AYAYAYAY Moosey
Nov 29th - Dec 4th > Muthoot Plaza, Trivandrum
Farewell Residency thy rooms were dark and cool but alas the builders outside kept sleep at bay for too long. Off to the Muthoot which is about 1/2 mile away and is posher, but less friendly (strange sounds like people?). Quiet though, and my stay here was relaxed and restful. I have next week off as Ali is arriving on Saturday (yippee!) for a holiday.
15 minutes into her Indian experience and Ali is introduced to the first slice of fuzzy logic India style by none other than the cabbie. A number of hours earlier he had picked me up from the Muthoot hotel. At first i presumed he was taking us the 'scenic' route back, but it gradually dawned on me that the signposts were indicating an alarming increase in the km to Trivandrum.
I enquired on our destination - ''scuse me, where are we going?'. The blank look in response was as expected. 'W H E R E A R E W E G O I N G ?' I took extra care and time to mouth the words in the hope that my non-English speaking friend would get my point (and hopefully confirm that he new a special shortcut).
A light came on in his eyes 'Kovalam'. A light went off in my eyes 'Why are we going to Kovalam?'. 'Kovalam' he re-iterated and continued apace.
I looked at Ali, looked up skywards, stifled a scream, thought about biting down on my fist for effect 'W H Y A R E G O I N G T O K O V A L A M ?'.
I still have no idea why we were going to Kovalam. Suffice to say that the driver obviously felt that the extremely tired and jaded looking passenger we had just collected wanted to sit on the beach (maybe even board) with her big Yellow suitcase.
'T R I V A N D R U M!' I stated. Blank/Vacant/Incomprehension/Nothing. 'M U T H O O T - T R I V A N D R U M - S T O P!'. We stopped. 'Kovalam.........?' - 'N O.....T R I V A N D R U M'.
'Kovalam No.....Trivandrum?'. (I could have kissed him) 'Yes Trivandrum, The Muthoot - where you picked me up from hours ago'.
'Residency....?'. a pause - do i cry/combust/exit taxi (i was trying not to laugh) - 'Why would i want to go to the Residency? - T H E M U T H O O T, T R I V A N D R U M'. Instant u-turn in the middle of the road (obviously nothing managed to not miss us).
15 minutes later and we are going past the turning to the Airport. The km to Trivandrum going down. The twist in this tale......He took us to The Residency.
After persuading the driver for the umpteenth time that i did indeed want to go back to the place from whence our little adventure had started i obviously managed to convince him that despite my devious nature, no-one had in fact checked me out of The Muthoot and (just for fun) checked me into The Residency whilst we were journeying.
About an hour into The Muthoot experience, Ali experiences her second India.....Why? moment. After dropping us off, i asked the driver to wait as we would be going to the guesthouse in Jawahar Nagar (N. Trivandrum). He had bobbed his head (which means Yes/No/Fuckknows *delete as applicable).
So we dropped Ali's bag off-breakfasted-Met Jam in lobby. Outside, the Maharaja like doorman with the BIG handlebar moustache was asked to advise the driver that we were waiting for him (they always drop off and park round the back).
Another blank look 'babble babble' his lip-bush barked. I looked at Ali/at Jam. We looked at each other ('is that thing alive'?) - i only thought that....I think. He pointed at the front desk.
We went to the front desk. 'Car for room 409?' i gleefully suggested. The happiest receptionist in glumville jabbed her thumb back in the direction of the Concierge (actually the conthierge-his lisp, not mine)-(who stands the other side of the door to Colonel Clump).
'Conth....Concierge bloke, car for room 409 - if ya please'. Shuffling of feet/hands and the not unexpected response - 'Doorman!'.
Back with the Door man, and he is suddenly alert and attentive to our enquiry.'Car for room 409' i squeek.
He looks at the 2 security guards (to make sure he had their attention....?), stands to his full height-chest out and presses the hotel garage intercom (ahhh - we are getting somewhere i begin to think for the minutest of nano seconds)
'ROOM FOUR EIGHT NINE' BOOOOMs the bush.'FOUR.EIGHT.NINE' again (Im sure Trivandrum actually paused for just a second) ......silence......nothing.'err, 'scuse me but i think i said 409....?'I offer.
Bristle/twitch/windsor davies/Intercom - 'F O U R E I G H T N I N E' (lovelyboylovelyboy) explodes into the air (birds took flight!).
'hmmm, errr, sorry to be a pain - my room is Four (with fingers aloft) Zero (with fist aloft) Nine (both hands-Nine fingers).
