Today I woke up late around 1:30pm, walked into the livingroom to where my computer is, and mentally left India (or Earth) and spent the next twelve hours on the internet or in the memory of my computer.
I took a break to go to the market within the complex. We have a market called "manos" - I don't know if that's a possessive noun or what. Where I live, most of the food markets are not much larger than convenience stores or liquor stores in the United States. They have aisles and sections like an American supermarket, but the aisles are only a third as long. The meat and freezer sections may not exist. The produce section occupies a corner of the store. The checkout aisles hold two people in line at a time.
Many of the markets, electronics stores, or clothing stores have multiple floors despite having, or perhaps due to having, so little space. I visited a Gym called Chisel India that had a "Cardiac" floor, an "Aerobic" floor, a "Free weights" floor, and the "Reception" floor. A small spiral staircase connected them.
The market in our apartment complex is in the basement. Weaving your way among the parked cars, you can find the open door in the basement wall. It isn't under my "B block" apartment building, it's under "M" block, so I have to walk by several apartment buildings, cross the park, and finally walk a ramp underground into the basement. The basement has concrete beams that are less than six feet above the ground, so I bend down as I approach the entrance.
The "Chemist/Druggist", which is normally open right beside the market, was closed today.
Ankit asked me to get him some bread, and I've learned the type he likes. It is different from the kind I like. I also needed to order a 20 liter bottle of drinking water to be delivered to our room. I took a few moments to locate the bread. A man was having a conversation with the cashier despite having already purchased his goods. I could wait behind the man, but I took position to the side of him and plopped my items on the counter top. The cashier calculated my total on a calculator. I say that I don't need a bag - or "cover" as it is sometimes called - for my bread.
All the super markets do something to avoid giving out plastic bags. In Manos, they have a sign that says "Please protect our environment and reuse covers". At the Total Mall supermarket, they charge Rs. 1 to use biodegradable plastic bags. At Foodworld, they use biodegradable plastic bags by default. You can tell when the bags are biodegradable, because they have a very organic aroma.
I then asked for an order of water, delivered to B-32, my room. "--- --- pay?", the man mumbled. I only heard the word "pay" in what he asked me, but I knew that he was asking whether I would pay for the water with him, or when it was delivered. I point up toward the buildings above our heads, and I say "Can I pay when it is delivered?", and he nods his head.
"Okay, thank you" I said on my way out. He lowered his head back to whatever it is he does when he's not attending to a customer, meaning "okay".
For some reason, I felt more confident, comfortable, and "at home" during this entire interaction. Instead of escaping from the conversation, I waited patiently for it to finish. On days like this, I feel like I am at home. I am not surrounded by any degree of poverty in this place. Most of the tenants are wealthy enough to function. It feels comfortable.
I returned to my apartment and continued work at the computer.
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