02nd to 04th January 2008

I find that, the more I look round, the more I see evidence of India's colonial past still thriving in these modern times. Allow me to give you two shining examples:
Firstly, there's Tiffin. Tiffin is something to me that invokes images of Carry On Up the Khyber, you know the scene where Sid James' character is given numerous opportunities to right the wrong done to him by the Khasi of Kalabhar? It is something that died out in the UK a hundred years ago (if it every truly existed back home)....it is something that will always be associated with British rule in India because it is such a uniquely British thing! Tiffin in India nowadays has evolved into more of a take away thing though. There are signs for it on every other stall along the road so it is not the afternoon social experience you might think. It may be a British invention, but rest assured I have no intention of experiencing it any time soon....certainly not from the roadside stalls anyway!
The other British legacy is bureaucracy. People have very set roles in whatever they do in India and never cross the line into another person's job description. I saw very clear evidence of this on Friday when I went for a blood test. I needed to know my blood type for my ID card (no I don't know why either!) but I was encouraged to get this done and went along with one of my colleages. We arrived at this clinic/hospital thing and immediately noticed everyone staring at us. I am not sure why we are so different but we are certainly an object of fascination for the locals purely because we are a different skin colour. We filled out the required form, paid the 70 rupees and were shepherded into another room down the corridor. The man then stabbed at my finger repeatedly with a needle like he was pricking a sausgue innumerate times until the blood came out. I dislike hospitals at the best of times so being used as human pin cushion did make my stomach turn I can tell you. He then passes the blood samples to another man who tests for the blood type. That man then passes the information to another man who types out a letter with your blood type on it. He then passes that letter to someone on reception, who in turn passes it to you. Now do you see what I mean about how they never encroach on each others jobs? The hospital itself did not look the most inviting of places either (which did not help put me at ease) It was badly lit, did not look as clean as maybe it could have been and like I say, we were stared at a lot! Trust me, anyone who believes the tabloid hype about NHS hospitals being infested with MRSA due to shoddy cleaning standards should visit this one in Hyderabad for a reality check! Still, it's over and I am glad for that much at least.
Ladies and Gentlemen....the Kiwi has landed! He is here and already living up to his reputation! We met up again (for the first time since leaving EBJ) last night and the drink flowed I can tell you. By the time we had worked our way through numerous beers, the majority of a bottle of bourbon, and sunk a few whisky shots as well we were quite merry. A midnight dip in the pool beckoned, as did an improptu game of wonky cricket!! I am feeling it this morning though. I have woken up with an eye that is red with blood and what looks like a black eye. It isn't though as it is not bruised, it just feels dry and sore so I guess I have picked up an infection or something. I got off lightly though, one of my villa inmates has woken up with a busted chin....the result of a fall near the pool when he slipped on the marble flooring. Whoops!