In the between thunderclap interlude, the doormans eyes shifted to his 2 cohorts/guards. He eyed me suspiciously, filled my vision as his 'tache and belly seemed to grow before my very eyes.
He thumbed the com - 'F O U R . Z E R O . E I G H T . N I N E !'
I Blubbed
'F O U R . Z E R O . E I G H T . N I N E !'
Tears streamed down my face
'F O U R . Z E R O . E I G H T . N I N E !'
(he must know there is no 4089....right)
Silence....calm.....giggle in throat.....pause
The doorman glowered at our little posse/his facial bush photosynthesising. The guards looked at us. The conthierge (who had since joined there little gang) viewed us with suspicion. We were ushered back into the lobby and outside the 4 had a group huddle and committee decisioned that they should all goto the garage to look for our vehicle.
Just as the conthierge was disappearing i offered 'Maybe the car didnt wait? - why dont you just order us another cab?' - (His look confirmed the ridiculous nature of my suggestion (I mean, why on earth would a cab for a room that doesnt exist not be there?) Too long already story short - Much searching/ tannoying/excusing/pacing/gnashing of teeth and some laughter later (about 30 minutes)) - That's exactly what he did.
Xmas Party Dec 3rd
The Indian office threw an Xmas bash tonight - the setting a remote beachfront near the Taj hotel, north of the hustle and bustle of lighthouse beach. Pretty much everyone from the office was there, and it was really nice to see so many people having fun and dancing (and drinking!) - good time had by all. Ali arrived and met pretty much everyone. There was no singularly funny moment, the whole night was a blast! - watching Indian guys getting pissed on a bottle of beer as they dont drink a highlight - took a few snaps............
Farewell Residency thy rooms were dark and cool but alas the builders outside kept sleep at bay for too long. Off to the Muthoot which is about 1/2 mile away and is posher, but less friendly (strange sounds like people?). Quiet though, and my stay here was relaxed and restful. I have next week off as Ali is arriving on Saturday (yippee!) for a holiday.
15 minutes into her Indian experience and Ali is introduced to the first slice of fuzzy logic India style by none other than the cabbie. A number of hours earlier he had picked me up from the Muthoot hotel. At first i presumed he was taking us the 'scenic' route back, but it gradually dawned on me that the signposts were indicating an alarming increase in the km to Trivandrum.
I enquired on our destination - ''scuse me, where are we going?'. The blank look in response was as expected. 'W H E R E A R E W E G O I N G ?' I took extra care and time to mouth the words in the hope that my non-English speaking friend would get my point (and hopefully confirm that he new a special shortcut).
A light came on in his eyes 'Kovalam'. A light went off in my eyes 'Why are we going to Kovalam?'. 'Kovalam' he re-iterated and continued apace.
I looked at Ali, looked up skywards, stifled a scream, thought about biting down on my fist for effect 'W H Y A R E G O I N G T O K O V A L A M ?'.
I still have no idea why we were going to Kovalam. Suffice to say that the driver obviously felt that the extremely tired and jaded looking passenger we had just collected wanted to sit on the beach (maybe even board) with her big Yellow suitcase.
'T R I V A N D R U M!' I stated. Blank/Vacant/Incomprehension/Nothing. 'M U T H O O T - T R I V A N D R U M - S T O P!'. We stopped. 'Kovalam.........?' - 'N O.....T R I V A N D R U M'.
'Kovalam No.....Trivandrum?'. (I could have kissed him) 'Yes Trivandrum, The Muthoot - where you picked me up from hours ago'.
'Residency....?'. a pause - do i cry/combust/exit taxi (i was trying not to laugh) - 'Why would i want to go to the Residency? - T H E M U T H O O T, T R I V A N D R U M'. Instant u-turn in the middle of the road (obviously nothing managed to not miss us).
15 minutes later and we are going past the turning to the Airport. The km to Trivandrum going down. The twist in this tale......He took us to The Residency.
After persuading the driver for the umpteenth time that i did indeed want to go back to the place from whence our little adventure had started i obviously managed to convince him that despite my devious nature, no-one had in fact checked me out of The Muthoot and (just for fun) checked me into The Residency whilst we were journeying.
About an hour into The Muthoot experience, Ali experiences her second India.....Why? moment. After dropping us off, i asked the driver to wait as we would be going to the guesthouse in Jawahar Nagar (N. Trivandrum). He had bobbed his head (which means Yes/No/Fuckknows *delete as applicable).
So we dropped Ali's bag off-breakfasted-Met Jam in lobby. Outside, the Maharaja like doorman with the BIG handlebar moustache was asked to advise the driver that we were waiting for him (they always drop off and park round the back).
