A work trip to Benin city

What an amazing and charged week!

In Benin city Monday through Friday on an education project mission. It was my first field mission in Nigeria after working on the country for more than two years! Coincidentally, my first field mission in Afghanistan was also on an education project in 2007 to Bamyan province.

It was a packed week with meetings, school visits, social events and catching up with work post dinners. And it was wonderful to meet those officials behind the names that I have been coordinating with over emails and virtual meetings all this while. We visited a rural primary school and an urban Junior Secondary School, met with the principals, teachers, Learning Development Officers and students. Also visited the Innovation Hub that provides various trainings, and provides working space for remote work.

We had the opportunity to meet with Edo State Governor, it was impressive to hear him speak and to learn of the vision he has for the state. The Governor graciously hosted a formal dinner. We also met with the Honorable Commissioner for Education, where after our meeting she proudly showed us around her office and her collection of artifacts from Nigeria. She also joined for dinner one evening where the conversation was surprisingly light and was largely about travel. She wanted tips on where to travel in India :-) 

The project team itself, particularly the Chairperson of SUBEB (State Universal Basic Education Board) and the Project Coordinator, was amazing and made everything smooth for us. The team of seven I traveled with was so much fun, we bonded greatly and also celebrated a colleague’s birthday.

We didn’t really see much of the city but atleast made time the last day to go the craft market in Igun street, famous for its bronze casting work. My souvenir shopping was done. Benin has been on my ‘must visit’ cities in Nigeria after I moved to the country and I am so glad it happened. Visit to the Oba’s palace…if there is a next time. 

Here is an interesting (it’s long) article a colleague shared about the Benin bronzes…

https://www.theatlantic.com/.../benin-bronzes.../671245/

                                                                       Oct 24-28, 2022

Food and Art

A long weekend was upon us, and a dinner conversation culminated in a quick trip. Maya and I didn’t plan a lot, but we booked our air tickets and rooms in a nice boutique hotel. We didn’t know what to expect of Lagos, so we wanted to atleast be in a nice hotel. As we sat at the airport in Abuja waiting to board for what seemed like eternity, we researched for art galleries and fine restaurants, adding to our existing list. The flight was delayed by 4 hours, and we were starving by the time we got to the Nordic past midnight. But we had a relaxed dinner, sitting by the pool with cool breeze for added bliss. 

After a prolonged breakfast at the Rye the next morning, we headed to Nike Art Center – our first stop for the day. It is a 4-storey treasure house of art work – paintings, metal work and wood work by various Nigerian artists. There we met Madam Nike herself, much to our pleasure. She was quite indulgent, proudly showing us around and enlightening us about pounded yam. She changed into traditional finery and a headgear and graced us with a few pictures. Nike Art Center was the best we visited in Lagos. Thought Pyramid Art Gallery was good too. We also visited two other art places, not a lot to write about but they are contributing to the expanding art scene in Lagos.

                                                                                                                

We tried out several restaurants, some recommended, some researched. As a big part of our trip was about food, I must make mention of three favorite restaurants. R.S.V.P. piqued my interest because of its name, and the place did not disappoint us. The ambience was perfect for dinner and the food, fabulous. Shiro in Landmark Boulevard was next. The place was royal with a high ceiling and larger than life statues, and the highlight was the imposing face of the Buddha. The restaurant offered a serene setting, which was complemented by flavorful Pan Asian cuisine. The day we were leaving Lagos, we squeezed in SLoW for lunch. The attraction was its central courtyard, which housed the bar area. Sunlight streamed in from the open roof above and tall plants formed natural boundaries in the restaurant. No wonder its website described itself as a tropical brasserie. The roasted harissa cauliflower served with quinoa was exotic in its presentation and taste. While we also lunched at the Cactus and the Ocean Basket, they didn’t make it to my favorite list. Our evening poolside coffee and drinks at the Nordic was no less enjoyable, which was on repeat mode every single day we were in Lagos. And to make it special, it rained one evening. The pluviophile that I am!

The trip came with a fair share of amusing misadventures. W Lounge came highly rated, so we made a visit post dinner on day two. But out we were in 2 minutes, the music was so loud that we could barely hear ourselves. As we waited for an uber at the corner of the block, a lady came to us asking politely if she could drop us at the hotel. Equally politely, we said no. That’s when she started getting a bit pushy and insisted we allow her to drop us. Immediately our alarm bells went off and we scrambled back to the entrance of W lounge. There we were, mid-career independent women who have traveled the world scurrying like little children. It was an experience that had us bursting into laughter for many days after.

