TRAVEL TALES : High school reunion in Toronto

GEORGE DEL Rosario and Lois Kimwell-Mijares organized a last-minute dinner gathering of high school batch mates in Toronto, and when I asked for it to be postponed due to tangled schedules, Lois didn’t seem to be too sure about reorganizing it. On hindsight, I don’t blame her: it’s not easy for those living outside central Toronto to travel downtown. While public transportation is accessible, it gets confusing if you’re not familiar with the city streets and the subway stops. If you do have a car, there are car-parking issues and confusing one-way street directions. Most of all, it’s always a challenge to organize last-minute gatherings of friends living all over a big city.

Up and down Toronto

FIRST, THERE'S that lake next to Toronto. Viewed from the 23rd floor of the Westin Harbour Castle Hotel where I checked in during my last week in Toronto, Lake Ontario looks like a sea, not a lake. It’s vast. It’s dotted with yachts and ferryboats. It’s blue. Lakes are supposed to be green, but this one’s blue. I’m told it’s not even the largest of Toronto’s bodies of water. Lakes in the Philippines suddenly look like ponds.

Well hello, Toronto!

I FINALLY landed on North America, by way of Toronto. Arriving on a sunny Friday afternoon, I immediately saw the familiar pleasantness and graciousness that endeared me to the Canadians whom I worked with in Israel many years ago. Even their sense of autumn fashion was mannered: with navys, grays, and blacks around me, I stood out like a sore thumb with my red sneakers and denim jacket.

Jet Airways bounces

JET AIRWAYS, India’s second largest airline, has always been consistent with its excellent quality of service in both domestic and international sectors. This is why I had to praise then scold the airline teams last week, when I flew from New Delhi to Toronto.

SIGHTED SITE : IGIA Terminal 3, New Delhi

TERMINAL 3 of Delhi’s Indira Gandhi International Airport (IGIA) comes across as “world-class”: soaring industrial look, superb check-in procedures, convenient directional signs (for an airport this big). And then the expansive pre-departure area opens up, revealing an endless spread of carpeting. I shiver. In horror.

August wanderlust

AMIDST THE terrifying scene wrought by a Filipino hostage taker and the electrifying win brought by a Filipina Miss Universe charmer, the passing month has marked special milestones for me. It was in August that I began living the itinerant life in three cities across Asia: Haifa ten years ago, Dubai five years ago, and Kolkata three years ago.

Freed

WHEN DEREK Sivers, founder of independent music store CD Baby, emailed me today about his new projects for independent musicians, he stated that he has sold CD Baby.  This surprised me, as I didn’t know that (1) he owned CD Baby, and (2) the company has been sold.  But more compellingly, he added a link to his Website that explains why he sold the company.

FOCAL POINT : The Voices of Bahá in India

Choir and venues in Mumbai and New Delhi
Image source: Paul Ancheta

ONE HUNDRED twenty Bahá’í singers from twenty-five countries flew into India this month and sang in chorus on stage. The result: an experience that dazzled with the expressive majesty of the divine word, the ethnic sophistication of Ravi Shankar’s melody, and the effervescent power of the choral voice.

Turning 45

FOR 45 years, I've been celebrating my birthday on 16 June with my eldest sister, Kathleen.  Mama had this story: I wasn't due that day, so my mother--very heavy with me, her seventh-- went to the market along with our nanny Felisa to buy groceries for Ate Kathleen's 8th birthday that day.  While shopping, Mama realized I was due, so she proceeded to the San Pablo City Hospital ALONE and instructed Felisa to call Papa in the office with news of my delivery. Six babies before me must have made it easier for Mama to bear me.  She brought me to this world after 2PM.  I must have been screaming when I came into the world, as "quiet" has never been used to describe me as a person, alas.

FOCAL POINT : Martha Argerich, “Rachmaninov : Piano Concerto No.3 in D minor, Op.30”

"CONSIDER HOW much marvelous notes . . . influence the spirits! A wonderful song giveth wings to the spirit and filleth the heart with exaltation . . ."

