Not So Proud Of My Reaction
Wednesday, November 30th, 2005I went downstairs to buy some bananas in the afternoon. The fruit stand next door ran out of bananas so I went across the street to get it from a woman with a wooden-cart full of bananas. She doesn’t speak English nor I Marathi so after a bit of pointing and gesturing, she figured out what I want. As she was cutting up a bunch of bananas with a paring knife, she accidentally made a litte cut on her finger. It was a very small cut but her blood smeared onto the bananas and the plastic bag. I paid for my purchase.
As I walked back to the office, I couldn’t help but stare at the little dot of red on the bag. All that I could think of was risk of sickness transmitted through blood. I grew more paranoid with every step I took and kept on checking if I have any open wounds on my own hands. I just couldn’t stand this paranoia anymore so I put the entire bag into a garbage can before I got to the office.
While I scrubbed my hands with soap and water. I couldn’t help but to feel ashame of my own paranoia. I know that I did a sensible thing but at the same time, it could easily just be an over-reaction.
Would I react differently if this happen in a differnt country to a different person with a different skin colour? I think not but would I experience the same degree of paranoia? What would you do in my place?
I didn’t know what took over me today but I checked out the little carts selling street food after work today. It was only eight o’clock and I didn’t have any presentation scheduled for tomorrow until 15:30. I decided that today’s a good day to give the street food a try. I’ve been gravely warned that I risk getting stomache upset if I eat street food but I figure even if I get sick, I have two weeks to get well before going to Paris anyway.
I bought a little grilled sandwich filled with vegetable spreads, peanuts, crunchy noodles. It was hot (temperature-wise) and mildly spicy. It tasted good. I figured bread and no dairy and no meat ought to be relatively safe. Hmm, it’s been well over five hours since I ate and I’m still feeling well.
At Pasteurs, the shop was crowed with families and couples enjoying ice-cream cones and snacks. Where there’s a local crowd, there must be (reasonably) good food. From their extensive menu, I ordered a pista falooda. I knew that pista is pistachio and falooda is a type of drink. Unfortunately, they ran out of pista so I changed my order to rose falooda instead. The falooda was a milky concoction of rose syrup, some yellowish vermicelli-like stuff, and a swirl of soft-serve ice-cream for a grand total of Rs25. It tasted just like it looked…sugary.
Next stop was Karachi Sweet Mart for some mithai (i.e. sweets, check out my ever-expanding vocabulary). Their shop was totally devoid of labels so I kept on firing questions at the store clerk and he held his own by reciting off name after name of merchandise. The selection was noticeably smaller than Poonam Sweets at Pune Central so I only bought a small box of mango barfi and sonpapri, both of which I tried before and liked. But hey, being so conservative is not my style so I also bought a few savory snacks too. From their selection of deep-fried crunchy stuff, I got a mini samosa (the filling’s dry), a mini pinwheel, a cluster of fried leaves, and a round disc of flaky pastry. I was a little tired of questioning the store clerk so I used the good ol’ finger-pointing. They were all very delicious but sorry, I have no clue what I ate.
In between all these eating, I actually walked up and down M.G. Road a couple of times. Like I said, it was siesta time so not many stores were open. However, the walk was quite enjoyable. The scenery on M.G. Road is a testament of how the old and the new mesh together in India. 
In between the old houses and storefronts, there would be an occasional modern building in all its reflective glass glory. Among the cars and autorickshaws and motorcycles, there would be the odd cows roaming freely on the street or people riding on camels. Just around the corner from the gleaming Nike and Addidas boutiques, I could shop and haggle at the narrow lanes of Fashion Street (don’t go if you’re claustrophobic). Everything looked so haphazard yet they strangely fit together.
Of course I wasn’t done with eating just yet. I was walking on Moledina Road when I spotted Coffee House. One look at the decor and it immediately reminded me of the "tea restaurants" of Hong Kong built around the mid-60s. Perhaps it was the British colonial influence? Doesn’t really matter to me because it was busy with locals so I had to try. From the extensive menu, I ordered the Coffee House Falooda (Rs 75). I think I was infatuated with faloodas today. At three times the price of the one I had earlier, I found out soon enough why. That was one fancy drink! There were red gelee, some vermicelli-stuff, some tapioca-like stuff, cubes of apple, pineapple, papaya, dried fruits, nuts, ice-cream, and wafers. Wow!
