Mmmm McDonald's

  Mumbai, India
Thursday, March 1, 2007

Heida left this morning-- she roused me from my sleep to say goodbye. It got me to thinking how strange this life is, with people coming and going so quickly. We form instant attachments, and then instant distant disassociations. I didn't shed any tears (as I am apt to do) and thought without much feeling that I will very likely never see her again.
Farzan and Sara will leave in a week or two, and then Kitti will leave a week after that. We all go our seperate ways, and I shall be by myself in India. That thought, which would have struck fear in my heart a week ago, makes me to merely shrug today. These situations-- being forced to survive out of one's comfort zone-- seem to desensitize one rather quickly. Similarily, I had thought that India would have made me a kinder, gentler Tigger (being confronted with suffering and poverty), but instead, seeing it more seems to make it less emotionally wrenching. All of the beggers here seem to be part of some racket involving the Indian mob. I don't know the logistics of it all, but the Indians here tell me I shouldn't support them.
Yesterday, Heida invited me to have a farewell lunch with her at the Marriott Hotel.

View through window of JW Marriott

It is a five-star hotel situated about 30 minutes from here. It's absolutely beautiful, with an infinity (swimming) pool that seems to merge into the ocean. The lunch was fabulous-- a buffet, with an endless selection of delicacies to choose from. Heida and I ate like kings, and when the bill came, it cost about $17. That may sound like a lot to some, but when you've lived in NY, that's only about $5 more than I'd usually pay for some cheap, deli-style lunch. If any of you are up for a visit, I'll definitely take you there.

Chillin' with Ronald

At the other end of the spectrum is what I eat most days: McDonald's and Pizza Hut. It is remarkably cheap here, with a full meal from McD's costing $2.00. That's for a chicken sandwich (no hamburgers here, bub!), fries, and a coke (you're charged, oh, about 25 cents more for diet soda). For someone living in India, I find that I don't eat much Indian food. I think I eat somewhat like a person living the dorms (ramen noodles, apples, crackers with cheese), and then fast-food.

In India, McDonald's delivers!

Lately, I have been trying to eat some Indian food, but my overall experience is that it is so hot with spice that I wish I had sandpaper or something that I could rub vigourously against my tongue to stop the pain shooting through it. The Indians look at me like I'm crazy, because they assure me that the food which they are giving me is not spice at all. They also are fond of telling me, "You'll get used to it." Please. I don't think so. Their heat is the sort of hot that makes my eyes bulge out my head, tears stream from my eyes, sweat starts poring out of my skin, my nose runs, and smokes come from my ears. And, taking into consideration the fact that "spicy" is a not a tastebud, but a sensitivity to pain, I think I'd rather keep my sensitivity than force my body to endure something that it is literally screaming in definance to.