India: This Old House

Each house or apartment building in India bears its own name. So instead of saying you're going to see Amanda or Billy, you'd say "I'm going to Melrose Place."

During our first week in India, we stayed at Justin's uncle's spacious and immaculate condo, named Shakuntal (pics 1 & 2), while his grandmother's house, Bungalow, was being painted. We enjoyed servants who cleaned/cooked/did our laundry/ate on the floor, AC, and Western accomodations i.e. shower and toilet. You laugh but it's not uncommon to pee in a porcelain hole in public or private bathrooms.

Then we moved into Bungalow (pics 3, 4, & 5) a few days ago, where four out of five bathrooms have toilets (I stay away from the one that does not). I've been dreaming, well more like getting nightmares, about slipping and falling right into such holes. There is no shower here so we fill up a big bucket with water and pour ourselves with a small pail to bathe. A far cry from my apartment in Tokyo where my toilet flushed automatically and came with a remove control and my shower could set itself to my preferred temperature as soon as I stepped foot in it (ha just kidding about the shower.)

While some homes are mansions with terra cotta or other Western architectural influences (pic 6), a majority of the homes in India have pretty modest standards. And driving by some of the slums, it's heartbreaking to imagine a family of eight living in what resembles a 10 x 10 prison cell with a bed and a makeshift kitchen where its residents pee and poo outside their doorsteps. My studio apartment in Manhattan is a palace compared to this - like living in a rat's butt hole. I wonder if these sad sad homes have names - perhaps Project-rakoot or Shack-kuntal? Or Ghetto-mahal. Slums-R-Us. Trailer-Pakh. I must be stopped!