Phil Works Too Much. Pam Goes Native.

The problem I can see ahead is that Adobe now has 24 hour access to Phil. He works at the office in Noida, a 45 minute choking taxi ride away from our hotel, while his California colleagues are sleeping. When he returns after being pulled at all day, the office in California is up and running and grabbing at him all night. He worked through the night twice this week.
I’ve never shopped with such purpose and urgency in my life. It wasn’t that I was so eager to leave rupees all over Delhi but it was getting harder and harder to scrub the judgmental stares off me at the end of the day.

I like attention as much as, okay…probably more, than most, but I haven’t felt this creepy brand of attention since I was a 16 year old hitchhiker with ass length hair and cut-offs. I get the feeling that everything Indian men know about Western women was learned from the Girls Gone Wild videos.

Yesterday when I stepped outside in my new modest, though totally bitchin’ Indian clothing, the ogling stopped. A couple of men at the market told me I looked nice in Indian clothes, but kept their eyes down when they said it – like they we’re talking to their mother or their sister.

~ Pam

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