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A cunning trick…

A couple of months after my arrival in India, I had to take a cab from Mumbai airport to Pune. I was a bit wary of rip-offs but I still got into a taxi that agreed to take me to Pune for 1 500 rupees (an almost decent price).

The same taxi dropped me right outside the airport premises, to another taxi. In a dark lane. This story did not sound too good.

The driver asked me to give him the money and I handled 3 notes of 500 rupees to him. He told me I had done a mistake and given 100 rs notes. Since these notes are very similar and it was very dark, I took 2 notes back and gave 2 new notes of 500.

And he was bald enough to tell me I had done the same mistake again!! I understood he had f… me and turned furious. He did not insist and took me safely to Pune.

Raaaaaaaaaa! That was my first and so far only big rip-off and it taught me to be cautious (not too expensive a lesson at the end…) 



Me white girl, me whore

After almost 4 years in India, Indian guys can still disappoint me…

You are nice, friendly and they think they can bang you.

You tell them you have a boyfriend and they think it doesn’t matter, they can still bang you (she is white right??)…


I happened to meet an Indian guy in an “expat” event (the only one I ever went to) and he seemed pretty descent – educated, finance job and just nice. And I thought it could do no harm to my (sleeping) social life to get some friends…


I then was honestly too busy to meet him and also got pissed off when he started calling me “darling” or “love” in his texts. He told me I could only delete the texts if I didn’t want trouble with my boyfriend. Well, asshole, I don’t hide anything to him…


But, then, a month later, I got a little soft and agreed for coffee. I changed before and put my un-sexiest clothes on. It rapidly turned into a nightmare, with the guy getting onto all the clichés about Europeans he could think of, like:

-          We are all rich enough to travel in India,

-          We work less hours, earn loads of money,

-          We don’t care about our parents (we don't even love them),

-          We all love India and want to give up our nationalities – I had never heard that one before,

-          We all get divorced 3-4 times.


Of course I forgot the most important of all: “all white girls are whores”.

No need of words, he just acted: hugged me when we said bye, kissed me in the neck and pressed his penis on my thigh.

SICK. They make me sick.


Sometimes it requires a lot of efforts to make your house comfy in India

When I want something, I just need to get it. And it is getting worse as the years go by… My dad can testify!!

The last obsession I suffered from was a bean bag, or rather a bean mattress. Ok, you can get it in India, but I wanted a good one. The particular brand I wanted was not exporting to India (of course) so I bought it in France, having in mind to carry it back with me during a trip to France…


And see what came home…



The weight was decent (10 kgs) but the dimensions not so… 60 x 60 x 110 cms… Sure Air France would charge me 200€ for the same and I don’t like giving Air France money for no reason…

Then I got a “brilliant” idea: I would transfer the “beans” in plastic bags. But plastic bags in card boxes and seal card boxes together (to have the right number of pieces of luggage)!! Well, not an easy task…


But it worked!!


The story is not quite over as when the Indian officers as the customs saw 3 huge card boxes, they wanted to check it. What they saw at the X-ray (polystyrene balls) left them quite puzzled… I was not too keen on opening the cartons so I tried to explain what was inside but they would not let go. So I told them “listen I’m hot, sick, tired, so just let me go ok?”. They asked me whether I was Indian (no) and if I spoke Hindi (yes – a little lie can not harm in this situation). And they let me go!!


Putting the beans back in the bag was a bit of pain as well, but totally worth it!!