These words from the Bahá'í Sacred Writings describe Martha Argerich's 1982 performance of Rachmaninov's monumental Third Piano Concerto, now immortalized on YouTube. On the first movement captured on the video above, Ms. Argerich brings marvelously disparate notes together in ferocious harmony.  At first, she exchanges quiet melodies with conductor Riccardo Chailly, a man of emotion himself (watch his expressions during the first theme, from 02:43 onwards). Then, from out of the blue, she leaps and soars into what seem to be endless climactic stanzas, throwing fire and thunder all around her. It’s unfortunate that the video does not reveal much of Ms. Argerich’s hands as she chops the ivory keys through this rampage.

And then, just as suddenly, she dives back to a gentle shimmer, closing the movement. Gosh. What an act.

Turning diva

Snickers "Road Trip"TV commercial
Link reference: YouTube.com

SNICKERS® HAS unveiled a cute TV commercial that shows the prima-donna side of men. Starring real-life divas Aretha Franklin and Liza Minnelli, the commercial pokes fun at what makes a man turn womanly. Or a woman turn manly. Gender exclusivities are truly blurring lately in Hollywood!

The time has come

"WELL, THE time has come," declared Barbra Streisand after reading the name of Kathryn Bigelow as Best Director at the 82nd Academy Awards last Sunday evening.  Ms. Bigelow thus became the first woman to take that prize. History had been made.

Clash of the Titans

GOOGLE HAS announced a possibility of ending operations in China after yesterday’s disclosure of alleged China-borne cyber attacks on Gmail accounts.  Finally, a giant taking on another giant, each standing on its own moral grounds.  It will be an interesting watch ahead. I just hope the ranks of the unemployed won’t swell.

Since everything now seems to be manufactured in China, its 300 million Internet users shouldn’t despair: they can always end up using a “Made in China” copycat of Google!

Ni hao, Googao.

Human thunderstorm

PERPETUUM JAZZILE, a choral group from Slovenia, performs a rendition of . . . an African thunderstorm. It looks easy (and extraordinary!) on video, but having performed in a choir before, I can tell you that this takes a lot of difficult, endless practice to get the coordinated sounds right.

This is excellence in human achievement.  Next, I’d like to hear them do a Mediterranean volcanic eruption and a Mumbai traffic scene.  (Those two actually sound the same.)

Thanks, Norelyn, for sharing the video!

What goes around, comes around

RAHUL, a friend of mine, tells me that he has lost his phone in a public bus.

Somewhere else, a grocer finds a similar phone in his shop.  Finding it useless, he decides to sell it at a nearby second-hand store.

The shopkeeper turns out to be Rahul’s landlord.  He recognizes the phone and immediately contacts Rahul. 

Rahul rushes to the second-hand store with the original purchase receipt. By matching IMEI information on both the phone and the receipt, the ownership of the phone is proven.

Rahul then realizes that he has actually misplaced his phone in the grocery store, and not in the bus.  The grocer is just too pleased to see the phone reunite with my friend.

A true story in a place called Kolkata, the original center of the Indian film industry.

FOCAL POINT : Leyla & Ryan Haidarian, “Beyond King of the Mountain”

Beyond King of the Mountain from Doubletake TV on Vimeo.

DEMOCRACY, FOR all its adherence to the principles of equality and freedom, has repeatedly shown how it leads to such destructive forces as economic inefficiency, short-termism, and “tyranny of the majority".

But do we have a better choice than this form of government?  Can a genuine “by the people for the people” system truly exist in this world, one that is driven by gentleness and justice for everyone?

Filmmakers Leyla & Ryan Haidarian think so. In the new documentary Beyond King of the Mountain, they explore alternative assumptions to democratic rule, begging the question: Can we conceive of democracy that is win/win and non-adversarial?

Watch it at http://www.beyond.doubletake.tv/

And do tell me what you think.

Idiotic credits

HERE IN India, author Chetan Bhagat and the makers of the holiday blockbuster movie 3 Idiots are slugging it out noisily over Mr. Bhagat’s accusation that the film makers did not give him due credit for the story.  The movie is based on the Mr. Bhagat’s debut novel Five Point Someone, but he claims that the movie gives bigger credits to another person.  The film makers have denied this, even posting up a copy of the studio’s contract with Mr. Bhagat on their Web site to prove that they’ve done their fair end of the bargain.

Three bounties

TODAY, I look back at three reasons why the 2000s, for all their triumphs and turmoil, are the most spirited years of my life.

