Granada Excerpts

Again, Vamsee has done an incredible job putting pictures to words. Check it out. So, I won’t dwell on the details of the trip. I just wanted to talk about the stories behind the words and the pictures.

Granada is a very different place. One day it looked straight out of a medieval period drama. Another day, it looked as though it was straight out of a street in Istanbul or Afghanistan. The people were gracious, too gracious at times. We were being led to our lodgings by this old man who spoke passable English. He was reeking of sherry and garlic, quite an odd combination. One with a weak stomach would have puked in a minute. This street that the house was on had an exotic feel to it. There were graffiti of different clubs and action groups. There were the ubiquitous anti-US and anti-Bush slogans everywhere. Then I chanced upon a suicide-prevention center graffiti. Never have I seen a weirder way of advertising! As we were walking past the graffiti, we passed by a group of teenagers who were goofing around, a few of them in gothic costumes- eye shadows, hair in spikes, and wearing iron in earrings and bangles. It was quite a sight. We then came to a Halal shop, with screaming signs that promised the best meat in Granada. As we walked up to our room on the 1^st floor, the smell of garlic and meat wafted up to meet us.

The rooms were fantastic. Although someone who had occupied the rooms before us had managed to lock the bathroom FROM THE INSIDE! It was the strangest thing. Vamsee talked about the TV. The screen was the size of a postage stamp. It only had 3 channels. And one of the channels always carried an American show dubbed in Spanish. Saru and I stayed glued to the TV in spite of the Spanish. You cannot blame us. It was the one where Ross wears leather pants, and powders his thighs to put them back on. It was funny in English, and it was funny in Spanish as well! But Vamsee and Kala wanted to spend quality time talking. Who talks while Friends is on TV?!

We walked everywhere. Kala was a fantastic sport. She was struggling to breath, but would not give up a chance to make fun of everyone. There was this one time, Saru preferred to call ducks “bataks” (Hindi for ducks). Substitute “bataks” for ducks, and you get some pretty funny sentences. For instance, he said “Hey! Look at the cute bataks”. People walking by gave him ugly looks.

The last day, we ran out of toilet paper. One of us (I won’t say who) resorted to using that menthol-saturated tissues. All I say is menthol can be painful. To add to our discomfort, there was no shower in that bathroom, and no shower curtain. So you had to use the hot water and angle everything so nothing spilled out. Hot water was another rare commodity. Vamsee went after Saru. Now people who know him, know that he is perfectly happy sprinkling water on himself as though it was pepper, and claim he was cleaned. So the geyser was practically untouched after he was done. Then Vamsee went in, and had a long luxurious bath. 25 gallons of piping hot water, gone in 30 minutes of ablution. I was only glad not to take a bath.

The next day, Saru had to call India. So we stopped by a local calling center (pretty much like the PCOs in India). As these 2 lovebirds squeezed into a cubicle the size of a coffin, and took turns screaming into the phone, Kala and I stepped outside. Someone had forgotten to flush in the bathroom next to the cubicles. It was reeking inside. As we loitered about the street, we noticed a couple of teenagers sitting next to the call center. As we sat down on a bench by the building, one of them slowly walked toward us as though he did not want to scare us away. I had noticed that these kids were smoking a joint. This kid came up to us and asked Kala if she wanted a hit! She shook her head and looked away. Then he said “Aei!!” and offered me the joint. I said “No man. It’s fine. Tranquila brother”. He understood “Tranquila brother”, and repeated it again and again and again. Then he started dancing. Then cried, and continued dancing. It was hilarious.

I have got to tell you about the public restrooms they had in Granada. After a couple of beers and a falafel pita, one gets an unbelievable urge to relieve himself. Then, at 8pm, we started hunting around for a public restroom. We found one at last, in the middle of a plaza where there was a crowd gathered to watch a bunch of clowns. You put 0.30 Euros into a slot, and the door swings open. In the room is the loo. You step inside, press a button and the door swings shut. Here’s the catch. The door remains closed for exactly 15 minutes. After that, the door swings open. So if you had a little problem. There is a chance that the door would open. And there you will be, with your pants down and your ass hanging out and half the world watching. A perfect nightmare.

