Marketplace in my neighborhood |
After a few months of living here I still double take women wearing Sari’s on the back of motorbikes, cows meandering about the streets, and a chaotic energy that I've become a part of.
A few days ago I was taking with my friend Uzma. She was headed to Indiranagar, and I asked where that was. “Right next to Koramangala” she said. I didn't know where either neighborhood was and told myself that I needed to start exploring.
And today was the day I would start because I was jonesing for a western-styled breakfast. It’s those little things you take for granted when traveling abroad. In the city (NYC) I’d eat omelettes at least every other day; I haven’t had one since arriving here in July.
previously I had gone to an online expat forum called IndiaMike, and when I searched for western-styled breakfast a thread popped right up with a listing of four places.
Next I punched the address into my Google Maps, then hit the Navigator button (what a great tool). The little voice in my ear -- with my satellite tracking enabled -- directed me right to the front door.
Koshey’s is not a pretty place. It’s old and worn, yet reflects an era gone by. I ordered a bacon-cheese omelette, toast (which was like white bread but thick like a french toast), fresh-squeezed orange juice, a liter of bottled water, and a coffee.
Koshey's |
On the ride to a from there, the neighborhoods changed drastically; some neighborhoods were dirty, dusty and obviously low-income, while other areas were more upscale. Nevertheless, those cows were everywhere, and at times I felt like I was traveling through something akin to the old wild west, though I can’t quite describe why.
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