Here at CMC the international students form a sort of family. We are all away from our homes and our families, so we become our own home and family. This means that saying goodbye to people when they leave CMC is very emotional, and we send people off with a celebration.
Last night we had a farewell dinner for a German student who was leaving today. Fourteen of us met at the international hostel (where most students stay, Dave and I excluded since we are married) and headed to the outskirts of town to a restaurant called hundreds heritage. This required all 14 of us piling onto the city bus which stops at the gate right outside of the college campus.
I have decided that the city bus is one of my favorite Indian experiences. Very few of the buses actually belong to the city; most buses are independently owned and are hired by the city to run the public routes. This means that the bus driver gets to decorate/pimp his bus however he wants. Yes, we have seen simple looking buses, but most are dressed to the nines, some with airbrushed scenes from movies on the side (I have seen several Micky mouse buses), and some with colored flashing strobe LED lights outlining the front. No matter how the outside looks, on the inside there is inevitably a makeshift shrine to at least 4 Hindu gods- again, outlined in flashing strobe LED lights- behind the driver, and sometimes shrine-type-pictures of fathers, grandfathers, and other relatives below that. Some of these buses also have pretty great sound systems, and blast the latest Bollywood/kollywood hits during the ride. We have deemed these buses the "party buses" and have several times drawn a crowd by our dancing to the music while standing in the aisles so that the aunties and uncles can sit. Though, as we have learned, drawing a crowd is not hard when you are a caucasian, whether you want the attention or not. as another side detail, no buses have doors and very few have windows, so boarding and deboarding is sort of a hop on/hop off experience. Literally. The bus rarely comes to a full stop.
In terms of decoration and music, last night's bus was one of the latter, and we grooved to some beats on the long ride to the restaurant. Even though some of the other students knew where the restaurant was, it is tough to get the driver to stop where you want them to, especially in the dark where you don't always know where you are. So all of a sudden we were being shooed off of the bus onto a 4 lane, bi-directional road where we were told to "cross and then follow the ATMs". Ok? Crossing required dodging buses, cars, rickshaws and motorcycles, all while they honked to let us know they were there. As if we didn't know! We all managed to make it across in one piece, but not with a lot of shrieking and yelling "we are going to die, we are going to die." following the line of ATMs around the corner led us to a dark, semi-deserted street. Though we were nervous, the locals told us to keep following the road, which did eventually lead to the restaurant.
The restaurant is one of the nicest in Vellore, serving both an Indian menu as well as a continental menu, all in the comfort of exquisitely selected decor and AIR CONDITIONING! However when we got there the manager said that seating us would be "not possible" (a favorite phrase of the locals) since a party of 65 had just been seated, but reluctantly agreed to let two men in our party assess the space we had. While everyone else waited with the doorman, a lad dressed in a Michael-Jackson-meets-Prince-meets-Rainbow-Bright uniform, Dave and one of the other guys found a small nook with two tables that they convinced the manager to let us take. So we squeezed 14 people in a space for 8, and the meal began!
The menu was quite extensive, but the English was not as thought out as the decor or the doorman's uniform. Some of our favorite dish descriptions were for the spicy sesame cauliflower, "a spicy herbaceous plant from the genus sesamum, and cauliflower"; the brownie sizzler, "a sizzling brownie"; and the hamburger, "a classic hamburger". We also enjoyed their listing for "spaghetti meet ball [sic]", which apparently have not previously been acquainted. Once we stuffed ourselves silly, Dave with spaghetti meet ball and I with paneer tikka, we were given the desert menu. I really wanted the peach cobbler, but they did not have it. So I said that I was fine and didn't need any dessert, which prompted the waiter to ask me if I wanted all of the other items on the menu, individually. It was too funny, so we stopped trying to stop him. Everyone got a kick out of it.
The night ended with a group picture taken by the doorman, as well as lots of pictures from throughout the evening.
If I loved only one thing about this trip, it would be meeting so many other wonderful people from so many other places in the world.
I have decided that the city bus is one of my favorite Indian experiences. Very few of the buses actually belong to the city; most buses are independently owned and are hired by the city to run the public routes. This means that the bus driver gets to decorate/pimp his bus however he wants. Yes, we have seen simple looking buses, but most are dressed to the nines, some with airbrushed scenes from movies on the side (I have seen several Micky mouse buses), and some with colored flashing strobe LED lights outlining the front. No matter how the outside looks, on the inside there is inevitably a makeshift shrine to at least 4 Hindu gods- again, outlined in flashing strobe LED lights- behind the driver, and sometimes shrine-type-pictures of fathers, grandfathers, and other relatives below that. Some of these buses also have pretty great sound systems, and blast the latest Bollywood/kollywood hits during the ride. We have deemed these buses the "party buses" and have several times drawn a crowd by our dancing to the music while standing in the aisles so that the aunties and uncles can sit. Though, as we have learned, drawing a crowd is not hard when you are a caucasian, whether you want the attention or not. as another side detail, no buses have doors and very few have windows, so boarding and deboarding is sort of a hop on/hop off experience. Literally. The bus rarely comes to a full stop.In terms of decoration and music, last night's bus was one of the latter, and we grooved to some beats on the long ride to the restaurant. Even though some of the other students knew where the restaurant was, it is tough to get the driver to stop where you want them to, especially in the dark where you don't always know where you are. So all of a sudden we were being shooed off of the bus onto a 4 lane, bi-directional road where we were told to "cross and then follow the ATMs". Ok? Crossing required dodging buses, cars, rickshaws and motorcycles, all while they honked to let us know they were there. As if we didn't know! We all managed to make it across in one piece, but not with a lot of shrieking and yelling "we are going to die, we are going to die." following the line of ATMs around the corner led us to a dark, semi-deserted street. Though we were nervous, the locals told us to keep following the road, which did eventually lead to the restaurant.
The restaurant is one of the nicest in Vellore, serving both an Indian menu as well as a continental menu, all in the comfort of exquisitely selected decor and AIR CONDITIONING! However when we got there the manager said that seating us would be "not possible" (a favorite phrase of the locals) since a party of 65 had just been seated, but reluctantly agreed to let two men in our party assess the space we had. While everyone else waited with the doorman, a lad dressed in a Michael-Jackson-meets-Prince-meets-Rainbow-Bright uniform, Dave and one of the other guys found a small nook with two tables that they convinced the manager to let us take. So we squeezed 14 people in a space for 8, and the meal began!
The menu was quite extensive, but the English was not as thought out as the decor or the doorman's uniform. Some of our favorite dish descriptions were for the spicy sesame cauliflower, "a spicy herbaceous plant from the genus sesamum, and cauliflower"; the brownie sizzler, "a sizzling brownie"; and the hamburger, "a classic hamburger". We also enjoyed their listing for "spaghetti meet ball [sic]", which apparently have not previously been acquainted. Once we stuffed ourselves silly, Dave with spaghetti meet ball and I with paneer tikka, we were given the desert menu. I really wanted the peach cobbler, but they did not have it. So I said that I was fine and didn't need any dessert, which prompted the waiter to ask me if I wanted all of the other items on the menu, individually. It was too funny, so we stopped trying to stop him. Everyone got a kick out of it.
The night ended with a group picture taken by the doorman, as well as lots of pictures from throughout the evening.
If I loved only one thing about this trip, it would be meeting so many other wonderful people from so many other places in the world.
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