Spooky House in Seville

The house we stayed in was-how to say it-spooky, including the occupants. It had three floors. Kala and I stayed in the bottom floor. There was a large portico, which was filled with plants and a large mirror. The sun shone through the large roof, 3 floors above. Saru and Vamsee’s room was on the second. Pepe the landlord and his housemate lived on the 3^rd floor. To talk to them, you had to buzz them on the intercom, and look up from outside the house. He would then come out onto his balcony with his dog, and grace us with his presence and yell down “Que?” There’s more about this fellow and his dog below.

We were leaving for Granada the next day. Train was leaving at 12pm. We woke up early and packed our bags. Kala, as it was for the entire trip, woke up breathing like a werewolf at 2am that morning also. It was Kala’s turn to take the shower in our room--hot water enough for only one person per room. Don’t ask. The only thing left to do was to pay our rent.

So I buzzed Pepe. Oh, and I forgot to tell you about his housemate. This man was always dressed in a corduroy jacket, and was always walking the dog. He always stunk of alcohol, and his eyes were always bloodshot- anytime of the day. I think we already established that neither he nor Pepe spoke a word of English. That dog was another specimen altogether. It was buck-toothed, i.e., it had one tooth sticking outside its mouth. I had never seen a dog like that before. Kala kept grabbing my arm every time the dog came near. Vamsee is scared of anything that even smelled of a dog. So she refused to come up to Pepe’s room. I tell you, the woman would run behind Saru if a little poodle the size of a pin came sniffing at her toe. This dog was old as well, and man was it mangy! Just like everything in the house, grooming of the dog had also fallen into disrepair.

Kala and I went up to Pepe’s room. One more thing to add to the creepiness, the steps always creaked. 10am, and the man was drunk, and he had forgotten to put his dentures on. As he was mumbling about the room looking for a pen to write the receipt with, Kala and I looked about the living room. The walls were painted in saffron color, of all colors to choose from. Everything looked old. The room also smelt funny. As though someone thought of making beef stew, decided to make pickled cabbage instead, then forgot to put it inside the fridge and it began to rot. I had to step outside to catch my breath soon enough. But Kala was courageous. She held her breath.

Then, I saw something made me step back and take notice. There was a water-color painting on the wall in front of us. In it was a young man in a white shirt, sitting next to a bay window, on a white couch. Blue ocean stretched beyond behind him in the window. There was a dog sitting next to him. This dog looked just like the buck-toothed one that was running about us now, wanting to be petted- buck-tooth and all! Just curious, I looked toward the bottom of the painting to see when this was painted, and it read “1939”. I thought it was too much of a confidence, and I concentrated on the man in the painting. A man in his thirty’s, with thick and slick black hair combed back, a sallow complexion and an empty look overall- it was a younger-looking Pepe alright! Kala was busy trying not to throw up from the smell. I thought it would be good to distract her. Instead, I bloody well scared her alright. She asked the question that was at the back of my mind as well: If this was Pepe in the picture, he must be over 100 now! This man looked 70-75 tops. And that dog must be over 90 as well!!! It was very very strange indeed.

Then I chanced upon another painting next to this one. This one was even creepier. This one had a man, again in his thirties, with a parrot perched on his shoulder, and a pregnant cat sitting on his lap. Darker in complexion, with a brown corduroy jacket, and a moustache- this was the housemate of Pepe. The same question escaped both Kala and my lips: Were these the oldest gay couple known to us? And what was the story with these pets of theirs?

Before we could see any more, Pepe ambled up to us with the receipt, which he had written himself. The penmanship was spectacular. It looked as though he had written it with a feather, with a calligraphy that was quite uncommon, although with a mild tremor. We could not bear the odor in the room anymore. And Pepe seemed to be fading. I swear I could see flies swarm about him everywhere he went. So we thanked him, and left the house hurriedly.

Carrying our heavy suitcases, we left the house locking the doors behind us. As we were leaving, I looked up and saw the buck-toothed dog and the pregnant cat look down upon us, from 3 floors above. As we turned the corner and before the house disappeared from view, I swear I saw the creatures lift their paws bidding us farewell…

Flamenco Night

You all know the saga with the retrieval of the stolen laptop. So you can guess the utter relief we must have felt. And relieved we were. Vamsee has done a phenomenal job cataloging the sights we saw after the Seville episode. Click here to read it.

