Imagine, if you will, your toilet is clogged up with the usual toilet debris. You need to unclog it so you go to your local Walmart or hardware type store and purchase a plunger to remove the obstruction. A few quick pumps and presto everything heads "down the drain."
That is the US way.
So we had a clogged drain in the toilet. I go to my local Walmart store (known here as an Easy Day) and we don't sell plungers. I ask the store people and they are confused. Apparently in India they don't call it a plunger. So, I go to two other stores and nothing. I am getting frustrated. I tell Lance to ask his fellow expats at work where to find a plunger. They say "have your driver find one!" Now that is a new idea. Having someone else run errands for you. I am in LOVE with the idea already. I start thinking of all the time I will save. Anyways, I am getting ahead of myself. So I ask our driver, Sushil, to assist me in finding a plunger for the toilet. He doesn't understand so I provide a quick demonstration of what the problem is and and the needed implement. Needless to say the demonstration included me making the "stinky nose" face and pointing at the toilet and a making a strange sort of "up and down" pumping motion that in the US would have REALLY gotten me into trouble in the sexual harrassment department. He simply smiles kindly and says "Yes." The next day he takes me to the several local (Indian only) markets and tells me "Mam, please stay in the car" while he heads out to search for the needed implement. Apparently buying plungers in India is dangerous work indeed! (That was me using humor to make light of a real danager in being thought of as an wealthy, English woman in the local market who is safe to pickpocket.) So I watch while my driver makes the same funny, yet highly descriptive "up and down" motion while speaking in Hindi. Nothing. We head to two more locations only to come up empty handed.
The next day at 8 am my security guard rings the front door bell. I answer and he has two plungers in a plastic bag with a price tag on each for 50 rupees or $1 (for all you mathematicians that's $2 total). I am thrilled and hug the bag while standing in my pjs on the front porch. He is smiling ear to ear, happy to see me happy. I realize I look ridiculous and that my friends in the US would understand my excitement and my need to hug things! I thank him and pay him his 100 rupees.
The story doesn't end there because everything didn't go "down the drain." It came out the toilet the other way. UGH! So I tell Lance, "Call someone. Do something!!! I am freaking out here!!!"
The next day a plumber shows up to fix the problem. To make the story short he has to take the toilet off the fixture to remove the obstruction. He calls me in after an hours worth of work to show me a pile of toilet paper (and other stuff which shall not be mentioned here). I am mortified. I appologize. He stares at the paper with confusion on this face. We are both silent for a moment...and then he points at the hose to the geyser. You see they don't use toilet paper in India. They use a water sprayer. Paper is very expensive here (8 tiny rolls will cost you $14).
So, as the saying goes "When in ROME...."
never mind....I can't bring myself to use "the hose."
That is the US way.
So we had a clogged drain in the toilet. I go to my local Walmart store (known here as an Easy Day) and we don't sell plungers. I ask the store people and they are confused. Apparently in India they don't call it a plunger. So, I go to two other stores and nothing. I am getting frustrated. I tell Lance to ask his fellow expats at work where to find a plunger. They say "have your driver find one!" Now that is a new idea. Having someone else run errands for you. I am in LOVE with the idea already. I start thinking of all the time I will save. Anyways, I am getting ahead of myself. So I ask our driver, Sushil, to assist me in finding a plunger for the toilet. He doesn't understand so I provide a quick demonstration of what the problem is and and the needed implement. Needless to say the demonstration included me making the "stinky nose" face and pointing at the toilet and a making a strange sort of "up and down" pumping motion that in the US would have REALLY gotten me into trouble in the sexual harrassment department. He simply smiles kindly and says "Yes." The next day he takes me to the several local (Indian only) markets and tells me "Mam, please stay in the car" while he heads out to search for the needed implement. Apparently buying plungers in India is dangerous work indeed! (That was me using humor to make light of a real danager in being thought of as an wealthy, English woman in the local market who is safe to pickpocket.) So I watch while my driver makes the same funny, yet highly descriptive "up and down" motion while speaking in Hindi. Nothing. We head to two more locations only to come up empty handed.
The next day at 8 am my security guard rings the front door bell. I answer and he has two plungers in a plastic bag with a price tag on each for 50 rupees or $1 (for all you mathematicians that's $2 total). I am thrilled and hug the bag while standing in my pjs on the front porch. He is smiling ear to ear, happy to see me happy. I realize I look ridiculous and that my friends in the US would understand my excitement and my need to hug things! I thank him and pay him his 100 rupees.
The story doesn't end there because everything didn't go "down the drain." It came out the toilet the other way. UGH! So I tell Lance, "Call someone. Do something!!! I am freaking out here!!!"
The next day a plumber shows up to fix the problem. To make the story short he has to take the toilet off the fixture to remove the obstruction. He calls me in after an hours worth of work to show me a pile of toilet paper (and other stuff which shall not be mentioned here). I am mortified. I appologize. He stares at the paper with confusion on this face. We are both silent for a moment...and then he points at the hose to the geyser. You see they don't use toilet paper in India. They use a water sprayer. Paper is very expensive here (8 tiny rolls will cost you $14).
So, as the saying goes "When in ROME...."
never mind....I can't bring myself to use "the hose."
I'm sorry, I'm sure it really WAS distressing and mortifying, but this still has me chuckling. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd thinking of this movie moment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrwDFgEeFCE
Hehe. Much love. xx
One thing I have learned thus far while living as an expat....you have to learn to share and laugh about whatever silly thing happens to you. Someday these will be the stories we will share with everyone when we get back to the US.
ReplyDeleteSo do please keep laughing. :) I was! :)
I think that's true everywhere. Laughter is essential. :)
ReplyDelete