(This is a continuation to my previous post "In A Stranger's Land: Part I")
Kitchen Conversations
The hostel common kitchen was one of my fav. spots in the hostel, other than my room of course. May be that's why I had taken to cooking so much. Apart from my new found fascination for cooking, it was the anticipation of meeting someone new that dragged me to the kitchen everyday.
Once while I was cooking, I met these 3 guys- Tim, Ruslam (Rus, as he said his friends called him) and 'the 3rd guy' (i'm very bad at remembering names). They were so friendly! We talked about Almaty, India, Bollywood...Rus and Tim sang 'I am a disco dancer' for me and asked me when was I cooking an Indian meal for them (I never got a chance to do that, though I had promised). Rus was particularly interested in knowing about Mumbai as he had read 'Shantaram' (I hope he didn't have the Shantaram's version of Mumbai in his head- full of filth and crime). After that night's kitchen conversation, I hadn't met Rus again. But then once, a week before I was leaving for India, I saw him walking on the street. He said he was leaving the hotel and looking for a flat. He said perhaps one day he'd come to Mumbai "the Shantaram way" and moved his head from side to side like a Bharatnatyam dancer while saying that. :p
I kept bumping into Tim quite often. He was Russian and looked like one of the Backstreet Boys. He always wore beach shorts with nothing on top and on rare occasions, when he thought it was too cold to go around bare chested, he teamed it with a beach shirt. Whenever the matrons had something to tell me, they would call him to translate, as the matrons didn't know English. My replies would invariably be "ya ya ya" cuz, how on earth can you concentrate on the conversation when a Backstreet Boy with hazelnut eyes is staring right at you and talking!! :p
There was this guy in the hostel who would always greet me. But I could never recognize him. May be it was 'the 3rd guy'. May be with his name, I had also forgotten his face. :p All I knew was that he was Russian and good looking. It is very easy to tell the Russians from the Kazakhs. The Kazakhs have those 'Chinee eyes'.
Our common kitchen also had an ironing table, opposite the kitchen slab. The men would come there, take off their shirts, iron it, wear it back on and be off to the college. The short strip tease made up for my morning dose of entertainment. :P Thankfully, the women didn't take short cuts at ironing. So once, this guy came to the ironing table while I was cooking. We had the usual conversation- "Oh, so you are from India?" "How do you like Almaty?". Then he asked me if I'd liked to come to his room (No. 16- I still remember that) and stripped off his shirt to iron it. I saw the tattoo on his chest and thought how well timed his offer and his stripping was. But I wasn't going to change my mind looking at his tattoo and politely said I was busy that night. Then he asked me if I understood Russian, and I replied "chut chut", which means 'little little' in Russian. And thought how well timed even my reply was. Though he didn't get the irony in that line. :p
The Park
Almaty is known for its scenic views and its landscape gardens. Surrounded by 5 majestic mountains, Almaty sat at its lap. It is bountifully blessed with God's best gift to the humankind- Nature. Almaty is so green that if a cartographer would accurately color code its street view map, it'd be entirely painted emerald.
The park right next to my hostel street was my fav. hangout spot there. I'd spend most of lunch hours basking in the sun and taking in the breeze of that park. It had this magnificent canal flowing right in middle of the park, stretching for kilometers. When the sparkling waters reflected the hues of the sunrise and sunset, I'd be compelled to pause my thoughts and my movements, and just silently take in the beauty.
The streets everywhere were pedestrian friendly, thanks to proper traffic rules and street planning. The pavements and the main roads there are separated by a row of shrubs and trees, making it convenient for pedestrians to walk and cycle along the lane carefree. At places where there are no pedestrian crossings, the zebra markings work just as efficient. If a pedestrian even steps on the zebra crossing, the vehicles are compelled to wait for them to cross. The mortality rate due to road mishaps would've dipped in India if only we added sense in city planning.
One evening, Samal, her friend and I went out for a stroll in the park. Our conversation took many directions as wound through the green lanes, chocolate ice cream dripping over our fingers.
"So you watch Bollywood! Ahh...tell me about your favs!", I mused.
"Oh..who's that guy..Shah Rukh Khan. So handsome! But we all are huge fans of Mithun..Mithun Chakroborty..what was that song...", Samal tried recollecting.
And just then her friend started singing and dancing, "Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi, Aja aja aja....Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi, Aja aja aja.."
I couldn't contain my joy at seeing an overseas lady doing a Hindi Bollywood item, complete with the actual steps. Samal and I joined in to her groove..."Aja re mere saath, O kaali kaali raat....Jimmi...Ajaa....Jimmi..O Ajaa" We laughed and sang all the way...