As we got ready say goodbye to Lagos, we had a little time to kill in the hotel lobby. The lobby had an interesting collection of coffee table books, but I was particularly fascinated by The James Bond Archives. I am a huge 007 fan and have not missed a single 007 movie, so I wondered why I never knew about the book. And unlike many typical coffee table books that contain more pictures, this book had riveting details from the movies and the movie making process. I managed to rummage through a few pages as we waited for our taxi to the airport. The book was massive. And presumably popular, it was out of stock on Amazon!

Food and art sums up our trip well. I think we did a lot for 3 days, although we missed visiting the highly rated Moist Beach Club (I am not kidding, that’s the name of the place). I don’t know if I will make another personal trip to Lagos, but if I do – I will repeat the restaurants. And see the ‘real’ Lagos.

Half way around the world!

My travel is never without adventure, sometimes more than I would like to handle! Of course, very glad to have spent a relaxing 4 weeks at home this time, being there for my niece’s birthday. She was super excited. And my homesickness continues.

But it feels like the 4 weeks of relaxation has already drained. I couldn’t head back to Nigeria straight as there is a travel ban if you have spent 14 days in India prior to arrival (does not apply to citizens and permanent residents). I knew this before I left Nigeria. I had an alternate plan chalked out which was to spend 14 days elsewhere before heading to Abuja. With COVID travel restrictions, logistically it was easiest to go to DC than trying to get to a visa to elsewhere. So I ,get to DC on a Monday evening, exhausted after a miserably long haul flight wherein I couldn’t sleep a wink. I already don’t enjoy flights, add to it a packed flight and terrible washrooms. I am sorry, but people really don’t know how to use washrooms. Forget about leaving it clean and dry for the next person!

Anyway I land, get to my friend’s place and retire early for the night. First thing in the morning at 5 am I get a message that the travel ban has been lifted. Much as I was happy for the news, the timing irked me. Couldn’t it have come one day earlier?! Now that I knew, I had to make plans to leave earlier than planned. There goes my weekend plan to Austin up in the air. It was a physically exhausting week trying to catch up on work backlog and trying to plan to return. I book a flight for Sat night and get my COVID test done. I hardly told anyone I was in DC, except for 2 friends. There was no way I could manage the catching up. I believed I was sorted.

Then one day before I am to leave, there is a whole lot of confusion because I figured out that the lifting of the travel ban was not published in any government website. Qatar said they had no information so they won’t let me board unless I can show evidence. News article was not going to work. I was glad I atleast had the presence of mind to check with the airline. I was almost going to reschedule my ticket and schedule another COVID test. But after a 6 hour back and forth on calls and emails, and to wonderful efforts from a colleague in the office, the information is published late in the evening on Friday. With hardly any time left, I manage to do some quick shopping. 

As though to be compensated, I got lucky on the 13-hour flight from DC to Doha. There was only a handful of people in the flight, so I stretched fully across 3 seats for a blissful sleep. No food, no movies. More than my body, my mind needed rest. So here I am in Doha on a 12-hour layover. Then have a connecting 10-hour flight to Abuja via Lagos. I can’t wait to get to my home in Abuja. It’s a total 35-hour journey, absolutely crazy. There were shorter connections, but the schedule didn’t work. But even with marginal inconvenience, it was worth sticking to my favorite airline. I love you Qatar Airways! It was not the food or the comfort of the lounge that lured me this time, but the shower!

A big thank you to two lovely friends, Harini and Zohra. Meeting them was the silver lining to my DC trip. For all other purposes, it was a useless and unwanted trip half away around the world. Except that these experiences create material for my blogs!

The walk...

 

After weeks, I took a walk around Crystal City. It was a cold, windy and gloomy evening, with very few people on the streets running or walking their pets. Some waited outside the 1-2 restaurants that catered to take-away, but most restaurants were closed. The few kept to themselves, did not make eye contact and no niceties were exchanged. The neighborhood had gone through a complete transformation, and the otherwise lively and vibrant Crystal Drive bore a deserted look. The silence was only broken by the sound of  rustling leaves and chirping birds. It was May 27.

Five weeks later, I took a walk again in the neighborhood. There was still light at 8:30 pm and there was every indication of the oncoming summer. It was humid and still. Restaurants were open and there were more people on the road. I walked the stretch of Crystal Drive to Long Bridge park. It was quiet nevertheless, and this time the silence was broken by a chugging freight train on the VRE line. It was July 1.