You saw the New Year’s flamenco show. Man, was she hot- Picante hot. The four of us were captivated by the waitress. Kala was awestruck by her narrow-as-a-twig waist. Vamsee thought she looked like a doll. Saru thought she was a doll until she moved and talked. He had this camera with him, which he was focusing on this doll. You should have seen the shock that registered in his face. I did not care if she was a doll or not. I blessed the minute she talked to me. She said “%^^*())?><”. That was what it sounded to me. I must have looked lost-Me without my phrase-book. Then she switched to a sultry Spanglish “What dhrink dhu yu wanth?” I said “Thank you!” with a sigh of relief. She laughed, then Kala laughed, then Vamsee and Saru laughed. We all laughed, since the goddess found it funny. We all settled down with our glasses of red wine. Then the singers came, and gave a performance that was fantastic. None of us understood what he was saying. But it was filled with pathos. Vamsee and Kala fell for the guitarist, who looked like a young J-Lo’s husband (forgot the name).

I forgot to mention the maitre d’. He had this whole lover-boy image thing he wanted to put out there for all the available men that night. Pink shirt, hair down to the shoulders and balding at the front, and the tie was blood-red. Quite an ensemble, I must add. He gave the introduction to the performance in Spanish, French, and Spanglish.

Then the real goddess came down the stairs. I felt every man and woman shift in their seats. I know I did. The room was small enough to fit 30 people. They had seated 50. So it was shoulder-to-shoulder room only. The first dance Carmen did was sad. We deciphered it was about this woman who was lamenting her dead husband, who may or may not have cheated on her. Kala went and asked her what the meaning of her dance was, after the dance was over. The lady did not speak English, but the maitre d’ did. He said it was very difficult to explain. A lot of help that was. We loved it though. The second dance was more joyous. This is what Vamsee recorded for all of us to enjoy, bless her soul. After the night was over, we had champagne, then grapes for every strike of the hour. At the end, Kala and Vamsee took photos with this woman. Then, hand in hand, we walked back to our apartment. In all, it was a gorgeous night. One that we will remember every time New Year’s Eve rolls over. Not a worry in our hearts. Saru had his two pants, Kala did not care her throat had slammed shut thanks to the alcohol. She had her menthol-scented tissues (you have got to see them to enjoy them), Vamsee was positively delirious since she had seen her first and only Flamenco for the trip, and I did not care for I was in the best company in all of Europe (at least in south Spain). Little did I know that stranger times were up ahead.

Addendum: The Punchline

Kala just reminded me. I forgot the punchline. One tends to do that at 2am.

We got back the laptop fine. Thank the lord. But there were a few items missing.

Saru realized the Kola maavu (Muggu pindi) was missing. It was in the laptop bag, cause I put it there in the last minute rush to get into the cab. We think the cabbies took it thinking it was cocaine. I wish I were a fly on the wall when they try to snort or shoot the thing. Just curious, does Calcium Carbonate act like a drug at all ?

Also missing were Traveller's checks for 250 Euros. Saru and Vamsee promptly cancelled it, and they are getting their money back. In all, we didnt lose anything, save those 36 hours. But there too, we got ahead since it had you good people glued to the site.

Adios
Bhaskar

The Spanish Inquisition-Seville-Part 3

We used to think when we were in India, that the police were good for nothing. Corrupt, morbidly-obese from all the extra income they earned, drunk by their own power, they were a nuisance more than they were protectors of the law. We guessed then that the police in advanced societies were much better and honest.

Well, we are here to tell you friends that they are no better in Spain. They did take pity on Saru and Kala everywhere they went that's for sure, and did not demand any money to hear them or file a report. But then, the sight of a worried Saru is pretty heart-rending. Not to mention Kala, who was pretty sick by then and could hardly speak. I could hardly hear her when she bid us farewell and boarded the bus with Saru to go to Seville city center.

First stop, the "Lost and Found" department. They met the guard at the gate, who would not let them in unless they told him their case. This was a recurring event everywhere they went. The guard seems to be like the peon in our sirkar offices. Next problem, no one spoke English (and I had the phrase book to battle the cab drivers). They found one sympathetic lady called Lucia, who spoke a little bit and she helped them. They hit an obstacle when they could not recollect their address in Barcelona. The police needed to know where we might be in case they found the laptop and they had to ship it.

So these 2 went to an internet center to check their hotmail account. Smart people that the women folk are, they had emailed themselves all the details in case we needed it later!! Saru also needed to email his lawyer to ask her to send him the duplicate H1B documents. However, the internet center was still closed at 11am! So Saru and Kala banged on the door and got the bewildered owner of the place to open the door a full 45 minutes ahead of time!! Then they went back to the "Lost and Found" department at1:34pm, only to find it closed for siesta. So, for the second time that day, they banged on the door and got Lucia. After all this work these guys did, she asked them to file a case at the local police next. Turns out nothing else can be done there anymore, as everyone is asleep at the Lost & Found place.

