We went to baby's scan, wow! Mrs M was lying on the bed and I took one look at her and burst into tears and threw myself into her arms. She looks amazing, she is so pretty and lovely with such a gentle warmth about her. She was hugging me and patting me in a way that said "Everything is all right". We will be looking after her very well, but giving gifts and money seems so inadequate after what she has done for us. We had a limited (interpreted) conversation. She said she feels well and has been well and happy through the pregnancy. I didn't dare to ask her if she would miss baby, or if she felt she had done the right thing by carrying a baby for us. I think she would just say yes to ease my concerns. We will get to speak more after baby's birth and I will ask her if it is okay to stay in touch with her. She will probably just say "Ah-che, Ah-che" .. "Fine fine". It at times like these I wish I had kept my Hindi up. Saying to her kela, ahm, doodh ... banana, mango, milk ... my three best words, would most likely bring her to think she has carried a baby for a complete nutter.
Baby is measuring behind still, for 39 weeks s/he is 2.9 kilos, but measuring 37 weeks. it's a little-one! Toby was born at 3 kilos at start of 37 weeks; so this bub will be around the same size as Toby, though born a bit later. We saw baby in 4D ... s/he looks very squishy and it was hard to get clear images of his/her fact, though we did get a few good images and baby is very pretty! This, of course, doesn't suggest boy or girl; as Toby was a pretty boy that looked like a girl (and still does when I cross dress him in all the pink outfits I bought for his arrival .. no.. no, that is a joke, though eh does like wearing my shoes).
So Monday is the day. Baby will be born in the afternoon and we will be a family of five. Wow! it just feels right, and good and we are so happy. I have been cocooned in my little bliss bubble, smiling like the proverbial village idiot.
We got home last night and had no decent food, only kela, ahm, doodh and some melon. We were also out of rupee so my plan was to go to reception and ask for them to order food and put it on our account. Reception was closed. The gate man sent me off in the direction of an ATM, walk to the end of the street, turn left and walk for five minutes. So in the dark of a sultry Delhi night, with all the locals out and about, and the usual melee on the streets, I turned left and set off to hunter gather for my family. I swear those auto-rickshaws nearly took me out several times, and it's not that I am difficult see, five foot ten blonde Westerner towering over everyone in the street. I was stalked mercilessly by the cycle rickshaws. "Ney, ney" ... I will walk. There is a large compassionate part of me that would feel terrible about being carted along by a skinny Indian half my size with only pedal power to shift my bulk.
Advetures with street food
I found the bank, withdrew some $ and went in search of food. Hmmm .. I have no idea where I am, much less know where there are shops, or anything that may sell anything remotely edible. next to the bank the most delicious smells emanated from a window in the wall. There was a flurry of activity outside with drivers ferrying small bags of food from the window in the wall to their cars for delivery. The place looked as dodgy as a sweatshop employing child laborers in the back streets of Old Delhi, but damn that food smelt good. A man, I assume to be the street food version of a Maitre D, handed me a menu.
"Is the food here good?" I inquired?
"Yes, m'am, very good," he replied with in lilting English and with the customary Indian head bobble.
Seriously, what did I expect him to say? "No m'am, it is crap, you are best to take your business elsewhere."
I sat on a rickety plastic chair, without my reading glasses and perused the menu. "...a professionally managed eatery run by an ex-five star Hotel Executive with over 30 years of experience in leading Indian and overseas hotels". So what's he doing running a kitchen from a window in a wall?
The food on offer made as much sense to me as my Hindi would to Mrs M. I decided I would take the risk. With images of the three of us hurling down the porcelain bowl for days on end dancing in my head, I decided that food from the window in the wall food would be better than no food at all.
I bought two chickens
When you order tandoori chicken full, it means you get the whole chicken cut into pieces, it does not mean it is a large serving, it is the whole chicken in a super large serve. I ordered only the items I was familiar with - tandoori chicken, full; butter chicken, full; garlic naan x 3; vegetable korma; rice.
Mr Maitre d's eyes were bulging when I ordered full, I am sure he thought the big greedy Westerner was going to eat all the food by herself. The total bill came to $17. The amount of food that came out of that window was staggering, enough to feed six adults with leftovers to throw to the kids.
It was the best Indian I have ever eaten; both in Australia and India. It was just amazing, I am so glad I took the risk ... and so far all good ... we shall see!