1. Lighting up the terraces

In 2000, I was invited to serve at the Audio-Visual Department of the Bahá’í World Centre, seated on the terraces of Mount Carmel in Israel. The ensuing four years at the headquarters of the Bahá’í Faith remain most spiritually and morally transforming ones. It was also during this time that I began to assimilate new technologies in media. Hello, LiveJournal. Hello, PaulAncheta.com.

2. Linking up the past

Early in 2005, batch mates from high school and college got together with unprecedented frequency. I hadn't seen most of my high school friends in 23 years, but the anxious moments quickly turned to lasting hours. Childhood and teenage familiarities, after all, never disappear. As Facebook would reaffirm years later, they buttress the links between past and future.

3. Lining up the windows

And by windows I mean show windows in India, where I've been trying to inspire (and get inspired by) others in visual merchandising since 2005. This is also the land of creative individuals whose first and lasting idea of "color" came to them as infants--from seeing the sarees that their mothers wore! For a visual merchandiser, it doesn't get any better than this.

As the 2010s roll in

AND SO the first 10 years of the new millennium have drawn to a close.  It's been a sensational ride, starting with the Y2K scare, treading on 9/11 and the threat of climate change, and ending with the financial meltdown.  The decade has shown the world changing in ways that we've never seen before, at least not by my generation. 

The day before Christmas

AS THE world celebrates this weekend, I remember the Words of Bahá'u'lláh, Founder of the Bahá'í Faith: “So powerful is the light of unity that it can illuminate the whole earth."

This is usually the sweetest time of the year to hope that those we love get the best of health and wealth for the new year, so let me wish all of you the happiest moments this holiday weekend . . .

. . . and may 2010 kick off a more fulfilling decade for you and your family . . .

. . . and may the bright lights of the season and the holy light of unity continue to shine on you throughout your good life!

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SIGHTED SITE : Monarch Hotel, Bengaluru

Situated along the very busy Brigade Road in downtown Bengaluru, Monarch Hotel is value for money for travelers who wish to stay in a central location. It is neither frilly nor modern, but it is clean and safe, tucked away above a commercial building, with friendly front-desk service. There are restaurants within the vicinity, and for travelers who are excited with bargain-hunting opportunities at Brigade Road, this hotel is very convenient.

Sighted sight: St. James Hotel, Bangkok

Located on quiet, leafy 18 Soi Sukhumvit 26, St. James Hotel provides the best value for money in an expensive vicinity. The lobby of the elegant 3-star hotel, which is part of the global Amari hospitality chain, gives a preview of how remarkable the rest of the hotel is designed. The swimming pool is big enough for several laps and accessible through an outdoor staircase, giving you a comfortable warm-up by the time you reach the pool! The room is clean and spacious enough for a couple. The fittings are modern, and I particularly like how the shoe rack is elevated from the floor for easy reach. I also like the tiny anti-theft signs inside the room that politely advise the guest that bathrobes and towels are available at cost. The front desk staff speaks fluent English, and the concierge is polite and attendant.

Outside the hotel is a food stall that serves fabulous noodles; if you prefer Japanese food, there are three places to choose from down the street; and if you really want a proper restaurant, a fabulous food court beckons from the glitzy Emporium mall within walking distance away. The Phrom Phong skytrain station sits just near the corner of 18 Soi and Sukhumvit Road to take you up up and away.

St. James Hotel
18 Sukhumvit 26 Klongton, Klongtoey, Bangkok 10110, Thailand
www.amari.in

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Barbra's record

YOU MAY have heard that Barbra Streisand made history this month with her latest album, Love Is the Answer. She topped the album charts in the US and the UK, shocking industry observers who predicted tough battle for #1 between new releases by the younger Mariah Carey and the much younger band Paramore. (To make things more relevant, Madonna's new album also showed up near the top of those charts.)

By topping the charts, Ms. Streisand—who remains the female singer with the most #1 albums—created records as the only female artist with #1 albums in each of the past five decades, and as the female artist with the longest span of #1 albums. This enhances the legend of Ms. Streisand, as I'm not sure if this feat can be repeated again by any other female singer in our generation.

Now comes the news that Love Is the Answer debuts this week on Billboard Top Jazz Albums at #2! I'm not sure if Ms. Streisand has ever shown up on jazz charts during her 47-year career, but this certainly becomes the legendary pop singer's highest jazz-charting album ever. She's not really known as a jazz artist (cabaret singer? lounge diva, perhaps?), but I do recall a Playboy magazine poll back in the late 70s, and her name showed up on "favorite jazz vocalist" list.