The time that had passed between these two evenings saw much action. There were protests across many cities in the US including Washington DC over the death of George Floyd. Friends and family were sick and tired of the stringent lockdown in most major Indian cities. The lockdown was much needed to curb the spread of the infection, but the question was for how long? Someone mentioned an interesting analogy of riding a tiger. You were safe as long as you were riding the tiger, but when do you get off? It was a vicious cycle. Again, there was a surge of infections in four southern states in the US. By then, I knew that it will be work from home all through August. I will not go back to office until September, even that if all goes well. My usual trip home in July was not going to happen. I will consider myself lucky if I can make it home in December.

So, coming back to the two evenings - there was a similarity. There was a certain calmness, as though the mind was cleared of all clutter. As though a fog had lifted, and the vision was clear. These were evenings of retrospection. When I was so caught up with activities otherwise, I did not have the time to reflect. The lockdown gave me that luxury – to rethink my priorities. Isolation is beautiful that way. Nothing had changed for me, and that knowledge was comforting.

With so much negative news around the world, I felt a great need for abundance of positivity. And if I cannot derive it enough from the outside, I must generate it from within. And I wondered where to start from? The work place is a good experimentation ground. I am blessed to have wonderful colleagues and work that I enjoy. But there are stress factors that sometimes I get drawn into unknowingly. The competition that I am not interested in, the rat race I don’t want to run, the networking I don’t want to do, and the self-promotion I detest. The stress is not because I struggle to do it, but because I consciously refrain in an environment where these are acceptable behaviors, and there is invisible pressure to follow suit. If I don't, perceptions run wild. I don’t compete, maybe I am not motivated enough. I don’t self promote, maybe I am not good enough. I don’t network, maybe I don’t have the skills. And I don’t run the rat race, maybe I am ‘not there’ yet. There is constant pressure to hold up to standards set by someone else. But why?

So I made myself a list of what I believe in ‘to remember’ always -

·   - Do not compete with anyone. If you have to compete, compete with yourself, to be a better professional and a better person that before. 

    - Motivation factors vary. Do things for whatever motivates you. Don’t do it just because it will lead to something.

    - Avoid toxic people and toxic behavior as much as you can. These are not conducive to physical and mental health.

     - While its okay to aim high, let that not be the only focus. Take time to enjoy life.

   - When you meet people who put you down, not to be angry. They need sympathy, because it is their insecurity that makes them behave the way they do. They can’t handle good vibes. They can’t be happy. But it’s their problem, not yours.

    - Have mentors who encourage and motivate you, and who take pleasure in seeing you grow. Maybe you can hope that those qualities will rub off on you too.

    - If someone hurts you, don’t dwell on it too much. It’s not worth your time and effort to figure out how to get back. The question you should ask yourself – is that person really that important in your life?

   - Most times, indifference helps tide over negative situations. Its amusing that indifference bothers people. Most expect you to react, and the fact that it does not bother you is difficult for them to digest. You get back in your own way. Call it a coping mechanism or escapism attitude. Whatever be it, it works perfectly.

    - Inculcate and demonstrate those qualities that you would like to see in the other person.

   - Don’t be swayed by so-called ‘leadership’ skills. Leadership is not only about leading. If someone in a position cannot or is not willing give you the space to grow or acknowledge your efforts, he or she is not a leader. Don’t look up to the wrong person. 

  - Break the myth in your mind about good communication skills. It is not about putting up a great presentation, speaking uninterruptedly in flawless English or the ability to cleverly win an argument. Does the person allow the other person to speak or is the conversation all about him or her? If the answer is the latter, too bad. They need to unlearn and learn again.

    - Growth does not have to be always vertical, there can be lateral growth too. Different experiences make your life rich and colorful.

    - Be comfortable in your skin. You should not feel the need to scream from the roof top that you are good. You should let your work speak for itself.

    - Do not let someone else define success for you. If today, you enjoy doing what you do and you are a happy person, that is success for you.

    - Most important of all, practice kindness. More often its important to be kind than to be right. You don’t have to win every argument. If the other person takes pleasure in believing he or she has won the argument, so be it. 

       Two roads diverged in a wood, and - 

      I took the one less traveled by, 

     And that has made all the difference. 

The above lines from ‘Road Not Taken’ by Robert Frost are some of my favorites. I don’t want to be afraid to take a different path at work, if that is what I truly desire. I don’t want to fall into the trap of herd mentality. In fact, I rebel against it. There are no hard rules about where one should be in their 40s, in their 50s and so on. I just want to enjoy life as it flows and enjoy the little moments. I will be a happy person. A happy person means a productive employee. This translates to a better organization.

‘Zen’ moments in the middle of surviving through lockdown. Surreal indeed!

#Coronadiaries#

A poem...