Another blank look 'babble babble' his lip-bush barked. I looked at Ali/at Jam. We looked at each other ('is that thing alive'?) - i only thought that....I think. He pointed at the front desk.
We went to the front desk. 'Car for room 409?' i gleefully suggested. The happiest receptionist in glumville jabbed her thumb back in the direction of the Concierge (actually the conthierge-his lisp, not mine)-(who stands the other side of the door to Colonel Clump).
'Conth....Concierge bloke, car for room 409 - if ya please'. Shuffling of feet/hands and the not unexpected response - 'Doorman!'.
Back with the Door man, and he is suddenly alert and attentive to our enquiry.'Car for room 409' i squeek.
He looks at the 2 security guards (to make sure he had their attention....?), stands to his full height-chest out and presses the hotel garage intercom (ahhh - we are getting somewhere i begin to think for the minutest of nano seconds)
'ROOM FOUR EIGHT NINE' BOOOOMs the bush.'FOUR.EIGHT.NINE' again (Im sure Trivandrum actually paused for just a second) ......silence......nothing.'err, 'scuse me but i think i said 409....?'I offer.
Bristle/twitch/windsor davies/Intercom - 'F O U R E I G H T N I N E' (lovelyboylovelyboy) explodes into the air (birds took flight!).
'hmmm, errr, sorry to be a pain - my room is Four (with fingers aloft) Zero (with fist aloft) Nine (both hands-Nine fingers).
In the between thunderclap interlude, the doormans eyes shifted to his 2 cohorts/guards. He eyed me suspiciously, filled my vision as his 'tache and belly seemed to grow before my very eyes.
He thumbed the com - 'F O U R . Z E R O . E I G H T . N I N E !'
I Blubbed
'F O U R . Z E R O . E I G H T . N I N E !'
Tears streamed down my face
'F O U R . Z E R O . E I G H T . N I N E !'
(he must know there is no 4089....right)
Silence....calm.....giggle in throat.....pause
The doorman glowered at our little posse/his facial bush photosynthesising. The guards looked at us. The conthierge (who had since joined there little gang) viewed us with suspicion. We were ushered back into the lobby and outside the 4 had a group huddle and committee decisioned that they should all goto the garage to look for our vehicle.
Just as the conthierge was disappearing i offered 'Maybe the car didnt wait? - why dont you just order us another cab?' - (His look confirmed the ridiculous nature of my suggestion (I mean, why on earth would a cab for a room that doesnt exist not be there?) Too long already story short - Much searching/ tannoying/excusing/pacing/gnashing of teeth and some laughter later (about 30 minutes)) - That's exactly what he did.
Xmas Party Dec 3rd
The Indian office threw an Xmas bash tonight - the setting a remote beachfront near the Taj hotel, north of the hustle and bustle of lighthouse beach. Pretty much everyone from the office was there, and it was really nice to see so many people having fun and dancing (and drinking!) - good time had by all. Ali arrived and met pretty much everyone. There was no singularly funny moment, the whole night was a blast! - watching Indian guys getting pissed on a bottle of beer as they dont drink a highlight - took a few snaps............
Renjith - 'The cat'
Jam (h'aight!) & Sameer (sam ear.......smear?)
The very lovely Shabarinath - 'SHABA!'
Sathiajith - 'Sathia'
Anupama ('pama') & Manu the worlds most brilliantly named Utd fan!
Arun
a mythical unicorn
Suraj; Donatus + Ranjaith
'Black adder' Praveen; Saiju; Biju; Prasanna; Sameer; Praveen (#2); Renjith; Mohammed and just to show my memorys as it has always been some guy at the front. (i think his name is Vipin.....oops!)
'city of the snake'
Trivandrum or 'Thiruvananthapuram' was the capital of the kingdom of Travancore from 1750 until 1856 when the state of Kerala was created (yippee!) It's name (now Trivandrum) derives from Thiru-anantha-puram, or the holy city of Anantha (who is only the coiled snake that Vishnu-god reclines on in the midst of the cosmic ocean.....man!)
Apparently sitting around cosmically has a special name - Padma-nabha (known to us mere mortals as Lotus navel!!) which is depicted as the Vish-man lying top anantha snake with a lotus growing from his navel. The lotus is a seat for the god Brahma (who (my guess) is a bull.....?) to recline upon, and all this represents the beginning of a new era. If only all religions were this simple....we'd all be flocking to our nearest church/temple/shrine to learn more.
posted by nidpor at 1:18 PM
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