Now the police. 2pm, without a single morsel of food in them, these two people went to the local police station. This time, NO ONE spoke English, and they had to narrate their story to 5 different people. The cops (turns out Spanish cops are just as pot-bellied and chain-smoking as our own) there passed the buck, and asked these 2 to go to the police responsible for cab crimes, where the photo archive of the drivers was kept. Dead end, after 1 ½ hours of trying. To rub salt into the wounds, they cops also told them that this other place was at the end of the street, and to run as THAT place closed in 10 minutes for their siesta. The WHOLE freakin place shuts down for siesta.

So Saru and Kala ran and arrived breathless at the cab police station before the siesta began there. They even managed to get a cop to listen to their case. But after listening to their story, the cop told them this: "Sorry. Everyone is asleep here. Please come back Tuesday". Turns out it was a Friday and these people don't work weekends, then the 1^st day of the new year's. To make matters worse, we were leaving in 2 days (Sunday) to Granada. As Saru and Kala sank in despair, the cop advised them (which turns out to be the one good piece of advice they got all day) to go to the National Police station, all the way across the city

Again, they hurried to get to this one last station. Here, they finally got an interpreter who talked to them: from Madrid! For the first time that day this man heard them patiently and wrote up a complaint letter in Spanish for them and faxed it over to that office. After an hour of that, they had officially lodged a complaint. One noteworthy point is that Elizabeth's (our apartment owner) mobile number was distributed freely in all the places these 2 went to (She might be getting obscene calls even now, thanks to us). They also learnt that there were over 2300 cabs, and over 8000 drivers in that city. The odds of finding our one driver were pretty slim. Especially since every freakin driver looked just the same. Dejected and depressed they took the bus and headed back to airport at 6:30pm. As a last defiant act, Saru decided to stop by a nearby McDonald's and buy some fries just to give an American company his money. The fries turned out to be barbecue-flavored and neither of them ate it finally!

Back at the airport, things were beginning to warm up. My contacts among the cabbies kept growing. I was introduced to Jesus (Pronounced Hey Soos) by Pasqual (the tall cabby from Episode 2 earlier). He did not look like a cab driver. Swanky clothes and haircut, he looked straight out of a GQ magazine. He spoke better English and, best of all, he claimed he knew the president of the cab driver "Syndical"- a certain Senor Juan Carlos. The name of "Senor Juan Carlos" was taken almost in reverence. I understood it to be a union thing. I introduced Vamsee to this guy as well, and she found him very handsome. Vamsee and I did not let up the cab patrol at all. Even while talking to the cabbies, we kept one eye on the cab lineup. Then, out of the blue, I spot this one driver, who seemed very familiar. Stealing glances at him, it struck me that this short stocky guy was the driver of a cab that was behind us in the lineup the previous night. He had gotten out of his cab when we were haggling with our driver about the cab fare and had tried to intervene on the driver's behalf. He was driving a Benz, and that's what Vamsee remembered. With two independent confirmations, we knew we had a break. We noted down the cab number and the license plate number. I immediately ran to get Raoul, the policeman and told him the news. Vamsee went to Pasqual. Soon thereafter, I ran into Jesus and I told him. I also informed him that we had informed the police as well. Pasqual and Jesus assured us that they will look into it. We saw them conferring thereafter.

Vamsee and I knew something was brewing. Within half hour, they said there is a good chance we will be getting our documents back (NOT THE LAPTOP). That was exciting news indeed. I even met the elusive Senor Juan Carlos, who assured us that we will get the documents either that evening or the next morning. Then, everyone asked us to go home. Again and again, they requested we go home and rest. Something did not seem right. We could not go anywhere until Saru and Kala came back anyway. So we stayed put.

The mood was distinctly upbeat at this point. It looked as though every cabby knew we were going to get the documents back, and they all urged us to go home. Vamsee and I decided we needed to look relaxed and still look for the cabbie. Just to make sure nerves were not frayed, I told every cabbie I met that we were waiting for our spouses. I forgot to mention that Raoul, during the course of a conversation, asked me where my boyfriend was. After a few fervent translation attempts by the rental car lady, I realized he was asking about Saru! I quickly gave him all the spousal details. He did not make that mistake again.

