I just read these words in Andres Neuman's book: "An American tourist next to me vociferously demands his lost luggage."

that line makes me smile. and simultaneously, both together, makes me empathise with the rest of the world that makes such observations about Americans, and empathise with the American who is the victim here of the incompetency of the rest of the world. funny, human perspectives, and the judgments that arise from it.

yes, I can see why life in America gives us a sense of entitlement. on the other hand, like in this example, it's usually an entitlement expressed for something intrinsically owned being snatched away... and vociferousness? a protest against the snatching.

haha.

I remember myself being similarly vociferously indignant once, at Barajas airport, when each item in my suitcase was pulled out, and left out, thanking me for my patience (and for my re-packing skills), while I was already v late for my connection, after having missed a flight cos the gate officials messed up some communication and barred me from boarding.

ahhh lost in cultural translations of efficiency and etiquette

so far I've lived in a dozen cities/towns, in a lil less than 3 times that many yrs in life, some for merely months; not counting the different locations, apartments and houses within them. the longest continuous stretch being some 7 yrs. some of those places I forget that I ever was in, some feel like vacations, and probably were cos I was visiting my parents on n off while they actually lived there. but there's this one place, I keep squinting at on google maps nowadays, wondering why it feels so alien when it was home to me for a year. bangalore.

so of course, I didn't look at google maps when I lived there, or if I did, I have no recollection of it. I lived in two neighborhoods, a month in benarghatta, and the remaining 11 in koramangala. and I depended solely on local autowallahs (or pillion on the bike of my broker in search of an apartment) for my sense of direction and for my means of navigation. while I was there, it felt like I commuted far and wide, it felt like I knew the place, it felt like I was getting out and about. and now, staring at its map, I lack even a basic sense of east and west. I can't even locate my erstwhile neighborhood on the map, forget my apartment, I have no idea what the distance to work was (only that it took half an hour in an auto), I don't remember street names (I barely remember the names of 3-4 neighborhoods), and to make things worse, the city seems to have changed so much in the last 10 yrs. almost like it underwent puberty, and has a cracked voice, and unrecognizable hairs and curves.

and yet I clearly remember days. in places. the outsides of those places elude my memory. I remember Koshy's and in fact the crowded MG road and Brigade road, our fav restaurant Spiga (that always felt like a house party) and our always getting lost trying to get to it (that was one address the autowallahs never got), loads of other eating holes - chinese, mallu, andhra, even littis, bong, barbecue, ... (blore, even then was eclectic in its food scene). I remember clearly the interior decors of these places, the atmosphere in each, the sense of high I'd get on andhra chilies in one much frequented place, but no idea which side the sun rose from in each, no idea how far and where (except the much frequented andhra place Maharaja, which was just steps away from our apartment, and of course, my daily run route). even the place I most frequented, Forum mall, I can only picture its entrance and the street corner right outside and a lil bit to the left and right, and then suddenly it zones out into blackness. no idea how many and which turns led the auto there. even the old airport which was like a local bus stop then, apparently down a straight airport road after a while on the ring road, but where? why can't I trace my tires back? not even when I spent so much time at the airport, not just flying in and out of the city, but seeing bf off (don't remember receiving his arrival ever though) every time with my fav american cheesecake in my hands (forgotten the place that used to make it, aaaarrrgh) and two lil plastic spoons, the two of us sharing it while we waited to say goodbye. for many yrs after blore, in fact, I couldn't bare to look at cheesecake, let alone eat it, I always felt so overstuffed with it.

some weeks ago I drove about 470 miles in a day. that is about 750 kms. it was tiring. but also exhilarating. I started out early morning driving west against the sun on a beautifully cloudy and windy day. that's the best way to do a long drive. drive against the sun and back again, against it, by the way. its amazing that despite so many yrs in this region, I hadn't traveled west in texas. it was beautiful. forgotten and lonely and green. and of course flat. but also undulating. with eyes revealing the land for miles on either end. and this city ends very soon to the west and then its like nature lies untouched around the smooth paved steel grey road, curving with the yellow and white stripes on it, cutting into un-trampled wildness.

I was scared and excited and sweating like I do when I'm a combination of those two. it was just me and my faithful car. with the radio playing. and that stopped catching signal very soon (I did realize that I could still catch npr at a different wavelength). I didn't stop too much cos I was trying to avoid a sleep-over somewhere, cos despite a grown up job I'm still always short of money. and when I did stop, ppl stared at me almost as if I was an alien. a brown girl in and orange flowery skirt and a pink tank top, amidst truckers, mostly older white Texans, and some Mexican/Texans. I felt foreign. I felt like an explorer.

but at one of these stops a car stopped behind me, just as I was getting back into mine after clicking left and right randomly, my windows phone camera doing no justice to the panoramic views around me. a youngish hispanic looking guy was driving and talking on his phone, and then he hung up and got out while I could see him in my side mirror. he gestured to me to show that he was coming to me, I froze for a minute, trained by years of cat calling and sexually threatening strangers, and gestured back that I was driving off. thankfully he turned back to his car and I did not see him follow me after that. he probably thought I had car trouble, and maybe stopped to help..? or maybe the alternative, who knows..

I stopped to pee and grab a donut at a strange Chinese place just off the road at one point. the lady had a small praying display with donuts displayed in front of it, and I didn't stare at it too much fearing I'd cross the polite-line, but a customer before me commented on her deity being El Trump. I was amused more than horrified, but even more at the similarity of that display to what back home would be called a 'puja-ghar' with lil lumps of fried dough instead of the yellow laddoos one would see back home. like I've said before a million times... ppl are the same everywhere...

oh ya I did reach my destination unhurt and un-lost. and I did see the breathtaking water lilies that were the reason for the trip. but they aren't the point of this post. cos, although that was beautiful, it was the journey that jolted me into wondering why I don't do this more often. with more years tucked under my belt, I'm becoming more and more a misanthrope, and I realized how much I like being on the road by myself with the radio in my car.

I had another whimsical stop at a self-proclaimed 'red-neck' barbecue place for a late-lunch on my way back. where I almost left my credit card, I was so overwhelmed with the tender brisket and so intimidated by appearing so different from everyone else around.

there was one really sad bit to the whole day, one that I slowly got used to too (even more saddening, my getting inured). there must have been at least 30-40 small dead animals on the road in those 470 miles, squirrels, possums, armadillos, ... god knows what else, one freshly hit with its tail furiously wriggling while its body was pasted to the road by its blood and innards. it was mostly an empty road, except when it passed through some small town, and cars drove at 80-90 miles an hour (yes, me too, although I swear I didn't hit anything), way past the speed limits; and its sad to see that human life has such a casual destructive impact on the world around us.