This is a poem by Vaikunt Venkatesan, my cousin's grandpa, who follows my FB posts. He refers to me and Sharmila Shanmugasundaram (my cousin's wife) in the poem.

I know two young ladies
Who are related as sisters-in-law
And they live in two continents
Across the Atlantic Ocean.

They know each other well.
One lives at longitude 11*East
The other lives at longitude 77* West!!

It is a pity they do not know
That they are rivals
In the realm of culinary art!!
In Facebook pages they upload
Pics of products they produce
Which we see and admire
And Mark a LIKE

While one taunts us with veganic extravaganza
Green Thai Curry with zucchini and broccoli
Sautéed paprika to go with besan chillas
And rice with soya curd.

The other lady not to be left behind
Flaunts mango pulisseri of Kerala vantage
To go with brinjal pitla of Tambrahm fame
Bisibelabhath of Karnataka tradition
Followed by the curdbhath as the finale.

The virtual feast goes on
Tickling our taste buds on seeing the photos
Making our mouth to salivate profusely
But alas nothing real to eat!

How I wish that the two meet in Bharat
To make the dishes and serve us all.

At the end of 8th week of HBW

When I penned a blog 6 weeks back, HBW felt new. I went into the mode with a belief that over a month, or a maximum of 2 months it will all be over. But as one week rolled into another, time became a blur and there was lesser clarity on when this will end. The light at the end of the tunnel felt like a mirage.

Over the weeks, work continued, busier than ever. Partly due to more meetings that compensate for the lack of physical interaction, and partly because it just takes more time to do the same amount of work at home than at office (maybe it is just me). I miss the energy in the office. But there is also so much going on in response to COVID and I am thankful to be part of that action. Work aside, everyone is trying out new things. I am no different. By now, I am a better chef and an amateur baker. I have, to some extent, got used to home workouts. But I remain a terrible zumba dancer despite 3 classes a week. I penned three blogs, this one included. April was a busy month on the personal front. I celebrated in style the Telugu and Tamil new year, my birthday and completion of 19 years at the Bank. I even created a folder for COVID lock down, which mostly contains pictures of my cooking, screen shots of zoom calls, and downloads of key news articles. Memories are important.

The human mind is amazing. We simply adapt. I have adapted to a point that this feels normal and will have to re-adapt when things open. It's been 2 months already and if predictions are to go by, it will be another 2 months before we experience any kind of normalcy - a 'different normal' than what we know. I am afraid my mind will lean towards being conservative in the short term when it comes to undertaking leisure travel, greeting people with a warm hug, taking public transportation, etc. But I will sail through that phase as well. Self-resilience is vital.

"When was the last time you did something for the first time?" – this is one of my favorite quotes. We didn't ask for the corona virus, and we surely don't want it to stay. But this lock down experience has given us the opportunity to try new things and do things differently, gaining skills we may need in the future. Some of them could become a way of life.

When I speak to some of my friends, the general sentiment is that post COVID, nothing will change, and life will be just the same. But I strongly believe that at the end of it all, every one of us will come out with some positive change. Even if it is something as trivial as appreciating the sound of the birds. As we are still in a state of not knowing when we will return to normal, I continue to keep my spirits high and outlook positive. This may seem difficult, but there is no better way to be. 

Tales from Timor

I landed in a small airport in a quaint city. I passed through the entrance that read ‘Welcome to Timor Leste’ and was greeted by smiling faces. Immigration was fast, and I was out of the airport in 30 minutes. But a mix up had me stranded for an hour and I did what I do best at airports - people watching! The hotel car showed no sign of arriving, so I eventually hired a local taxi. It was a short uneventful drive on practically empty roads, with the sea following on the side relentlessly. The water sparkled under the bright midday sun, and the tall coconut trees swayed majestically against the clear blue sky. All along, I strained to follow what the taxi driver was saying in broken English. 

I arrived in front of a nondescript hotel - Discovery Inn. It was nonetheless charming. A few men sat on the street pavement smoking and chatting and a lone car at the end of the street waited for the signal to turn green. I walked into the hotel and a pleasant young Timorese woman checked me in. I smiled looking at the stuff she handed to me, it was not often that I have received breakfast vouchers! As I passed the upper deck on my way to the room, my eyes caught a quick glimpse of the restaurant below - Diya (that was a Hindi term, meaning lamp!). There was no one besides me, and the silence was broken only by the rustling of leaves from the many plants on the deck. The furniture was simple and functional, but the green added a touch of beauty to the place. It was siesta time for everything and everyone perhaps, thanks to the gentle breeze from the sea not far away. 