As if on cue, Saru and Kala joined us at this point at 7pm. When we told them about this news, they were positively giddy. Kala tried to smile, but just at that time she had a coughing fit. Saru decided that he could pay for the return of the laptop. Now that we were assured that we were going to get the documents, we decided to get it all back, if possible. With my newly-established network of cabbies, I passed the word around that we wanted to speak to Pasqual, Jesus and/or Senor Juan Carlos.

7.30pm, Juan Carlos made a triumphant entrance with Raoul, carrying Saru's documents. Saru seemed relieved. After 8 hours of desperation, things were happening too quickly for him. While he sifted through the documents to make sure everything was there, Vamsee stepped up her offensive and asked Juan Carlos about the laptop. You should have seen his face at this point. There was surprise and there was fury. Saru, having gone through his documents, found a strip of Coldarin tablets among them. He remembered he had left them in the laptop itself, NOT WITH THE DOCUMENTS. So whoever had given back the documents, had taken care to remove the tablets from the laptop. In other words, they had taken the laptop and returned the rest. Big mistake to return the medicine. Vamsee picked up on it, and went to war. She and I pushed and pushed. As she and Raoul were talking, I pulled Juan Carlos aside and told him that without a password the laptop was useless to the person having it . I said that Saru was a computer engineer, working in India, and that Saru would lose his job if he did not get his laptop back. I even reiterated that we could pay. Juan Carlos picked up on it, and retorted "How much?". I must have looked surprised and/or pained (I did think highly of him until that point), because almost immediately he said "No. No money. For you, no money". Vamsee then took over, and did a routine of the "wrath of the righteous woman". She later confided that she was trying to bring some tears as well. But all she could muster was suppressed laughter. Strange woman, this Vamsee.

An interesting side note is that Raoul had this driver's mobile number, and was talking to the guy intermittently while talking to Vamsee. He was evidently talking to a middleman. Somewhere around this time, Vamsee dropped the bombshell that we had a police case filed with the National Police. Kala came up with a good idea to tell them that it is law to file a National Police complaint, whenever visa documents and passports are lost. That changed the tone of the proceedings as well. Raoul's phone conversation with the middleman was becoming more and more animated. When things were not working out, Raoul threw a tantrum and said that "Now its personal", and that he would get the laptop back fat any cost. It was all a freakin soap-opera, I tell you.

After that Juan Carlos and Raoul went away promising to look into the laptop deal. We decided to stay put and hunt for the driver. 3 hours went by, and there was still no news. Vamsee had the car rental lady call Juan Carlos. Within 10 minutes, Juan Carlos came to meet us, seething with fury. We had obviously interrupted something. He said "You go home. Come tomorrow 8am. I am here. You get laptop back. Go home now!!". Pretty definitive we thought. So we caught the bus and went back to the city center. Had a quiet dinner at a baguettaria. Sounds fancy, but it was a coffee shop which sold 2 baguettes with a couple of cheese pieces, for 5 Euros. We were waited on by a nice gay waiter. We slept a little better that night. I awoke, again, to the sounds of Pepe's pregnant cat crying, and Saru peeing. Dude and the cat have the nasty habit of waking up at 5am. Again, there was hot water for only 2 people. This time, Kala took a shower instead of me.

We caught a cab from the 3-women poster stand. This time, we did not even ask to go to the airport. The cab driver recognized us and took us there. 8.30am, we entered the arrivals area, and were immediately accosted by Raoul. He took us to the car rental lady and was talking when I saw a familiar face walk toward me. IT WAS THAT @#%@#& CAB DRIVER we were hunting for the past 36 hours. He showed up right in front of me. I called Raoul, who now had the driver translated as well. Turns out the driver had a day off the previous day. Otherwise, we would have gotten our laptop back earlier. We still had not seen the laptop at this point, and none of us believed a word.

Raoul and the driver asked us to come with them to the cab stand. We knew that we'd be outnumbered by the cabbies if we went there. Saru and I despised that place. We stayed put, and had these 2 guys come meet us at the airport- in public view. 5 minutes later, they come out of the cab station, the driver carrying the laptop bag. Saru was literally jumping up and down in glee.

