Bombay Letters: Horse Races, Sailing, and a Reception

Tuesday May 5, 1998

Dear Family,

I hope you don’t mind reading my and/or my family’s future memoirs in installments.  Do you think they’ll ever amount to much?  Maybe my wife and I will jointly write our memoirs and call it, possibly, Starting From Scratch, or maybe, Now You See Us, Now You Don’t.  How about, Love Off The Cuff?

I don’t think either of us has told you about our day at the races a few weeks back.  One of the brass at work  couldn’t attend so he passed his invitation to us.  A large, local bank sponsored a trophy race and invited anybody who was anybody over to the track for a lovely outdoor buffet complete with sumptuous Indian food, plenty of libation, and a local band with an unbelievable Paul McCartney sound alike.  We were with some neighbors, a couple from Britain.  They are some of the nicest, most hospitable and gracious people we have met here.  They were our race mentors.  For example they told us what we should wear.  During the cooler season, fancy dresses and suit and tie are required garb for the track.  However when it gets so bloody hot, like now, polos and khakis for the gents, and designer shifts for the ladies are perfectly acceptable.

After we ate they showed us the ropes.  Before each race you watch the horses be led around a little circular enclosure (the paddock), first by stable boys alone, then with jockeys on their (the horses, not the stable boys) backs.  A screen lists the odds, plus serious gamblers refer to a booklet listing horses’ past records, predictions for this race, and even astrological information to help one make a good bet.  Here’s how our friends decide which to back: she chooses the first horse to look her way or one with a colorfully attired jockey.  He looks at the horse’s muscles, flanks, how it holds its head, how peppy the animal seems.  After choosing which one you think will win, you place your bet.  The lowest is ten rupees (about 25 cents).  Over the course of five races my wife and I gambled a whopping $1.75 though won nothing.  Our friend’s wife won the most using her method, and her biggest win was when she bet before she saw the horses.  After placing bets you go to your seats and watch the race which is sort of exciting, though neither of us have any desire to attend regularly.  After watching it live, you watch the replay on monitors so you can either be humiliated or gloat, according to our friend.  Then the cycle starts again.  Midway through the afternoon we had tea.   This part was hosted by the Americans (us).  Tea for four plus some veggie Indian niblet crumpet snacky sorts of things cost us the equivalent of $1.50.  Hurray for India!  Throughout that fun day we were pinching ourselves and asking, what are we doing here?

The other day my wife and our oldest son went sailing in the bay.  Call it Bombay Bay.  In a war, would anybody ever bomb Bombay bay?  One of my co workers  invited any two members of our family to go with a friend of his who is a member of the yacht club, so we chose our oldest son and my wife.   Here’s what she had to say about it:

The water is not clean in the bay (to say the least) but the air sure felt cleaner and it was fun seeing the city from a different perspective.  Sailing is very relaxing and after two hours in the sun we were ready for tea and sandwiches in the yacht club.  Quite a British-feeling afternoon.  At the yacht club restaurant (we were treated to lunch before going out to sail) there was a bell on each table.  When you wanted one of your three waiters to come and serve, you just rang the bell.  Quite handy.

A week or so ago, we went to a reception at the Israeli Consulate in honor of the 50th anniversary of Israel.  It was the most secure event we have ever attended.  We went through a metal detector and were required to show our invitations.  I was aware of the pervading presence of handsome, strong-looking, young men with little things in their ears that looked like hearing aids.  As usual for events like this, we met interesting people such as a consul from Poland, a nice couple from Chile, landed immigrants from Canada who have kids at the American School, some Indian business leaders, assorted Chinese, British, and Dutch diplomats, as well as some fellow Americans.  We also ate Israeli food and drank some of the ever present alcohol that flows so freely at events we attend.  We are amazed how much of the stuff is served and consumed.  It would be easy to overdo it, something we guard against.   Sometimes I just get tonic and lime, no gin, please.   We heard the national anthem of India and Israel as well as some (thankfully) short speeches, and went back to nibbling and sipping and meeting memorable people.

Here’s my wife’s take on the party:  The invitation came thanks to our oldest.  His best friend is the son of an Israeli official and he was invited to the reception, so then we were too.  Our son got to drive down there with his friend in the second car in their motorcade…bullet proof cars, lots of guards, red lights flashing so they wouldn’t have to stop at intersections.  One thing about him having a friend like that is that he always has a body guard.  It makes me feel better to know there is always an adult with them when they are out.  But then again, should I be concerned that my son is with a possible target?  We were proud to be at the reception and to point our son out to people we met…he looked GOOD in his sports coat and tie.

Speaking of sons, both of ours went to a rock concert to hear a group called Savage Garden.  The tickets cost 350 rupees, about eight dollars, each.  The police were there to make sure nobody committed any hugging or kissing.  No kidding.  We read an article in the paper the day before warning people that India’s standards for conduct would have to be followed or they would risk being thrown in jail.

We are in the process of taking pictures and videos.  Some year we may get them on the Web or in envelopes, or somewhere other people can see them.

Take Care.  We love you all.

About literarylee

I sling words for a living. Always have, always will. Some have been interesting and fun; most not. These days, I write the fun words early in the morning before the adults are up and make me eat my Cream of Wheat.
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