This was the closest I got to any of the island nations in the Pacific (although the country is not exactly in the Pacific) – in a way I had it visualized in my mind and been fascinated with - the remote islands with its serene beaches. I have watched movies that romanticized these waters, the tiny lands and their people with a laid-back lifestyle. A land where the sunrise and sunset are more beautiful than anywhere else, and the sound of the waves is in perfect harmony with the winds. Where one’s footsteps mark a lone path on the beach and time stood still. An ideal place to lose oneself. I was already falling in love. Day 1, Sunday. 

A 1.5$ taxi ride brought me to the office. It took 8 minutes for the taxi to get to where I could have got on foot in 5 minutes - blame it on one-way roads. The office was housed in a rambling ministry building (from Indonesian rule). A look at the two huge tree trunks in the garden dispensed any doubt about how old the place was. I started the day with a staff meeting, with the focus entirely on the upcoming elections, planned campaigns, potential situations and emergency procedures! At a point, the security person told me not to be alarmed and that it was all precautionary. Before I could respond, a colleague who knew me from my Afghanistan days remarked “Oh! She has lived in Kabul, this is no big deal”. I smiled sheepishly; it was true. We got down to work right after the meeting. But during the short breaks in between, I was getting to learn about the country and the people, one little detail at a time. I had read up a bit before getting to Dili, but it never compensated for the local stories. Getting a government job was a challenge apparently as Portuguese was a requirement, and majority of the population of employable age spoke only Indonesian in addition to the native language Tetum. I was told that the government had spent big bucks on roads, but not much had been done for health and education. I sensed frustration. On the lighter side, the affordable lot made shopping trips to Bali!

Soon it was time for lunch and Moby’s was a good choice as it was close by. The weather was scorching hot, reminding me of Chennai. Moby’s was a home-run restaurant with minimalist decor, ceiling & standing fans, and a guitar. It was advertised as the sports bar. The menu was not elaborate, but a simple dish of rice with vegetables was not a big ask. My colleagues and I were the only ones at the restaurant. A heavily pregnant lady was varnishing the furniture in that heat, while 3 cats circled my feet for some food. As we walked back to the office, it was hard not to miss the sign ‘Largo De Lecidere’ in big letters in the distance. I made a mental note to visit during the week. The afternoon passed quickly and without a break, and it was soon 5 pm. There was a refreshing afternoon ritual that I followed the entire week thanks to my colleague Tita, it helped me skip coffee and stretch my limbs. Across the road from the office, just before the beach, were many coconut vendors. For $1 apiece, I got a heavy coconut brimming with sweet water and lot of tender coconut; it was a healthy option. Simple pleasures of life. Day 2, Monday.

We spent the substantial part of the day in meetings in Ministry of Agriculture. On our way back to office, we stopped at Tais market for a souvenir. The market had pretty rugs and wooden figurines. Tais itself refers to woven textile in bright colors, which is the country’s famous handicraft. I would have loved something in wood, but what I liked was too big to carry back. After an hour of shop-hopping, I settled on a Timorese headgear made of silver. It was unique and had an ornate representation of the traditional totem house on it – the Uma Lulik (sacred house). It now sits prettily in my office. Task accomplished.

Back in office, I spent time dealing with an overload of emails. Internet connectivity was a problem in Dili. When I was out of office, I had to forget about checking emails and using WhatsApp. Discovery Inn’s internet service was great by any standard - if I sent a message it would get delivered within the next 10 minutes! We operate in a 24/7 time zone, connecting with people in different places at different times, and Dili is 13 hours ahead of DC. So, the first 2 days, I napped late evening and woke up at midnight hoping to catch up on stuff. How wrong I was! Like everyone else, I took connectivity for granted. A local number did not help as the network was also weak. Yet, I had one for emergency. I made a note to myself – do all I have to in office, and otherwise cancel the webex meetings I had accepted for the week. Reality check. Day 3, Tuesday.

We decided to hike to Cristo Rei in the evening after work. It was a slow 30-minute drive on a narrow winding road along the coastline. We passed gentle curves and sharp bends, and bikers and runners. But as we left the city behind, the view got better and the beach, cleaner. There was no time to stop at the beach, but we did stop briefly to answer a curiosity call. In an isolated spot, rocks were stacked, sorted by size and color. An elderly woman sat under a makeshift plastic tent. She spoke only Tetum and said she spent hours by the beach selling rocks. The rocks were used as decorative materials in house construction. I nicknamed her the ‘Rockseller’. I asked her for a photograph, and she gleefully agreed saying that she was photographed all the time by tourists from Australia. As we were leaving, she put her hands together in an Indian namaste and gave a wide smile.