The driver handed me the laptop, while still talking in Spanish. I understood a little bit, and I said "Gracias Senor.", and handed the bag over to Saru. Man was I glad to be rid of it finally! The driver disappeared soon thereafter. As we were all walking back to the terminal, I kept asking Raoul "How??? How Raoul, How??" He just smiled, and said " Now go. You and your esposa and friends go see Seville. Ok?"

I said "Ok."., and then asked him if we needed to pay anyone. We were surprised to learn we didn't need to. We then asked him to thank Senor Juan Carlos, Jesus and Pasqual for us.

We had a good celebratory cup of coffee (and tea for Kala), and left the airport for sightseeing. Our official sightseeing in Seville began with a good 36 hours delay.

Not to sound clichéd, but if this is not a perfect "Alls' well that end's well", I don't know what is.

After all this, we still cannot come up with a good hypothesis why we got everything back, without having to pay single Euro. Maybe it was our sad faces that haunted them. Maybe we were cramping their style by hanging out by their place of work, maybe Raoul was our guardian angel, maybe they realized we were suh poor people we wont have any money to pay them...

If you have any, we'd love to hear it.

Adios

The Spanish Inquisition-Seville-Part 2

So you guys think we are making this up ? Ok read on.

December 29^th, 8.30pm: We catch a cab back to the airport. Each time we make the trip between the airport and the apartment, it costs us 20 Euros. Not that the place is the Sheraton either. Every time we venture out, we always see two men holding hands, or 2 women kissing. Seemed like a very liberal area. There was this poster on a wall near the taxi place that Saru and I admired, inspite of the predicament we were in. It was in Spanish, but there were these 3 gorgeous women in it. We don't know what they were advertising for. What ever it was, they definitely caught our eyes.

9pm, and we were in the airport. Immediately, Saru and I went about trying to talk to a policeman. There were these cops directing traffic near the arrivals. Coming to think of it, we never ventured to the departures section at all. Weird. We met the driver at the arrivals, and figured that's where he might be. We figured if there were any chances of running into this fellow again, it was at the airport. The city was bigger than NY City in area. No way we could have run him down anywhere else. One of the 2 cops, Raoul, there spoke a little bit English. He seemed like he was willing to listen. To make sure we understood him correctly, he took us to the Europcar car rental kiosk inside the airport and had the nice lady there translate for him. He reiterated what Elizabeth had told us- Go to the Lost and Found department in the airport and in the city. He also warned that chances of getting back the stuff was slim. We told him we were going to be on the lookout for the driver at the airport, no matter how much time it took. He seemed surprised by our resolve, and told us to only note the taxi's number and let him know. He warned us not to talk to the driver. Turns out he was a cab driver, before he became a cop. He knew a few of the drivers. We were beginning to realize that the police and he cab drivers never really got along, and neither did the airport authorities and the cabbies.

Now that that was settled, Saru and I went outside and started patrolling the taxi stand for the driver. Seeing these suspicious-looking guys loitering about the gates, a few cab drivers started giving us the stink-eye. Some ventured to ask us what we were looking for. We told him, in broken Spanish and a lot of dumb charades that we had lost the laptop. We used the letter Elizabeth had written for us in Spanish. That and I re-enacted the entire scene of the driver noticing that the radiator was overheating, then lifting the hood of the car, then the incident with the laptop etc. At one point, he even screamed "Help!!" to the drivers to make them understand our state of mind. While funny on one hand, it was mostly a pathetic attempt. The drivers just shrugged and went back to playing foosball! While we were talking/gesturing to the drivers, some wise-ass set off a fire-cracker right behind us. We jumped, they laughed. Again not a very good omen. The drivers were just using us as comedy punch bags. We were convinced we will either get shot or mugged if we stood there any longer.

Meanwhile, Vamsee and Kala were patrolling the Lost and Found offices inside, and talking to the airport services people. There were a couple of nice people in the airport services office who called quite a few taxicab companies. It slowly dawned on us that the cabs were either owned by a particular cab company or privately-held. Slowly, Vamsee remembered that the cab in question was privately-held. The longer the night dragged on, the more despondent we all got. The driver was not showing up, and neither were the other cab drivers of any help to us. We knew a few of the cabbies by face. A few of them seemed sympathetic. All said the same thing: The laptop may very well have been taken by the next passenger, as it was left in the backseat. The driver hardly looks there.