Love Is the Answer has become Barbra Streisand's best received album since 1985's award-winning The Broadway Album. Critics all agree on one thing: Love Is the Answer sparkles with the shimmering finesse of a glorious singing voice. I got my copy last week, on the eve of my overseas travel, and I agree with what the critics have assessed. I'll post up my further thoughts on the album when I return next week.

Congratulations, Ms. Streisand! Here's seeing you collect your next Grammy Award in February!

"Love Is the Answer" TV commercial
Link reference: YouTube.com

Pluto (2006-2009)

Image source: Paul Ancheta at Flickr

IT'S BEEN a month since Pluto's death. The day he left—1 October—ended a sad, tragic week in familiar places: the floods in my hometown Manila, the tsunami in Samoa (home of the Baha'i Temple of the Pacific), the earthquake in Sumatra. The circumstances weren't easy. They weren't welcome anytime.

Pluto died of complications from acute renal failure, which I learned to be a genetic disease common to most Persian cats. The illness was swift: he was diagnosed two weeks before his death, and he spent the last 15 days of his life hanging onto intravenous treatment. Other complications arose, including inability to pass urine, and in the end, he was simply too weak to carry on.

He lived a short life (3 years and 2 months), but the delightful moments with him were endless. He was the only living creature that literally shared my bed in India, watching me as I slept, him crouched on my pillow, and saw me wake up, him tugging at my hair, a childhood habit he never outgrew ever since that night I brought him home from Pune, a curious two-month-old bundle of energy. He was a silent witness to my life in India, having been there when I moved houses in Mumbai, relocated to Kolkata, hosted gatherings in my flats, and fought with service providers on the phone!

It's tough to connect the Pluto of those heart-wrenching dying hours with the Pluto that brightened my days and nights in India. The only thing that remained constant was the thick, golden, furry coat of silky, life-infused Persian cat hair.

This is the Pluto I'll always remember.

Related Sites: Pluto comes home | Pluto turns 1 | Pluto turns 2

Sad About Kolkata: How I survived BSNL

AFTER 32 days of hounding BSNL (Bharat Sanchar Nigam Ltd., supposedly India's top telecommunications company), I got my Internet broadband service back at home. What I went through has been the most ridiculous carousel of office referrals that I've ever encountered in the service industry in my entire life. It's not enough that I could all each of them only through a BSNL land line (I use Airtel and my office uses Tata). But the worst part is that none of these officers could give me the name of the person directly responsible for customer care--hence, the carousel!

The service was disrupted on 19 September, and I immediately contacted the Customer Care Desk. For a while I called this the "Customer Wear and Tear Desk" as the agents neither spoke English nor offered any satisfying resolution to my plight as a customer. In fact, at one point, a female agent simply hung the phone while I was speaking. She probably thought I was over-acting with my endless patter.

After two weeks, I learned why my service was cut: there had been an underground cable problem. And for this, I had to wait until after the Durga Puja holiday season (read: one week) for servicemen to attend to me. What they didn't tell me wast that after this celebration of the goddess Durga, there was another weekend holiday that involves another goddess, which meant I had to wait for yet another week.

The cable was finally restored this week, and I finally got back my Internet (and my sanity) on Tuesday evening.

In living all these years in Kolkata, I've found that such customer care ineptitude is common in most service providers based in this city. It took me two weeks to get the Godrej refrigerator team to inspect my appliance, and one month for my car to get delivered after payment was received. It's sad to see that the Bengalis, who I think have the most innovative minds in India, have service workers who cannot innovate processes that will deliver rewarding results in customer care.

Mad & sad about Kolkata

IN ANY relationship, it’s always easy to get so used to its familiarities that when novelty wears off, we forget about the good things that made that relationship work in the first place. I was thinking of this while traveling away from Kolkata this week. I’ve lived in West Bengal’s proud capital city long enough—exactly two years this month—to be accustomed to its nuances and nuisances, but half of the time I still moan and groan about everything that it is and isn’t.

