For Najwa’s spring break, we decided to use the week to get out of the country. And we’re not talking about a hop down to an island off the coast of America. Nduku is always thinking big for these trips so she wanted to go somewhere on the other side of the planet. So, we chose India.
Most people’s itinerary when going to India would be to visit the Taj Mahal, Mumbai, New Delhi, something up north, maybe Goa, maybe Kolkata. But I was adamant that if we’re going to go to the subcontinent, we have to go see my friends in the south. So off to Chennai we went.
Ironically, the hotel Nduku chose is right around the corner from my company’s Chennai office. And that area is very green, very clean, and the hotel was pretty plush.







Naturally, our (probably more mine than Nduku’s) concern with traveling to India would be the food. India’s have a tendency to like their food hot. As in spicy. As in the type of food you have to sign a waiver to eat in America. The Raintree Hotel, fortunately, had a more India-inspired yet international cuisine. Still a bit weird for my taste, but relieved Najwa enjoyed her food. Nduku loved it.

One thing we learned is that when you say “not spicy” in India, that translates to not as spicy. Najwa isn’t the most daring with spicy foods. If it’s too spicy, or something she doesn’t like, she’ll simply say she’s not hungry and not eat. Instead, we were told that you have to say no spices. I’m sure to the waitstaff it sounded like saying no cheese on a pizza, but they grew up on these ingredients, flavors and spiciness. They haven’t had to deal with a kid who’s either always cranky because she’s always hungry or a kid who’s acting like her mouth is on fire.

We didn’t do much that first day. Jet lag. Mostly shopping on T Nagar. Nduku wanted a sari.

When we travel, I prefer to go native. Maybe not all the way with the food, but I’m always down for a rickshaw ride. Because of the exchange rate, though we were told we were paying too much, it cost virtually nothing. Barely 75 cents to cross town!
Another time we hailed an Uber. Expecting to have to pay cash, the driver even told us that it was already paid for through the app. If it was me, I’d have taken the cash, you know, kind of like an ignorant foreigner fee. But even in an air conditioned car, it cost almost nothing.
Later in the evening, we went out to a place called Gastronomer with some friends. For me, the highlight of the trip was finally meeting face-to-face with our friends in India.



As it was getting late and everyone started to head home, Nick, Ira and I went out for drinks. I mean, if all I did every day in India was hang out with these two, all would be good in the world.
They took me to a club later even later in the night. I had a ball. I can’t dance I spent most of the night on the dance floor. There is a cultural difference though. See, I usually dance by myself. Not only because I have a wife and don’t need to be rubbing against anyone, but as I said, I can’t really dance.
But, never have I had some dudes roll up on me to dance. Not the rubbing against each other kind, but the way they do it in India. I’d do something and they’d mimic it. Then the next person. And the next person. It was still weird for me to be dancing with a bunch of dudes, but when in India, do as the Indians do.
The funny part for me, though, was when they were doing whatever I was doing and whatever I was doing wasn’t even intentional. And they made it look so damn cool!

I’m going to go back to India again one day. Scheming to get my work to send me there next spring. If I do some sightseeing or visit new places, that’ll be cool, but if all I do is hang out with Ira and Nick, that would be even better.

