Our last days in Gurgaon

Friday morning we spent supervising packing of our air shipment (crew of 6 to pack up our hotel, two men just stood around and watched). Joe was there for most of the experience as he was packing to catch an early afternoon flight to London.

Despite his presence – and after I’d downloaded all forms sent our way to approve shipment…and filled them out with Joe’s signature, the idiot in charge pulled out yet another form after Joe’d left for the airport. You should have seen his face when I told him I would sign since Joe was at the airport (wherein idiot asked if he could come back to sign it).

Sure enough, Joe was asked for his signature from London so the shipment could leave India. I will so not miss the processes here – making everything more complicated than it needs to be.

Kids and I picked up our passports with our new UK visas Friday evening; that was a 6 hour experience. Two hours to get there, 15 minutes to pick them up, 1 ½ hours to have dinner at Oh! Calcutta (very good, I might add), 2 ¼ hours to get back home. (No, it’s not that far; rush hour traffic starts around 6, lasts ‘til 10:30).

Saturday we hit a market in Delhi for a last hurrah, and Sunday we spent the afternoon at Miss Margie’s. She taught me how to make chicken masala, which was lots of fun and tasted incredibly good. Base for all masalas is the same: ginger, onion, garlic, tomatoes sautéed in a little oil, add meat, fish, shrimp chick peas, eggplant, kidney beans or whatever else you’re having, salt it, add cumin and masala spices, cook for necessary amount of time. Serve with rice.

Monday we tackled the bank…I so dreaded that one (closing the PITA Citibank account). Shock of all shocks, it only took 20 minutes, I had no trouble draining the account and left with paperwork for both of us to sign to end our Citibank India misery.

I did feel even more conspicuous than usual at the bank, which is always busy and for the few times I’ve been forced to go inside, we’re generally been the entertainment for everyone in line, along with everyone who works there.

This day was no different; Ava was riding the line ropes like a horse, Claire was sitting on the floor reading (not exactly the norm at the bank) and I was being given a few thousand dollars worth of rupees.

These were stuffed into a brown paper bag and of course the entire place knew I was sashaying out with a huge wad of cash. I promptly turned it over for our airplane tickets – the guy who processed them wanted me to fork over my credit card so he could take it to Delhi (a 45-minute trip one way) and run it, then bring it back. I don’t think so…

Cashing it up with him was a better solution than turning the dough over to pounds in India, where I was told there are limits on how much can be changed over, you have to have documentation for the money, etc. (No, the bank couldn’t give me English currency; I asked.) On the UK side, the rate for rupees isn’t good, plus not many places convert them.

Monday evening I spent getting a hair cut, picking up the last of my tailored items and getting pampered as spa mentioned above. Not a bad way to end the India adventure!