Patrolling Goa

Not much happening at the moment. Grey skies leaking rain, business slowing down, trying to take advantage of a slack period… but feeling a bit guilty about not doing much.

The bank has at last managed to open our new account, but the credit card business seems to have fallen again.

Three months ago we read in the papers that about twenty of the thirty patrol motorbikes belonging to the police force were off the road due to shortage of funds for repairing them. Today we read that the police have launched with much gusto a select band of police motorcycle cops who will operate 24/7. They will have thirty motorbikes, ten new and twenty repainted (no mention of repair, so they probably are still not working). Also there are only twelve cops on 8 hour shifts leaving some difficulty in covering the 24/7 idea.

It is in the paper and therefore not necessarily accurate, but the numbers indicate there may be some truth in the matter.

Goan Appointments

The title is accurate in so far as Goan and appointments can be put down in the written word and appear to make sense; in actuality they are near impossible to put together. We give you today’s example. Alison has only two appointments. A Mr da S at 10 am and a Mrs F at 10.30. Both appointments have been requested on the previous day, both are regular clients so know the score.
Mr da S does turn up; 90 minutes late. At 12 Mrs F phones to ask when her appointment is. Alison tells her she has missed it. Mrs. F then asks for another appointment; no apologies.
Changing tack on fixed time appointments, Alison says ‘Come this evening’. In Goan speak this means between 3 and 7.
Mrs F asks ‘What time?’.
Alison says ‘Just come when you are ready.’
Mrs F: ‘What time?’
A: ‘Anytime this evening’
Mrs F: ‘Shall I come now, doctor’
A: ‘Yes, please do’
Mrs F: ‘But doctor, it’s raining’
Alison wonders inwardly what she can do about this.
A: ‘Sorry, I can’t do anything about the rain. I suggest you come after monsoon’.
This little joke falls flat and the appointment making starts again until Alison correctly guesses the time the Goan client had in mind anyway. Then everyone is happy – until she didn’t turn up.

Refer to above.

Political interference gone mad

Goa’s in such good shape that the honourable leader of the opposition has had time to table and get through a motion banning the use of religious names eg Shiva, Jesus for bars and restaurants. A noble undertaking on the face of it, as the use of such names could be inappropriate for what some people here clearly regard as ‘dens of iniquity’.

The new law came into force on 29 June and guess what. It’s already in trouble. You see, Indian parents routinely name their offspring after religious figures. We personally know people called Shiva, Jesus, Maruti and Pavarti. And as for the many Peters, Pauls and Johns, not to mention more intriguing Goan-specific offerings eg Nazareth, Ignatius, Halleluia, Milagres (Miracle); well it’s easier to spot the people who don’t have religious-oriented names. No surprises also to find that Goans do name their bars and restaurants after members of their family – ‘yes, my mother really is called Shantadurga’.

‘We know the bar’s called Jesus – but that refers to Jesus Gonsalves my grandfather, not the son of man.’

What to do? as they say here. Still if anyone decides to fight the closure of their bar through the courts, they’ve got at least 10 more years of operation given the state of India’s judicial system.

Weather, wildlife and transport report

The monsoon is supposedly under way; you could have fooled us. Actually the temperature has dropped from very hot to just hot, the sun is generally hidden and today we had a light shower. All in all it’s a lot more comfortable than a week ago.
The bulbul youngsters have been spotted so both have survived and are beginning to look like bulbuls sporting their crests and showing a little colour.
Life’s pretty good, despite Hari Enfield starting to throw oil around and the mechanic won’t see him for until next week despite having no business; his excuse is that it’s raining (it isn’t) and he hasn’t got enough cover to work on bikeswhen its raining (he has). We guess he wants a few days off.

Patience of Job

Ignore this blog. It’s just another gripe and putting it out makes us feel better!
We are trying to open a bank account, with the bank we’ve been with for over four years. We are trying to replace Alison’s joint credit card, which was cancelled due to an e-error, same bank. We’ve lost count of the number of visits we’ve made to the bank over these two matters; now the bank people are even coming to our flat for meetings. The bank people don’t seem to know what paperwork they require and always request another form or letter to be completed following what we think is a conclusive meeting. Papers get sent to HO in Bombay. There a clerk spots a spelling error ie Alsion Bale instead of Alison Bale and the papers are returned. Today our clerk at this end suggested we start again and fill in a new application form. Alsion (sic) told him to forget the whole thing, it wasn’t worth the sweat. We’d get a credit card elsewhere. The clerk has said that he’ll come round to the flat for another meeting; he can’t be seen to be the one who has lost the business. This was followed by a phone call from the guy setting up the new account, telling us that Bombay HO have a query!
Ho hum. It’s really getting our goat.

