Actual Work

From the exiting times of the weekend to the office. The driver takes me through the Mumbai traffic to the Godrej Industries complex. Traffic is amazing, again. Seems there are only a few rules in traffic: honk and find the hole. So if you want to pass or you want to signal imminent danger, you honk. If there is only a hinge of an opening, just force yourself in there. Combine this with road constructions and you have a good recipe for chaos, a melange of tightly packed honking vehicles and dust. If in Western Europe people generally respect the stripes on the road and stay within the lines (seems kinda cute now), drivers in India have forgotten all about them. Space is there to drive upon. Keep your vehicle moving. Over the rocky grounds on the side of the road if necessary. Light motorcycles drive on the opposite side of the road because of the complete jam on their own side. Occasionally a policeman can be discerned waving his white gloves. Not that it really matters since everybody basically does what he wants.

Arriving at the office. Or what it seems. Laptop serial number has to be registered along with my regular id. After a while it seems I've been dropped at the wrong building. I suggest walking but before I get the directions a car is given orders to take me to Mumbai-2. After another round of filling registrations I get to the cubicle city. Pretty amazing if you've never experienced it before. People working in 2.5m by 2.5m squares each in one corner. I get my own sweet spot and plug in. Finally I and the team can get going. At 13u30 we go out to lunch and I'm suggested to try the Indian regular lunch. I go along and enjoy the wonders of the Indian kitchen. Meanwhile Indians are eating from the people around them, hand poking in plates, dishes are exchanged, Dieter gets a Kass (buttermilk with sellery). Summary: it's one large eating orgy. Although this does injustice to the civilized and trivial way with which this all happens. As I had been before, I look in amazement at the skilled one hand chapatti tearing (right hand only!). I must master that one day.

Me and the team plough through the documentation, everyone's favorite, and call it a day at 18u00. Meanwhile I'm not feeling very well and extremely tired. The lack of sleep has caught up on me. Exhausted I embrace my coma. In the middle of the night I wake up feeling very sick. [details deleted]. In the morning I'm like a wet towel. No energy, empty, nauseous. My colleague provides me with some pills just in case. Somehow I manage to make it to lunch and go for the diet lunch which consists of tomato soup and bread. The other parts I skip. In the afternoon the developers finally can get there anxious hands on some code, think enthusiasm. By the time we get back to the hotel (19u00) I feel better safe for something stinging in my belly. After having devoured a plate of 'safe' food, the stinging disappears. Hunger, it's you (Sorry Murphy). Again quite tired I hit the six pillow bed.