I really think my Mom is God in disguise... a slightly irritating one sometimes.

THERE'S AUBERGINE IN MY SANDWICH... AND IT STILL TASTES GOOD!
It feels nice to walk into a restaurant not quite expecting a gastronomical delight and yet be rewarded by one. I walked into Bear Rock Cafe (there's a bear pugmark with the name) at Cary, North Carolina with no expectations..What does Bear Rock signify anyway -- I don't know. The name was not remotely interesting -- I am the gullible one who chooses restaurants going by the way the name sounds if the interiors and menu are not clearly visible from the outside. But anyway I stepped into this Cafe and at first glance it looked a wooden cabin. Then I noticed the antelope horn ceiling lamps, animal skin carpets (fake perhaps), fireplaces with hunting traps framed above, paintings of hunters and hunting expeditions and if I am not mistaken there were some hunting rifles framed on the walls too... :-( Not such an appetising thought for me when I eat but well I was hungry!
But surprise surprise!! The menu had a very intriguing vegetarian sandwich section and I felt so compelled to try it. The sandwiches they had on offer were like none I've ever had. The one I had -- just imagine -- had sliced aubergines and bottle gourd -- which tasted like it had been lightly fried in some light oil and probably pepper, along with the cucumber and tomatoes and basil and fennel. I thought that was pretty cool... I mean I have never had a sandwich with AUBERGINES in them! And a considerable amount, that too. Never thought of the possibility, did ya?
To top it, the food is all organic and I do think the ingredients and food really tasted fresher than most places I have eaten at... The soups which come along with sandwiches, are divine.....I still can't get over the taste and smell -- cheese and pumpkin and sundried tomatoes -- what a combo!
I still don't get why they had to have a restaurant positioned as an organic food place but do up the place like a hunter's den... I don't get the connection. But who cares...

My first visit to the Indian Embassy.. We have a document which needs just a stamp from the Indian Embassy. Not a big deal, me thinks.
The Embassy landline says that the office is open till 6 pm, so at about 1 pm, we find our way to this gorgeous Victorian structure somewhere in the heart of DC...
We run into an absolutely clueless woman at the front desk in a huuuge hall, who is...well, just sitting there.
She informs us that there is another office that attests documents. I shall reserve my comments on the way she was dressed or her level of spoken English -- no matter how important it is when you are at the front desk of an organisation supposed to be the face of the nation to the world -- because I don't want to think and sound like pseudo-elitist.
Behind me, a 50s something man joins the queue -- he's not a desi. "Can you tell me who can help me with information on importing cotton from India?" he asks her. "No sir... I don't know," was the polite but dumb reply... Aren't you supposed to say something more meaningful if you are sitting there to answer questions?
I busy myself looking at my shoes. But anyway, we ask her if the other office is at walkable distance.
Depends on your speed.. Laughs at her own joke.
Then as an afterthought she adds : It closes at 12.30 pm actually.
But your website does not mention the timing, we exclaim.
Of course it must have been on the website.
But where?
It must be somewhere..
Can you show us so that the next time we can check and come?
I don't know where, but it has to be there, no?

We try to make sense of it and then I feel like using their loo. N, on account of habit continues the conversation (which I can overhear from the loo)

Hmmm....This is a nice building (I notice he uses the word building and not structure on purpose). So how long have you been here?
Lady gets defensive suddenly. "A looong time"
Oh so you are a resident maybe?
Yes yes.. I have been here a very long time.. I live here
Oh how long? I have been here 4 years...But I am on a work visa of course...
A long time
Ok, how long (I can sense that he is grinning)
"Two years!"
She didn't actually think we would have boo-booed her if she didn't live in DC for a long time, did she?
Anyway. With new hope we walk to the other office. It is closed officially, like lady no 1 had told us. But the door is open. So as advised, we step in. There is one lady behind the counter, who's just gotten up from her seat. Encouraged by the insistence of the lady no 1, we walk up to the counter.
Hello?
A look of complete and unbridled shock. "Who let you in?"
M'am the door was open and we just wanted to enquire if you could tell us what to do..The lady at the main office told us we could come here and ask you....
But how could you enter?
M'am the door was open... Actually, we needed to know if we can get this document stamped because we are going to be out of state from tomorrow so..
HOW COULD YOU ENTER?
M'am the door was open and we knocked... And we were told to just ask if..
NO!!...a pause... NO, that is not possible! She is flailing her arms around in complete and unexplained disbelief.
But we did enter through the open door m'am... "Do you really think we broke the door open..."(that's me mumbling) Now just a question, can you tell us if this can be stamp...
"No, no!! We are not here to do anything of this sort, she splutters.
Errrrrrr... but just a question m...
HOW CAN you open the door like that?? It is supposed to be locked and noone can open it...(Err, maybe you should lock the door from inside then?)
Walks out of her glass cabin and starts charging on us...Please get out...please, please!
The door in question, incidentally, is right opposite her counter, at a distance of 6-7 feet. Wonder how she never noticed it was open... Err, anyway after that lovely conversation that hinged only on the topic of The Door, I cannot help laughing aloud. Of course we are no doormats so we start turning away.. But lady no 2 is not finished yet so she emits a final shriek, "Please get out of that door"...
[a note: this did happen!]

I might be wrong in thinking so -- probably it has to do with being miles away from home -- this somehow felt worse than my brushes with the Clerk Mentality back home.. I had a question : Is such behaviour reserved only for Indians... how do they treat the firangs? I did ask around later and was dismayed to learn that they are actually more polite to non-Indians, especially the whites..And everyone who told me that had - stories of their own to share.. perhaps it calls for another post. And then there are a few contrary stories too... Some of us may still not have shaken off the British Raj hangover but now that I have vented, I prefer to seek comfort in knowing that a significant population, me included of course, has indeed gotten over it...