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The Delhi monkeys

 This story has nothing to do with real facts. Any resemblance to persons having existed was fortuitous.


Imagine a dozen Indians, who left their native land the time of a weekend in the French Alps. Past the first fears (such as missing a flight connection), the first culinary disappointment (not only French food has no taste but above all there is only red meat), here they are, paddling in Alpine rapids.


Is it necessary to say that none of them know how to swim but that only one has had the courage to say it, and moreover not to sign the swimming certificate? After this adventure and a tomato (this is the only thing they found edible in the picnic), they are asked to participate in accrobranche (“a sport in which you climb on trees, and the trees are bounded by ropes, bridges in wood, sometimes you have to get through barrels hanging in mid-air”)!

The organizer is clear: those who have never done it and those who are not in great physical shape, should go for the blue route. For the others there is the red and black (very difficult). I barely have the time to turn that all the Indian team is equipped with harnesses and ready to attack the... black route. But of course. When did you do sport for the last time? Never?? This morning?? Good. No whatsyourname, climbing coconut trees when you were seven does not count. So my friends, now we are going to do the blue track and there is no discussion. You crazy people!!


Good. I turn my back again and they went to the red track, minus two who have already abandoned - an obese one and a shrimp (for them it was the black route or nothing!). This time I don’t interfere, otherwise I'll really offend them. Let us not forget that we have a beautiful brochette of Indian males who are prohibited to show their muscles, jumping in the trees, by a white woman... I reluctantly abandon my blue track and follow them, you never know...


At the third tree, while I am already shit scared and exhausted, we are stopped by a traffic jam. Guess what happened? Nope, it is not my Indians. It is just a big fat South African blonde, who was rappelling down the tree. At the fourth tree same thing. But this time, I witness one Indian, then two, then three, then four, being carried towards land! They are abandoning! Fuck their ego, it’s my turn to have some fun:

  • "Hey guys, so you are giving up??Who told you you should have gone for the blue track huh?”
  • "We are tired, our arms are paining because of the rafting.”
  • "And why exactly do you think I told you to do the blue route?? You don’t think I am also tired?”
  • "So get down too.”
  • "Ah no, I never give up."

And boom this one is for you!!

So I go on with this bloody activity.


And a new Indian colleague has just join me on the red track. I did not know her, so I had not dared telling her to let the black track to the big guys. And yet... She is catastrophed because she had to abandon the black course after two failed attempts at climbing in the first tree. She goes on repeating the same thing until I get irritated and tell her that it’s okay, she had nothing to prove to anyone, we are here for fun.  And finally, while she is clearly exhausted, she chooses the "difficult" option on the last part of the route. She ends up crashing into a net suspended in the air (this was part of the option) of which she proves unable to get out (that is not part of the option). Poor little fly struggling in a net... Someone had to go to her rescue…


They don’t do things half way these Indians!

And needless to say that the French are crazy, they hardly eat anything (and in any case nothing bathing in a sauce full of fat) and they do tough outdoor sports!


What did you do this Sunday?

My life is fascinating...

I repaired my AC!
And that is something..

I do not like AC. It is polluting, it is expensive, it dries skin and throat. I drive my favorite Indian crazy by putting the timer on so that the AC stops from time to time. Well let me tell you that April in Delhi did it for me.

I no longer cross a room in the flat without the AC on.
It runs continuously and I am still hot.
I have not had a cold shower for weeks, and I do not put the heater on! I have even to put the cat's water in the fridge.

In these circumstances, when the AC of the living-room starts acting funny, meaning blowing hot air, I say NO. Not happening. Especially since I already had it repaired for the same problem last month!

Having lived cloistered in the office room and bed room for two weeks I finally decided to call a guy. I called JustDial who sent me several numbers. All of them were either busy or nobody spoke English. I called my electrician who promised to send someone. After calling him back at least four times I gave up. Then I remembered that I had stored the number of the guy who repaired the same AC last month. He also does not speak English. But with him, I did not let go. I called ten times on Sunday. He was late ...

He spent 3 hours repairing the AC, changing parts, filling gas and more. When he was finished, I did not have enough cash to pay him. So I asked him to wait, so that I could change, get out and withdraw money. Five minutes later I was out of my room. Just to make sure I checked the temperature of the air leaving the AC. Believe it or not but it was hot! I sat down.
He tried to explain something related to the compressor. Then he must have figured that he would spend less time going back return to work on the AC than explaining the problem to me! Because he spent the next half hour pouring ice and water in the machine ...

He then asked me if the car was mine? Yes, the BMW? Nope why? (Oh f… sh… don’t tell me he has damaged the neighbors’ car!). No, it was just filthy ... Phew!

The story is almost over.
I spent my Sunday from 11 to 18 getting my AC fixed.

So on Wednesday when it started again, I blew a fuse.
I harassed the guy. Worse than a spurned lover coupled with a drug addict in need. He turned off his two phones. Well I continued to call, more than twenty times, and he came, at 20:30.

Bottom line, it's just too hot. The AC is overheating. It has to be turned off for one hour when it overheats.

And thereupon my projector is also overheating.

I was making fun of Indians who spend overtime at the office just to be in the AC. Never again!!

08:00 Posted in My stories in India | Permalink | Comments (1) | Tags: india, delhi, heat, summer, ac |  Facebook | |


How to get nicely rid of a neighbour in 4 steps …

When I moved in here, I was full og good intentions … I really wanted to avoid the mistakes I did in Mumbai by not meeting the neighbours which I thought hated me but turned out to be nice when my cat forced me to talk to them. And eventually I did not go and say hi.

Well I did speak with the old woman of the ground floor (I had forgotten my key) but she was least interested, she only wanted to know how she could get in touch with my favorite Indian (they have common connections in the Supreme Court).

I also met my direct neighbour after two months of cohabitation. It was when a carnage had just happened: the stray cat which roams around in the building had smashed my trash bag and it was spread everywhere. I was cleaning (and not waiting for the caretaker of the building to clean as anyone else would have probably done in the building, after what I can see on my neighbours’ landings) when he came to “make me a suggestion”: “To avoid dirtying your landing, and mine, it would be better if you left the trash bag in the staircase. This way, the trash would not be lying in front of our flats when we have guests coming.”

Obviously I could help asking whether it would look better if guests had to jump over the trash in the staircase to reach our floor?? And to tell him that his “suggestion” was not solving the problem.

The following day I bought a very nice sorrel basket with a cover that I leave outside and if any trash of his ever lands on my landing, he will hear about me!!

But let us go back to the main topic … The day I received my stuff from Mumbai, I was quietly unpacking when I heard a conversation. I heard so well, it sounded like they were in my apartment! And they would not stop talking! I started thinking that they had nerve discussing like that right outside my door! And then, horror, I realized that they were in my neighbour’s flat!! The poor wooden door that separates us is of no use. Hell and damnation …


On top of that I was thinking of buying a sound system and I was not so comfortable inviting him to the movies, with the sound but not the images! However the home theatre proved useful to cover the chuckles of his chicks and his bollywood music (one or twice I stroke back with jubilation – my sound level is unbeatable!)…

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