For the record, Kolkata is NOT an easy place. It’s one of India’s four metropolitan centers (the others being Mumbai, New Delhi, and Chennai), but the city formerly known as Calcutta—famous, and infamous, for its ferocious independence of body and soul—seems to perpetually reject the advances towards modernity of those three other cities. It’s impossible to translate in the city the cosmopolitan attitudes seen in Mumbai, the urbane spirit in New Delhi, or the disciplined ways in Chennai. “They can all be the same, but they are them, and we are not them” seems to be the mantra of daily living for the Calcuttans.

However, traveling in Gurgaon, New Delhi, and Ahmedabad in the past four weeks and getting caught in relentless heat, reckless traffic, and ruthless pollution, I found myself actually missing Kolkata, where sun is fun and traffic is slick. The truth is, there are endless things that make me mad and sad about Kolkata. These are my tales of Kolkata, the stuff that fortify my bumpy relationships with the city.

You’ll begin to read about them on this blog.

SIGHTED SITE : IGIA Terminal 1, New Delhi

TO PARAPHRASE the old Broadway song: "Hello, Delhi! It's so nice to have your airport where it belongs: a league of its own!"

I love this newly renovated airport. Officially the Terminal 1 of the Indira Gandhi International Airport, its modernization took a painfully long time, but the long wait is worth it. (It reopened in February this year after two years of renovation work.) I remember having to endure musty odors of the human and damp-ceiling type (but mostly human), long queues with irate and irritating passengers, and no place to sit AND stand at the pre-departure area. The old airport often reminded me of domestic terminals in smaller towns in southern Philippines. The reality of it being the welcome mat to India's capital always puzzled me.

Hyderabad, Bengaluru, and Mumbai have also unveiled their revamped domestic terminals, but Delhi Airport tops them all. Here's why:

1. There is nothing fancy or pretentious about the architectural design. It looks modern yet feels ethnic (watch the huge square pillars at the pre-departure area). It's elegant. It's massive. With such a high ceiling, it tends to be loud, which all modern airports are. It's busy. All these adjectives point to one thing: it's pretty much like the Indian population.


2. The pre-departure area has lots of seating. I call them the "gossip seats". Grouped in diamond shapes, they are perfect for Indians and non-Indians traveling together to face each other and engage in catching up, rumor mongering, character bashing, and, if you're from Gujarat, sharing home-made food.


3. Convenience outlets are everywhere. Very convenient for laptop users and even for those who take the "Sweetheart my phone battery's dying so I gotta go see you next week buh-bye" route.


4. Flight information screens in every corner means you don't have to pester the exceedingly beautiful North Indian female attendants at the information kiosk and make them frown with useless questions like "Why is my flight not delayed?".


5. There are food kiosks at the northern, southern, eastern, and western parts of the pre-departure area. Good news for those who take budget airlines.


6. No one is allowed to go down to the gates unless the public announcer says so.


7. And the jewel in the crown: QUEUE MARKERS! For someone who's lost so much patience and raised so much blood pressure with queue-jumpers in India, Delhi Airport's queue markers are sweet, embraceable vanguards of discipline and order. We've indeed reached the new century in India with Delhi Airport's queue markers.

I now board my plane in bliss.

Queue markers at Delhi Airport

TRAVEL TALES : Deadly in Delhi

TIMES OF India announced yesterday that the Delhi-Gurgaon Highway claims a high rate of road accidents, with almost 100 people getting seriously injured every month. I'll be the first to concur with this, after witnessing a motorcycle accident on the same road in the morning.

The road was sloping up, and traffic was piling ahead of me. Suddenly, a motorcyclist showed up from nowhere, zipping past by me. Then just as suddenly, SCREEECH! The man somersaulted in the air, hurled out of the bike, and landed on the ground a few meters ahead of me. Thud! Then the bike! It fell on top of him like a flat sheet of plywood!

The sight was instantaneous, merciless, spectacular. I decided not to stare, fearing blood and limbs scattered on the gravely wide highway. Besides, even if there weren't blood and limbs, I wouldn't have seen anything, as a crowd quickly formed around him.

I was told later that the man managed to sit up and hold his crash helmet that had been split into two. I assume that the motorcyclist could have accelerated his speed, since the road was sloping up. Upon reaching the curve, he must have tried to decelerate, but the timing was off and he tried to veer away. With that speed, it was too late and too difficult to control the bike.

I hope the man is well. To all readers, please drive with care, caution, and common sense always. And if you're a motorcyclist, please avoid such high-speed roads as expressways and highways. You don't belong there. No, not even if you're an Evel Knievel junkie. Take the arterial roads for your sake and others' sake.

