Dec 14, 2012
8.18 AM, Room 205, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Stuffed and scraggly
Stuffed and Scraggly Soo. My games with alliteration will never cease to amuse me.
I just had a thorough tuck-in at breakfast. I skipped dinner yesterday and lunch will most probably run late. Two full meals a day is quite enough while traveling anyhoo.
I slept off early last night. It gets really drafty after dark. Finished my accounts and washed my icky mop, thus explaining the adjective 'scraggly'. I currently bear an odd resemblance to an oversized wet dog. Sat and sorted through case study reference notes, flipped through whatever I have to ask anyone and everyone there. I'm meeting Mr. Chowdhury at 11.00 and he'll delegate me to someone else to take me around. I just pray to all ye Gods up there that Whatshisname speaks a bit of English. My Hindi is broken and with my fantastic accent, it's only getting worse.
Scraggly Soo out.
***
Dec 14, 2012
8.28 PM, Room 205, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Tired and tingly feet
More alliteration. Hee. :D
Yes, yes, Uncrowned Queen of Cheap Thrills.
Moving on...
The loo is weird. The toilet talks like the one at home. It croak-groans. Croans. It sounds like Lurch on meth.
Weird...
I did a lot of walking today, explaining the feet. Mr. Chowdhury and his seneschal (sub-director to those who aren't fantasy geeks), Mr. Sathyanarayana, signed the copy of the bonafide from college and I got myself a signed letter in Bangla from the security head. I dunno what it said; it could very well have been an ode to the Tooth Fairy for all I knew, but it seemed to work whenever I used it. No guided tour or anything, I just had free reign to go wherever the hell I wanted. As for info, I had to ask around to whoever was there.
Basically, I was playing critique slash Scooby Doo, sometimes sneaking around the service areas and walking right through the 'No Entry' doors like I bloody well owned the place. The expressions of those watching me were amusing.
As for the info, I spent half the day stumbling over my cracked-and-badly-splintered-at-the-seams Hindi with every security guard I could find. Every bloke in blue. Seriously, they were everywhere.
"Nahin, main Bangla nahin jaanthi hoon," became a refrain.
Give a Southern girl a break, mates. She's trying here.
Anyhoo, I couldn't finish everything today. I have to do up the convention center area and the service yard tomorrow, hopefully by 11.00 AM. I have to call Mr. Lai at 11, a person whom Mr. Chowdhury put me in touch with to get me drawings of the whole Science City. Have to see him tomorrow as well. He gave me directions to the office: 'Park Street, fourth floor by Mother Theresa'.
Brill.
I was worn out to hell and back by the time I got back to the hotel. Made some calls, sent a mail, donned the hoodie and went for dinner.
Where?
The same place I had breakfast at.
Looks like Tacky Spangles Bar next door is exactly what it is: a bar. No wonder the blokes there stared when I told them that all I wanted was lunch.
Meh.
God, I'm sleepy.
It's not even 9.00.
Yeesh, it's cold.
But it's not that cold.
...
Another bit of proof that my brain has a mild case of schizophrenia.
Bah humbug.
I'm gonna snooze.
Nighty night.
8.18 AM, Room 205, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Stuffed and scraggly
Stuffed and Scraggly Soo. My games with alliteration will never cease to amuse me.
I just had a thorough tuck-in at breakfast. I skipped dinner yesterday and lunch will most probably run late. Two full meals a day is quite enough while traveling anyhoo.
I slept off early last night. It gets really drafty after dark. Finished my accounts and washed my icky mop, thus explaining the adjective 'scraggly'. I currently bear an odd resemblance to an oversized wet dog. Sat and sorted through case study reference notes, flipped through whatever I have to ask anyone and everyone there. I'm meeting Mr. Chowdhury at 11.00 and he'll delegate me to someone else to take me around. I just pray to all ye Gods up there that Whatshisname speaks a bit of English. My Hindi is broken and with my fantastic accent, it's only getting worse.
Scraggly Soo out.
***
Dec 14, 2012
8.28 PM, Room 205, Hotel Narayani Enclave, Kasba, Kolkata
Mood: Tired and tingly feet
More alliteration. Hee. :D
Yes, yes, Uncrowned Queen of Cheap Thrills.
Moving on...
The loo is weird. The toilet talks like the one at home. It croak-groans. Croans. It sounds like Lurch on meth.
Weird...
I did a lot of walking today, explaining the feet. Mr. Chowdhury and his seneschal (sub-director to those who aren't fantasy geeks), Mr. Sathyanarayana, signed the copy of the bonafide from college and I got myself a signed letter in Bangla from the security head. I dunno what it said; it could very well have been an ode to the Tooth Fairy for all I knew, but it seemed to work whenever I used it. No guided tour or anything, I just had free reign to go wherever the hell I wanted. As for info, I had to ask around to whoever was there.
Basically, I was playing critique slash Scooby Doo, sometimes sneaking around the service areas and walking right through the 'No Entry' doors like I bloody well owned the place. The expressions of those watching me were amusing.
As for the info, I spent half the day stumbling over my cracked-and-badly-splintered-at-the-seams Hindi with every security guard I could find. Every bloke in blue. Seriously, they were everywhere.
"Nahin, main Bangla nahin jaanthi hoon," became a refrain.
Give a Southern girl a break, mates. She's trying here.
Anyhoo, I couldn't finish everything today. I have to do up the convention center area and the service yard tomorrow, hopefully by 11.00 AM. I have to call Mr. Lai at 11, a person whom Mr. Chowdhury put me in touch with to get me drawings of the whole Science City. Have to see him tomorrow as well. He gave me directions to the office: 'Park Street, fourth floor by Mother Theresa'.
Brill.
I was worn out to hell and back by the time I got back to the hotel. Made some calls, sent a mail, donned the hoodie and went for dinner.
Where?
The same place I had breakfast at.
Looks like Tacky Spangles Bar next door is exactly what it is: a bar. No wonder the blokes there stared when I told them that all I wanted was lunch.
Meh.
God, I'm sleepy.
It's not even 9.00.
Yeesh, it's cold.
But it's not that cold.
...
Another bit of proof that my brain has a mild case of schizophrenia.
Bah humbug.
I'm gonna snooze.
Nighty night.
No comments:
Post a Comment