We continued our drive. We had to make it to the peak for the sunset. But sunset was going to be a challenge; it had been raining and the sky was overcast. We parked the car at a point and started the hike up 590 steps. The path was neatly laid out, and it was a comfortable hike except for the stifling humidity. Halfway up, a waft of cool breeze stroked my cheeks, and I was presented with a spectacular view of the waters on either side of the mountain. By the time we got to Cristo Rei, the sky cleared a little, but the evening sun had already begun its journey beyond the horizon. I sat on a boulder watching the sun go down all too quickly, but in the process covering the vast sky and expanse of water in stunning shades of orange and red. Cristo Rei, the 89-foot copper statue of Christ on a globe, stood gleaming and imposing. I was in awe. Day 4, Wednesday.

As I walked to the office in the morning, I saw small waves of people in red T-shirts. The election fever was palpable. I walked through a thick crowd that had gathered in front of a park for a peace march. Some supporters obliged me with a picture. Later that afternoon, Tita and I stood by the ‘0’ km point, as vans and bikes whizzed past with people waving flags and screaming. It was still orderly, and I did not witness any violence. By the harbor, people were queueing up in large numbers to take the ferry to Pante Macassar in Oecusse municipality to vote. Oecusse is in West Timor that is part of the Nusa Tenggara province of Indonesia. I was told people prefer the 12-hr ferry ride to the 6-hr road trip due to visa requirement. This was the only time in the week I saw so much activity in Dili, the city was quiet otherwise. This campaign prevented us from making a field trip to a project site outside Dili. But I hoped for better luck next time.

Dinner was at Diya, again. I was fortunate to get good Indian vegetarian food (the chef was a Pakistani from Australia) and had no reason to grumble. Still, few evenings during the week, I walked to El Legendario for some fresh air and relaxed in the open setting of the restaurant. After dinner, I habitually sat at the deck with my laptop until late to avoid remaining cooped up in the small hotel room. I was getting claustrophobic. Day 5, Thursday.

There were no scheduled meetings for the day as the government offices were closed. Our office too was closing half day, so we wrapped up things quickly. During a conversation with a colleague, I mentioned I was charmed by the sight of the many eating joints dotting the stretch of the beach. Many were family run, I was told. Soon, we were at NHA Casa for lunch. The restaurant opened to the beach and had a little garden, with a Ganesha statue in a corner. They had a long-handwritten menu, in neat handwriting, and the food was great. Once again, we were the only ones at the restaurant.

We had missed the Areia Branca beach the other day going to Cristo Rei. It was called the white beach for a good reason. So early evening, we spent some good time at the beach, playing in the water, picking shells and chatting. This time, the sun took its own sweet time to set. As Tita dropped me back at the hotel, I said goodbye to my indulging partner in crime. Sometimes, associations made at work go way beyond work. I knew this was going to be one such association.

I was amazed at how small the world was - how else do I explain meeting in Dili an Afghan counterpart that I had worked with for many years in Kabul! When we connected, he insisted I visit his home over dinner. I would not say no to Afghan hospitality in 100 years. So, I spent a lively long drawn evening with his family catching up on memorable Kabul stories as delicious food appeared continuously on the dinner table. It was the Afghan connection. Day 6, Friday.

It was a long trip back to DC – an hour’s flight to Bali with a 10-hour layover, 10 hours of flying to Doha and then 14 hours onto DC. During this time, I was recalling my experiences over the past week. I had always lived in crowded cities, so this little jewel of a country was alluring. I traveled again to Timor Leste after a year, and made time to visit Liquica and explore colonial ruins. It was a different world out there. But that makes for another story.

As we enter 3rd week of HBW…..

For once, the experience is not unique to me. It is the same story and similar reactions from friends and family all over. Most of us have not experienced anything so widespread and prolonged in our lifetime, and it is so overwhelming that it is hard to steer a conversation away from the topic. Let us face it, the coronavirus is here to stay for a while.

Face it, I must. The developments are indeed worrisome. But the question I ask myself is whether I want to spend my day constantly focusing on the news and panic? Clearly no. I believe that if I decide not to let my mind focus on it, I will at least be half successful. Like they say, its mind over matter. Everyone has their own coping mechanism. As I reflect on the past two weeks, there are things I try to do/not to do as part of my coping strategy. I say ‘try’ because not all of this works perfectly every single time, it’s trial and error. But by and large, home based work not been as bad as I thought it would be. I have a housemate, and it is a blessing during these times.

·  .  Don’t binge read news - I stick to two 15-minute updates, one in the morning and evening. I also get updates from the office. I cannot possibly digest every piece of news that is out there. I am happy to stay ignorant for 8-12 hours. It keeps me sane.