Unless you decide to take the expressway to the afterlife. Even then, don't take others with you!

Amongst India's finest

The Spencer's VM Team

SPENCER'S RETAIL won another accolade tonight: its visual merchandising (VM) is recognized as one of India's best at the Retail Design Awards in Bangalore. It's the first time the company ever received this kind of merit, and that goes to all the men and women pictured above. They're the Spencer's VM team, and I'm thrilled to be their team head!

While we didn't get the top prize (it went to Levi's), being second best is just as good. First, the recognition comes at the end of the VM program's first year in Spencer's, so it's a great motivator for us to do better in the coming years. Second, this marks the first time that the Best VM category is introduced at the Retail Design Awards, so getting shortlisted alone is already a historic achievement. Finally, Spencer's is the only food store amongst the nominees. That alone makes the recognition so reaffirming. Our efforts are paying off.

The slide show below includes images shown at tonight's awards ceremony. It's how we won the merit!

Image source: Paul Ancheta at Flickr

TRAVEL TALES : Filipinos in northern India

Celebration of Independence Day
Image source: Paul Ancheta

I'M ENDING my "blog drought" with this weekend's story. It's about the best two consecutive days I've had since the Regional Bahá’í Conference in Kolkata in November 2008. It deserves to be told.

Last Thursday, with an invitation from the Philippine Embassy in New Delhi, I flew to the Indian capital to help celebrate the 111th anniversary of the Philippine declaration of independence on 12 June (yesterday). I planned to use the visit to renew my passport and register as an overseas absentee voter for the Philippine national elections being held next year.

I also wanted to meet New Delhi Consul Iric Arribas, trade officer Vyke Roaring, and Mumbai Consul General R. Swaminathan in person. We've had phone and e-mail conversations earlier, so it was the right time to finally meet up. Over lunch, we enthused over possibilities of trade links with the company I work with, and shared upbeat stories as Filipinos living in India.

Then came Friday morning. It was Independence Day. I joined over 50 other Filipinos for a flag-raising ceremony at the gardens of the Philippine Embassy. Thoughts of socio-political freedom were farthest from my mind. There was something much more thrilling than those.

I was finally meeting a bona fide Filipino group, for the first time since coming to India in December 2005.

They had remained faceless names in the "Filipinos in India" Yahoo!Group that we shared online. Not anymore. Standing on the embassy gardens, they were smartly attired in Filipino shirts and dresses, the dainty embroideries on pineapple and banana fabrics gently lit by the early midsummer morning sky. Smiles were shared, laughter echoed. And there spilled Tagalog, the beautiful language of my very many years in Manila. "So you're Dante!" "Remember Paul Ancheta, who was speaking in Ilocano? That's him!" "Yes, I remember the message you posted about remittances!"

The Philippine ambassador to India, Mr. Francisco Benedicto, and his lovely wife opened up their home to welcome the community after the flag was hoisted. Their house, elegant and inviting, was spacious enough to fit all of us, seated. It was also the perfect setting for a perfect Filipino breakfast. Sinangag. Lugaw. Maja blanca. Tapa! The last time I had Filipinized spaghetti was during my brother's birthday in Manila in 1998, so that morning's spaghetti lingered a while in my mouth before getting chewed completely.

Later that day, several more Filipinos joined the same group at The Ashok hotel for evening cocktails with members of the Delhi diplomatic corps. Instrumental versions of the Indian and Philippine national anthems opened the evening and set its tone: dignified, familiar, enveloping. I never realized how moving the Indian anthem could get.

Those I met this weekend represent the most diverse Filipino community I've seen in all the places I've lived and worked in. They come from the fields of NGO, hospitality, fashion and product design, retail, urban planning, public works, private service, and family builders (I refer to the housewives of Indians). I was introduced to Monsignor Arnaldo Catalan, the first Filipino appointed as secretary to the Papal Nuncio in India. I met a Filipina working at the Norwegian Embassy, and saw a Filipino married to the lady running Spain's cultural center in India. I also saw the best of both worlds when I met the non-Filipino spouses and their children: those kids should join beauty contests when they're old enough!

With all the familiar Filipino food, fun, and fellowship in Delhi this weekend, it was like being transported back home. It was good. Very good.

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