Olympics in India

Friday night's Olympics opening ceremony happened to coincide with a bout of food poisoning -- or whatever the hell makes you nauseous for 48 hours straight without actually throwing up. I haven't missed an opening ceremony since 1992 -- e.g. before I was conscious of the "Olympics" -- so I tried my best to stay awake, but at 12:30 a.m. nothing remotely opening ceremony-esque was showing up on the live feed, so I left my crowd of multicultural comrades in the living room and schlepped to bed. Around 5 a.m, my roommate opened the bedroom door, plopped down on his floor mattress and fell asleep. Apparently blinding hallway light and unmistakable party sounds from the living room don't bother sleeping East Africans, but I -- with my high-and-mighty bed frame and Western standards -- was immediately jarred awake.

This whole post might be a passive-aggressive jab at my roommate, were it not for the fact that his eccentric sleeping habits allowed me to hear the unmistakable sounds of the Olympic opening ceremony from the living room. Thanks, bro!

So, with a twinkle in my eye and the spirit of the Games in my heart, I skipped down the hallway and found a pack of roommates, friends and associates watching the London march of athletes on a moderately-sized computer screen. I squeezed in between one roommate from Peru and another associate from Egypt on the couch, and commenced the gossiping and screen-shouting.

Watching the opening ceremony certainly made me proud to be American, particularly when comparing team strengths and weaknesses with my internationally diverse array of  comrades. "Oh, how many athletes does Serbia have this year? 115? Ya, America has 529, soooo....y'knowwwww..."

Really though, I was pretty lucky to be able to watch an Olympics ceremony with an incredibly diverse crew. Hearing other country's takes on the Games was interesting to say the least. Among other conclusions, I've deduced that pretty much the only time anyone in the world watches swimming is during the Olympics.

Now if I can just get my roommates to watch some Team USA basketball with me, I can really get an ego boost...

Go forth, grand athletes! Make America proud!

Tha Swiss Connection

On my flight to Mumbai, I had a two hour layover in Switzerland. They were two of the cleanest, most pleasant hours of my life. I indulged in some deliciously nutty authentic Swiss chocolate from an airport vendor, explored the sleek, somewhat Euro-hipster designed airport -- bathroom doors were constructed of polished metal -- and admired the view of the mountains from the airport bay windows. 

The flight over to Mumbai on Swiss Air was equally delightful -- the vegetarian pizza they served was top-notch, and even the seats in the economy-section were roomy and comfortable. 

So landing in Mumbai and stepping off the squeaky-clean Swiss Air jet into a wave of heat and curry smell was not the most desirable contrast.

Above: If I could live on that jet, I would.

Since my all-too-short time in Europe, I have vowed to go back there as soon as feasibly possible and plan a good ol' fashioned EuroTrip. For me, this is actually a fairly big step forward: before this year, I was truthfully baffled whenever someone listed "traveling" as one of their favorite hobbies. But it's amazing what two hours near the Swiss Alps can do to a person's psyche. 

However, before I experience Europe I still have pretty much every landmark in Mumbai alone to visit. Yeah, this past month hasn't quite brought me outside of a ten-mile radius. 

In the meantime, I've been watching this video to get me pumped up about traveling in general. WE NO SPEAK HINDI!