·  Don’t forward every ‘forward’ I get – Like many, I am part of many informal whatsapp groups. Average of 5 forwards per group times number of groups is a LOT of forwards. It ranges from factual news to personal stories to conspiracy theories. I cannot stop receiving the forwards, but I can refrain from re-forwarding.  The funny memes are exceptions, I forward some to a close circle if I think it will bring a smile. In fact, I saved two of them to use as part of this blog, but could not figure out who to give copyright credit to!

·   Maintain a routine – This has been the most challenging, I must admit. Being a night person, my mornings are not the most productive. The real work gets done in the afternoons and late evenings. Yes, there is a routine, just a slightly different routine each day. Well, whatever enables me to get work done for now is good.

·   Get my dose of exercise – Its spring, the sky is bright (although raining on and off), and the weather is nice. But I prefer to err on the side of being conservative and stay home. I get good tips on home exercises from my sister and roommate that I follow. My sister also conducts online Zumba sessions 3 times a week. I cannot follow the steps but I still join to get some action. And my dose of fresh air comes from the balcony.

·  Cook my favorite dishes – Home food is a comfort factor and cooking is a destress activity (like cutting vegetables and washing dishes). So every day I spend time and effort to cook one of my favorite South Indian dishes from my mom’s recipes. 

·  Don’t binge eat – The urge to raid the fridge is strong these days. I curb the feeling by telling myself that I must fit into my ‘spring collection’ clothes when I resume office (it won’t be spring then sadly). I give in once a while, but mostly have been disciplined. I do not want to be rolling out of my apartment at the end of this ordeal.

·   Engage in 2 of my hobbies – It’s been 2 months of no travel. So, I plan and research for my next two trips that I don’t know when I will undertake. But the process keeps me excited. I plan to restart work on a few unfinished blogs and travel scrap book. It is not that I have time to kill. But these activities help me stay focused, at the same time distracted from the ongoing crisis. A recent article on virtual worlds on BBC has piqued my interest.

·   Stay connected more than before – I always did a decent job of keeping in touch, but it’s reached a different level now - like an aggressive sales call pitch. Emails, phone calls, video calls – I average 3 non-work calls daily. I feel blessed to have that circle of family and friends I can count on. A cousin initiated a video call with my big group of cousins over the weekend, it was epic. I feel great.

·    Stay positive and stay calm – There must be an inner determination to stay positive. All of the above surely helps.

·    Laugh a lot – Its short of a therapy. I started this during my times in Kabul. I watch a comedy show for about 15 minutes before going to bed. It lightens the heart.

It looks like a lot, but it is pretty much what I would do even otherwise. Now I do it more consciously. The only annoyance factor coming from this lock down is the ‘disinfect’ ritual every time I leave the apartment (which is not frequent thankfully). OCD is not fun!

Before I even think about fashionably complaining how painful HBW is, I remind myself that my issues are non-issues in comparison to many others. While I am concerned for my family back in India, on a day to day basis here in DC I only need to take care of myself. I am not faced with the challenges of managing little kids, cooking for a large family or attending to elders. I can work from home while many are losing their livelihoods. I am not short of entertainment at home, while many do not have a shelter over their heads. I debate about what to cook every day, that says I am not short of groceries. I choose to count my blessings.

We are all in it together. We have to do what we should as responsible citizens and human beings to protect ourselves and others. We must remain perseverant, this too shall pass. I eagerly look forward to the day I will be back in office and see my colleagues in flesh and blood. It will call for a real celebration. Until then I hope and pray for everyone’s health. Thanks to technology that help us stay connected. #Stayhome#

Aisle 15

The departures board announced that the flight was delayed by an hour and will depart at 8 pm. It did not bother me much as I had two and a half hours to connect to the flight to Halifax from Toronto. The delay gave me time to pick up early dinner at the airport. For a Thursday evening, the airport was full and buzzing with people. Not one seat was available by any of the charging stations, and there were many passengers in waiting. I circled around the terminal a bit and managed to find a comfortable place, and parked my laptop. I sat back and relaxed. The delay also gave me time to finish reviewing two reports that I couldn’t finish earlier in the day. A productive evening at the airport terminal, I chuckled to myself.