11.30pm, and the driver still did not show up. So we decided to call it a day and take the last bus back to the city. While waiting to get a taxi from the cit center to our apartment, a taxi passed us by and the driver waved to us. We noticed it was one of the sympathetic cabbies. We reached home by 12.15, and tried to fall asleep. The landlord Pepe's pregnant cat started crying at 1.30am. Holy crap did that scare the wits out of me!! No one slept. Saru claimed he had to tell himself we would get the laptop back in the morning, to make himself sleep. Kala wheezed all night, and slept maybe for 30 minutes. I listened to the cat cry all night. Then soon, I could hear Saru in the room upstairs, walk to the bathroom and pee. The walls and the ceiling were very thin. Then I saw a hole in the bathroom ceiling through which Saru's talking and singing could be heard. Do you guys know that he sings like he talks ? Quite interesting. At 5am, I am left wondering all this. Soon everyone gets up, and we realize there's hot water enough for only 2 people!

We take the cab by the 3 pretty ladies poster again to the airport. The cab driver is by now familiar with us. We reach the airport by 9am. We have a quick cup of coffee. Then Saru and I go out and patrol the arrivals entrance for our cab driver. By this time, the number of cabs have multiplied. Every time a flight arrives, the crowd gathers and taxis start moving fast. We had to make sure we saw the cab driver. Saru and I had a routine. The passengers could board the taxis only at one point. All taxis lined up to that one point. This made our jobs a lot easier. Our routine was to walk up the taxi lineup, and bend down and look at each driver. This pissed off many drivers. Some would lift their chin up as though asking "What?? You have not seen a cab driver before?". Some were a little friendly and ask in Spanish "Any news or updates?". By this time I had mastered their shrug. Its an interesting expression. You shrug the shoulders, and open out the hands. At the same time, you roll your eyes upwards, while uttering an "Eh!". They seemed to understand that expression very well. I learnt to use that a lot. It means a lot in the Spanish communication. I used it for "Nooo. No luck", "How would I know?", "Sorry got no money", "Hey! What do I know?" to "When in Spain, do the Spanish".

After 1 ½ hours of this, we finally met Pasqual. He was this gigantic pillar of a cab driver. He spoke some English. His stature seemed to be as that of Rajnikant in Basha. He seemed to sympathize with us. He advised us to go to the Police department in Seville, where they kept photos of all the cab drivers of the city. We probably could pick out the driver there. Problem was only Kala and I knew the guys face well.

Saru came up with a good strategy. He and Kala would go to the police department. Vamsee and I would stay behind and try and nab the cab driver. We would leave each other messages on Vamsee's voice mail every 2 hours. Saru and Kala left for Seville by bus at 10am. Vamsee and I kept up the patrol. From 10 to 2pm, we did the patrolling in 5C cold. Vamsee was so tired by then, that she sat down on the bench on the sidewalk and fell asleep sitting down. She made such a sad sight, some of the cabbies seemed visibly upset.

Little did we realize that this was going to be one hell of a long day. Saru and Kala's one little police department trip became a full 8 hour ordeal...

The Spanish Inquisition-Seville-Part 1

As promised, the 4 of us who went to Spain collaborated and wrote this first piece. Please rest assured, this is going to get more and more interesting. I reiterate, this is by far the most memorable vacation we have ever had. Rivals the one time, I almost drowned in a temple tank, during summer holidays when I was 12.
Here goes... (Hope you guys have the patience to sit through it. Stay with me, I shall take you on a roller-coaster ride)...

The Spanish Inquisition-Seville1-Part 1

Saru has the worst luck traveling, next to Bhaskar. We have figured that out now, after this trip. Imagine this. All he had to accomplish was to come from Frankfurt to Seville with his India baggage. They pulled him over in customs in Seville as soon as he landed. For 2 hours, they went over the laddus, murukku and his underwear. As Vamsee, Kala and Bhaskar watched from outside, they had his suitcase open as they took apart the contents one by one. Then Vamsee got restless, and JOINED HIM INSIDE IN THE CUSTOMS AREA!!! One cannot even imagine this happening anywhere else. The best part was the kola-maavu (muggu pindi) he had in the suitcase. They smelt it, and then tasted it. When that didn't satisfy them, they sent it for chemical analysis. Evidently, they thought it was cocaine or heroin!! After they confirmed it was harmless calcium carbonate, they let him keep it.

After the hugs and handshakes, we had to get to the apartment. There were 6 suitcases, 4 backpacks and Saru's laptop, for the 4 of us. It looked like we had emptied our apartments/houses to come to Spain. We could have gone by bus. That would have been cheaper, but then we would have to get a cab from the last stop to our apartment. So it would work out cheaper to go by cab from the airport itself.