The world was getting smaller for me. I was discovering that people are all the same in their own unique way, no matter which part of the world you go. The stranger's land was beginning to feel like my own... :)
Kitchen Conversations
The hostel common kitchen was one of my fav. spots in the hostel, other than my room of course. May be that's why I had taken to cooking so much. Apart from my new found fascination for cooking, it was the anticipation of meeting someone new that dragged me to the kitchen everyday.
Once while I was cooking, I met these 3 guys- Tim, Ruslam (Rus, as he said his friends called him) and 'the 3rd guy' (i'm very bad at remembering names). They were so friendly! We talked about Almaty, India, Bollywood...Rus and Tim sang 'I am a disco dancer' for me and asked me when was I cooking an Indian meal for them (I never got a chance to do that, though I had promised). Rus was particularly interested in knowing about Mumbai as he had read 'Shantaram' (I hope he didn't have the Shantaram's version of Mumbai in his head- full of filth and crime). After that night's kitchen conversation, I hadn't met Rus again. But then once, a week before I was leaving for India, I saw him walking on the street. He said he was leaving the hotel and looking for a flat. He said perhaps one day he'd come to Mumbai "the Shantaram way" and moved his head from side to side like a Bharatnatyam dancer while saying that. :p
I kept bumping into Tim quite often. He was Russian and looked like one of the Backstreet Boys. He always wore beach shorts with nothing on top and on rare occasions, when he thought it was too cold to go around bare chested, he teamed it with a beach shirt. Whenever the matrons had something to tell me, they would call him to translate, as the matrons didn't know English. My replies would invariably be "ya ya ya" cuz, how on earth can you concentrate on the conversation when a Backstreet Boy with hazelnut eyes is staring right at you and talking!! :p
There was this guy in the hostel who would always greet me. But I could never recognize him. May be it was 'the 3rd guy'. May be with his name, I had also forgotten his face. :p All I knew was that he was Russian and good looking. It is very easy to tell the Russians from the Kazakhs. The Kazakhs have those 'Chinee eyes'.
Our common kitchen also had an ironing table, opposite the kitchen slab. The men would come there, take off their shirts, iron it, wear it back on and be off to the college. The short strip tease made up for my morning dose of entertainment. :P Thankfully, the women didn't take short cuts at ironing. So once, this guy came to the ironing table while I was cooking. We had the usual conversation- "Oh, so you are from India?" "How do you like Almaty?". Then he asked me if I'd liked to come to his room (No. 16- I still remember that) and stripped off his shirt to iron it. I saw the tattoo on his chest and thought how well timed his offer and his stripping was. But I wasn't going to change my mind looking at his tattoo and politely said I was busy that night. Then he asked me if I understood Russian, and I replied "chut chut", which means 'little little' in Russian. And thought how well timed even my reply was. Though he didn't get the irony in that line. :p
The Park
Almaty is known for its scenic views and its landscape gardens. Surrounded by 5 majestic mountains, Almaty sat at its lap. It is bountifully blessed with God's best gift to the humankind- Nature. Almaty is so green that if a cartographer would accurately color code its street view map, it'd be entirely painted emerald.
The park right next to my hostel street was my fav. hangout spot there. I'd spend most of lunch hours basking in the sun and taking in the breeze of that park. It had this magnificent canal flowing right in middle of the park, stretching for kilometers. When the sparkling waters reflected the hues of the sunrise and sunset, I'd be compelled to pause my thoughts and my movements, and just silently take in the beauty.
The streets everywhere were pedestrian friendly, thanks to proper traffic rules and street planning. The pavements and the main roads there are separated by a row of shrubs and trees, making it convenient for pedestrians to walk and cycle along the lane carefree. At places where there are no pedestrian crossings, the zebra markings work just as efficient. If a pedestrian even steps on the zebra crossing, the vehicles are compelled to wait for them to cross. The mortality rate due to road mishaps would've dipped in India if only we added sense in city planning.
One evening, Samal, her friend and I went out for a stroll in the park. Our conversation took many directions as wound through the green lanes, chocolate ice cream dripping over our fingers.
"So you watch Bollywood! Ahh...tell me about your favs!", I mused.
"Oh..who's that guy..Shah Rukh Khan. So handsome! But we all are huge fans of Mithun..Mithun Chakroborty..what was that song...", Samal tried recollecting.
And just then her friend started singing and dancing, "Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi, Aja aja aja....Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi, Aja aja aja.."
I couldn't contain my joy at seeing an overseas lady doing a Hindi Bollywood item, complete with the actual steps. Samal and I joined in to her groove..."Aja re mere saath, O kaali kaali raat....Jimmi...Ajaa....Jimmi..O Ajaa" We laughed and sang all the way...
The world was getting smaller for me. I was discovering that people are all the same in their own unique way, no matter which part of the world you go. The stranger's land was beginning to feel like my own... :)
