Thanks to PS for his enthusiastic ranting about
couchsurfing, I signed up a week ago and pretty much at once
received my first request to host - a Portuguese woman traveling in India for 2 months, and visiting Hyderabad, requested to be hosted for 2 nights.
With my flatmates away in Goa for the week, and the house to myself, how could I say no?
Filipa arrived Tuesday morning, and after a couple of hours of resting and talking and freshening up, I set her up and ready for a day of sight seeing. Armed with my trusty map of Hyderabad, a list of places to visit in the vicinity of the Charminar area, and vague but hopefully helpful instructions to survive in the city, I saw her board a local train heading to Nampally from Begumpet railway station and went back home to cater to my aching stomach and awaited the arrival of a friend visiting from Bombay. The Shammi himself.
I had some errands to run, and when I came back home, both my guests were home, sitting at the table, talking and chilling. I barged into the conversation - Filipa's day, some talk about yoga, and many, many travel stories.
Something that amused us a lot was Filipa's experience with the local folk. They would usually stop her and directly ask - where are you from?
When she said - Portugal, they'd just scratch their heads, and walk away, not knowing how to take the questioning further.
Some, however, would go on to ask
- Are you married?
- No.
- How old are you?
and then exclaim that she should hurry and get married.
She experimented once - saying
- Yes, I'm married.
- Do you have children?
- No.
- Then why did you get married anyway?
No words.
While talkingnit started lightening and a fabulous thunderstorm began. The electricity went off. We sat on my 5th storey balcony, with the nice view, and looked over the sky, exclaiming and excited with the fierce cracks lighting up the sky and thundering down at us.
This went on for a bit, and then Filipa softly said that this was by far the most thunder and lightening she had ever seen in her life.
It stopped in a couple of hours, and then we went out to dinner to my favourite take-my-guests-to restaurant - Angeethi. Filipa tried the risky jaljeera, and I picked us some great veg food. Shammi was trying to explain to Filipa who Amitabh Bachchan was, and translated the names of the many movie posters on the walls.
Roti, Kapda aur Makaan - food, clothing and shelter
Sharabi - Drunkard
Khoon Paseena - blood and sweat
and my favourite
Kaala Paththar - Black Stone.
Very filling dinner, and then Filipa exclaimed that the mouth freshener that most indian restaurants provide with the bill, saunf, is terrible. I added yes, it does taste like soap, and popped some in my mouth, while Filipa maintained the expression of how-can-you-eat-that-thing on her face.
Then home and called it a night, with an agreement to laze in late the next morning, and the plan of action being limited to visiting the Hussain Sagar.