Homelessness That Most Would Envy

The postings on this site are my own and don’t necessarily represent IBM’s positions, strategies or opinions.

I Should Be Too Ashamed to Complain

We have been living in a truly five-star hotel for more than a month. IBM Procurement must have negotiated a fantastic deal because this is even nicer than the Grand Hotel, where we took Pat's mom for vacation several years ago.

Last night, we celebrated the 15th anniversary of our first date by having the buffet dinner at the Raj Pavilion and then coming back to the room and watching a downloaded version of "The Closer." Each of the episodes is just US$2, and so Pat's going to download the rest of the season.

I haven't posted for a couple of days because work has been busy, but also because I didn't want to add an(other) entry on how I'm challenged during this adventure and prevailing....

Yesterday, I thought about how I haven't yet had many quintessentially Indian experiences, since I've mostly been working, for example, I haven't yet visited a temple, and then I realized, Yes, I have had quintessentially Indian experiences, just by living in the country, no matter how many stars the hotel has. Or maybe I've had quintessentially expatriate experiences, but either way, I'm a world apart from my life in Montclair, New Jersey.

A colleague suggested that the house we've chosen will not provide an authentic Indian experience, which annoyed me; I need to be functional at work above all, and so my home needs to be comfortable and quiet, like it is in the States. I don't want to feel defensive about this, but I do.

...But I'm Not

Our lease was supposed to be done and we were supposed to move into the house today. The owner said, No, he'll be ready instead on August 5th, and will turn over the keys only after the substantial, interest-free security deposit is wired to the bank here, which will be challenging to make happen by Friday (India time).

The only appealing part of this experience of renting a house so far is that the vendor IBM has us dealing with is called Writer Relocation. I like to imagine that I am a writer, being relocated. (Actually, it's just someone's last name; I checked the origin with our agent.)

Now, it must be apparent why I've stayed away from the blog. I'm cranky and unsettled. And just as Pat and I begin to feel most alienated by our opulent homelessness, someone here does something extra-touching, which melts us:

Last night, John, who drove me to work daily for the past month, and who has earned a promotion, so that he does not need to drive so small a car anymore, gave Pat and me a goodbye-card, including a long, hand-written letter, letting us know that we are "cool persons" and that the world is small, and that we will see each other in it in a different setting next time.