#InternInIndia Week 4: Blink and it’s gone.

Though I was determined last time I posted that I was going to keep my eyes firmly open, I gave in. I blinked and here I am, sat in an empty office on Tuesday morning of week 5 at 10 am, completely alone.

This week, mine and Bangalore’s whirlwind romance is still firmly in its honeymoon period. I’ve been wined and dined at some fancy hotels and restaurants, admired some views from penthouse bars like Sky Bar at UB City, been to a beautiful gabled colonial bungalow, complete with vintage cars and the remains of an orchard  in Whitefield and  eaten Goan food for the first time at brunch restaurant, Opus.  All  whilst listening to some amazing singers croon me into a false sense of security.

It’s Week 5! My time is quickly running out here, but I know when it comes to October 5th, there is no chance that I will be even remotely ready to leave.

I feel like me and India have so much more getting to know each other to do – but we’re going to be wrenched apart by Lufthansa airlines, a soggy sandwich air plane meal and only distant memories stirred by the fragrance of masala chai and romanticising rickshaw drivers.

So, yeah me and India are getting along swimmingly. We’ve become one of those annoying couples that pick up each others habits. I’m bobbing my head around when being asked a question, haggling prices and even dressing like a native.  I don’t even mind the cows blocking the traffic or the fact nobody can keep on time in this place. Instead it just makes me sigh and think “Ah, India,” blushing with big moon eyes.

The heavy early morning traffic is a romantic song serenading me awake, the mosquitoes whisper sweet nothings in my ear and the torrential down pours cool me down. Perhaps get back to me in a couple of weeks when me and this place have had our first row and I’m dancing to a completely different bhangra beat?

Now, after digressing, (That always seems to happen when I talk about this place, another annoying couple trait- talking about how great the other is, incessantly) the reason I’m sat alone in the office at 10 am is because of the Anniversary Issue of Indulge Magazine.

Everyone’s stress levels are high this week and with a team member down with Denge fever – a viral infection connected with mosquitoes, other intern Claire ill too and the issue deadline looming ever closer, things are tense. Keen to help out, I volunteered to come in as early as the rest of the employees this morning. 9 am. Compared to my usual leisurely stroll in at 11:30, this was going to prove hard.

It’s got to 8:45, my alarm went off a while  ago and of course I’m running late.  I’ve had to wait around for a breakfast voucher (Catholic Club’s weird rules), literally shovel down some fresh papaya and masala chai and jump into the first rick I saw without even haggling.

In my bleary state, I failed to put on my usual Indian accent when approaching the rick. Looking like a native Indian has its advantages and not getting ripped of by the ever-charming rick drivers of Bangalore is one of them. The only thing that usually gives me away is my accent, so this I heavily disguise in a veil of turned tongues and head bobbing.  This time though, Mr Rick caught the Britisher scent and decided to turn on Tour Guide Barbie mode.

After seeing the new and old government buildings, Cubbon Park and God know’s what else, I ditched the British subtle annoyed movements of checking my watch, tapping my foot and almost in tears, fully demanded that I was taken to The Indian Express Offices.

I arrived, sweaty, flustered, cursing myself and rickshaw drivers the world over only to discover the office to be eerily empty. Of course It would be! We’re in India.  9 am Indian Time is when I should have arrived!  I don’t mind too much though. It’s meant that I’ve had time to reflect a little on this week and plus, Jackie (The Editor)  walked in clearly impressed that I was beavering away on her Pride and Joy before her even.

Aside from this morning, I feel I’m finally getting the hang of this place. The Hinglish of The newspaper is becoming easier to get used to. Indian English, though excellent, have some turns of phrases completely alien to the way we speak back in the UK. I’m getting a lot of bylines, managed to write something for national paper The Sunday Express, and I’m still having a tonne of fun. Me and the other interns feel like we’ve been friends forever but before long we’ll all be returning to the our normal lives back in the UK. In fact, Sally, the first intern I met when I arrived has already left!

I’ve got some great  plans coming up, and have got a pile of stories and interviews to be getting on with too and whilst its all fun and very exciting, I just wish time would slow down just a little so I don’t just blink and it’s gone. This past week I’ve posed with vintage cars, reviewed a food festivals, got my hair done in the name of journalism and so much more.

Hopefully talk a lot sooner than a whole week gap.

Namaste for now!


Bangalore Metro
Amazing meal at Sarmakand
Me and Claire posing with one of Sulaiman Jamal’s vintage cars
Mmm cake.
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