I enjoy watching the hustle bustle at the airport, and the landing flights. As I looked out of the huge glass windows, I was taken by surprise. Earlier when I was waiting for an uber to take me to the airport, it was sunny and hot. But now, the clouds were turning from grey to black and had begun to envelop the sky. What started as a drizzle turned into a heavy downpour in minutes. The board flashed a further delay of one hour – 9 pm now. The incoming flight was hovering somewhere up in the sky unable to land. I had not paid attention to the weather forecast this time, it was apparently thunder showers. Slowly the announcements started trickling in of delayed flights and a few flight deviations. I didn’t like the sound of it and my brows came together in annoyance. I spoke to the lady at the gate who was surprisingly very helpful. It didn’t look like I will be able to make it to my connecting flight, she said. There was a flight at 6 am the next morning to Halifax with just one seat left. I didn’t take time to decide and she issued me a boarding pass for the morning flight mentioning that I could still try my luck to get on the night flight. What I was going to do in Toronto overnight was something I was going to figure out later.

Soon the skies cleared just a bit as though for the flights to land and take off. The elderly gentleman next to me was constantly giving me updates on the flight position, and proudly showed off the app he had downloaded that evening ‘Flight Stats’. He was heading for a meeting to Toronto before returning to Israel, he said as a matter-of-factly. As we both peered into his phone, there were indications of the flight descending. We knew before the announcement that the flight was landing. Call it petty pleasures. The process of disembarking and boarding was quick and finally the flight took off – it was 9 pm. The flight touched down in Toronto Pearson at 10:30 pm, with still 25 minutes left for the connecting flight. I hated these situations, it was perfectly fine with me if I knew for sure that I won’t make it to the flight. But the touch and go situation irked me. I was restless and my heart raced, because I wanted to make my best effort to make it to the flight. Those are the moments when you feel everything is operating in slow motion mode. All queues move while mine stalls. Not to mention the passenger in front of me at the immigration counter had to have a problem. It was Murphy’s Law in action of course. But finally, immigration was done – 11 pm. I talked to my friend in Toronto debating whether it was a good idea to visit just to spend 4-5 hours, that too at that ghostly hour. Then I noticed that the connecting flight was also delayed by an hour. My hopes were raised.

A marathon walk gets me in 30 minutes to the security for the Connections – 11:30 pm. I was told in DC I didn’t need a boarding pass for the specific flight and I could get one at the gate. But at security, I was not allowed to pass through and was told to get a boarding pass for the night flight. Was this not in contradiction to what I was told before? Apparently, the rule holds good for same day flights, my boarding pass was for the next morning. It couldn’t get more jinxed. I was directed to aisle 2, it was a painful wait. There were 2 customer service agents at the counter and 10 people in the queue, me at the fag end. The agents were taking their own sweet time oblivious to the restless people in the queue. It was 11:45 pm. I was not going to miss the chance having come this close especially with the flight scheduled to depart at 12:15 am. I excused myself, jumped the queue to request for a boarding pass. For whatever reason in this world that I failed to understand, the agent told me that the flight had departed as scheduled at 10:55 pm!!! NO……it is to depart at 12:15 am, but her system did not bring that up. At that point, I gave up. Taking a later than 6 am flight the next day so that I could visit my friend was also not an option as the flights were full. So, I held on to the boarding pass on hand dearly and inquired about a place to rest at the airport. Aisle 15, she said.

I got to Aisle 15 at 12:30 am. It was not very crowded and I got a row of 5 seats to myself. I checked out the place for the nearest washroom and charging point, and settled. A couple on the next row of seats were obviously on a hiking/camping trip, and they took out their gear to get a comfortable sleep, minus the tent. There was a 24-hr subway and Tim Hortons at the airport. A hot chocolate was all I needed. One learns to be thankful for these little things. I stretched, backpack for a pillow, luggage for my legs and my shawl for a blanket. It was as comfortable as it can get when you have a spend a night at an airport terminal. I recollected with amusement the 12 hours I spent a night at Caracas airport many years back with just one lady for company, and to keep an eye on my luggage when I had to answer nature’s call. There was no airport hotel, nor a single store to buy something to eat until breakfast time. There were also many nights I have spent at Delhi airport coming from Kabul and invariably missing the connecting flight to Chennai (it was not worth the effort checking into a hotel for 3 hours). This was no comparison. Aisle 15 was going to my ‘adda’ for the next couple of hours. It was also here that I penned down this experience.

Travel Talk - Afghanistan

First of the Travel Talk series for the year. This presentation generated lot of interest, and many curious listeners turned up. There has not been any presentation on Afghanistan in the group in more than 3 years. Even then, the perspective has been very different. People got to see a very different side of Afghanistan through me, and I was very glad for the opportunity. Of course, preparing for it and rummaging through 1000s of pictures had me relive my 10 years all over again in 2 days. Its a journey I love revisiting every now and then...