Just like in India, we haggled with the cab driver. After a brief back and forth in Spanish (Actually the cab driver was talking feverishly in Spanish, while we tried to catch a few words here and there in our phrase book), Kala and Bhaskar got into the cab, along with all the baggage, and Saru's laptop, which Bhaskar had slung onto his shoulder.

Now, Bhaskar & Kala's accounts of the unfolding events:

The driver drove all over the city, through some pretty shady areas for over half hour. We could not find any of the roads on the map we had. He stopped once right along the highway, thinking the radiator was overheating, all the time talking on the cell phone. Things looked quite out of the ordinary. He then pulled up in front of this old building, and was hurrying us along to get out of the car. We figured he wanted to get his car fixed as soon as possible. Isn't it interesting that when one hurries, everyone around them does too? To make matters worse, he was speaking Spanish, and we were speaking English. Imagine this, he was speaking Spanish, and at the same time dumping all our baggage on the sidewalk. While Kala was counting out the money, he grabbed it, got into his cab and drove off. We were left wondering if that was that scary a neighborhood. Didn't seem it like it though. Kids were playing soccer on the sidewalks. I did notice however, that one of the kids had a ponytail, that was yellow. The rest of his head was black. As the cab was driving off is when it hit us that the laptop got left behind in the cab! For a minute, we looked at each other when reality hit us like a ton of bricks. We lost Saru's laptop in one stupid split second!!! That cab driver was hurrying us for a reason. He wanted to disorient us, then trick us. It was pointless on our part to read a map, when half the streets did not exist on the map we had. We realized later that the map did not even cover the suburbs!!

That's when we freaked out. Kala, with her squeaky voice was on the verge of a total breakdown. Pepe, the 75-year old toothless landlord of the apartment, had already come down to meet us. He did not speak a word of English. While Bhaskar tried to explain to him that the laptop's gone, Pepe tried different people on the phone. Its evident he did not know who to call. Kala then tried to get him to call the police, but she could barely speak, since she had a nasty cold. Exasperated, Pepe then called this nice lady called Elizabeth who spoke excellent English. We initially thought she was a cop. Turns out she was the owner of the apartment and was hosting a party at her place when we had called. I gave the phone to Kala, who literally broke into tears on the phone. Seeing how distressed Kala was on the phone, Elizabeth came over to help us. She called a few taxi companies to see if they had the laptop. But there were just too many companies to call. We were by now dreading having to inform Saru and Vamsee about this. The laptop was actually issued by Saru's office, and it could jeopardize his job. It seemed as though this was all a bad dream, and that we would wake up very soon.

Meanwhile Saru and Vamsee had taken the bus, and then walked the last 1 km to get to the apartment. Hand in hand, like new lovers, they finally arrived an hour and half after they had left the airport. Bhaskar went down to the street to meet them. Saru, seeing how distressed Bhaskar seemed, commented that he looked as though he had lost something. That's when Bhaskar broke the news to them. Surprisingly, they were both calm while he explained the theft. All Saru said was "Oh man! I had my H1 documents in that bag". He had kept all the documentation he needed to get back into US in the laptop bag, and we had lost it. The four of us went to meet Elizabeth, who explained to us that our best bet was that the cab driver was honest enough to return the laptop. And that we might find him in the airport.

Elizabeth then wrote down in Spanish the following: "The bearer of this letter lost his laptop computer in a taxi on the way from the airport to the following address…..Please help him find the lost item". She also gave us her mobile number, bless her soul. We took the letter and immediately caught a taxi back to the airport. Our objective was to either find the driver and/or find a sympathetic policeman who would hear our case and file a case. The time was 8:30pm, one hour after the incident.

It was the 29^th of December. New year's was round the corner, and so was the weekend. Spain seemed like a place where people take things easy. We had to do this ourselves. 4 foreigners, who did not speak a scrap of Spanish (Actually Bhaskar knew how to say "Kiss my ass" in Spanish), in a foreign land. A very depressing and daunting task indeed.

Bhaskar was already freaked out since it was his responsibility to keep the laptop, Kala could barely talk, Vamsee has already made up her mind that we wont get any of the stuff back, and Saru held out some hope.

What happened next stumped us. We are still struggling to explain the strange sequence of events thereafter.

Coming soon!