Customer Service

India is not generally big on customer service, so today Alison had a pleasant surprise from Tata Sky our TV programme and advertisement supplier. Alison had decided to take advantage of Tata Sky’s 12 months for the cost of 10 offer by paying up front. She duly lodged Rs 5,000/-. This evening a Tata Sky representative called her and suggested that for the same money she should have the Mega pack, which is worth about another Rs 1,000. They could have taken the money and kept mum; we wouldn’t have been any the wiser.
Thanks Tata Sky! We’ll grumble a little less about the adverts and maybe even take up Tata Sky Plus so that we can record what we want to watch and FF through the ads.

Bodge jobs

Our front door has been giving problems. Specifically, it’s reached the point where if you dead lock it you can’t get the key out, so you have to leave the lock on the first setting.

Martin’s first solution was to leave the problem until we got locked out, then fix it (how Indian).

After some pursuasion from Alison, he elected to take the lock cover off today. No wonder we’ve had problems – it looked as if some insect had been building behind it. Out came cardboard, candlewax, and pieces of wood. The lock has probably never fitted properly since it was first installed. After one (or more) bodge jobs it’s a wonder it was still in place at all.

Martin replaced a couple of missing screws (probably never put in in the first place), reassembled the lock including cardboard etc just in case they have some hitherto unforeseen purpose, and it’s working fine. At the moment.

Cliffhanger

The Great Escape

Martin and Hari Enfield fell over a cliff. Not as dramatic as it sounds, as the ‘cliff’ was only a couple of metres high and the circumstances prevented damage to either. Our journey to work in Patnem had been completed and it was a case of parking the motorcycle at the edge of the track in as much shade as possible and out of the way of other track users. Hari Enfield is heavy and the track uneven to say the least. Having manouevred him into position, Martin dismounted catching his trouser leg on the foot peg, lost his balance and they both proceeded gently over the edge. Somehow they both remained upright, Hari’s frontwheel in the sand and Martin’s backside in a prickly shrub.

In India if any kind of accident happens a crowd will materialise out of thin air for better or, usually, worse. In this case for better as they were both soon hauled out of this undignified position and back up the ‘cliff’ where both wheels and feet could be planted firmly, or as firmly as possible, on the uneven ground.

Sorry! No picture of the accident available.

Party Frock

Party frock 2

Party Frock 2009

We thought you’d like the pictures of Alison in her new party frocks (salwar kameez) as it’s her birthday. Interesting that Tamaris and Samantha had purrchased birthday jewellry that exactly match both and this a few weeks before any decision about the new outfits had been taken. Good hit, girls!

In the background of one photo you will see a hideous block of flats with 15% of one wall painted. Again like many things in India it remains unfinished. We offer constant prayers to the gods that the owner(s) will get on with it but know that it certainly won’t be touched until October at the earliest.

We can only hazard a guess as to why the work was started with much gusto and then suddenly abandoned. It’s probably because the co-operative of owners and tenants voted only Rs x/- to the cost and this was as much labour and paint it would purchase.

Also in the background is the national tree, which comes into bloom as monsoon approaches.

Well! We’ve had a great day with a splendid party in honour of a friend’s sixtieth last night.to kick it off. Martin’s turn in six days, but we’ll not show you him in his party frock… can’t have tongues wagging.

More Tales from The Office (2)

(We wrote part one a week ago)

Martin has since spoken to the bank manager twice about the missing joint credit card; once face to face and once on the phone. The clerk involved has made another visit to the flat and requested another piece of paper and will make yet another visit to collect same when we have it. We haven’t had any of the phone calls yet. Nobody can speed the system up.

In India, it seems, the replacing of lost documents, credit cards, etc. is an even longer-winded and painful exercise than obtaining the original.

(Vision of armies of ‘lost document’ clerks trying to get copies of documents they themselves have lost from another army of ‘lost documents lost by lost-document clerks’ and so on ad infinitum.)