What happens in Bangalore....

What happens in Bangalore...

...stays in Bangalore, it seems! It’s been almost a month since I flew off to India for a weekend to attend the Bangalore Literature Festival. And much water has flowed under the bridge (both before and after—both literally and figuratively) without being captured in this blog and sent out to its forgiving and patient readers (that’s you, if you’re still paying attention). I’ve prepared for writing this blog by putting on my salwar kameez and settling in with a cup of coffee that has a wee bit of “flavouring.” Well deserved rest after getting up at 4 AM for dragon boating and then jumping on my bike for a 27 k ride with Glenn. Just another beautiful November day in Doha. Temperatures in the low to mid-20s, and, fingers crossed, no rain in sight.

So let me start with the literal deluge that took Qatar (and Glenn and me) by surprise in mid and late October this year. On one weekend day (I believe it was October 18) Qatar received a year’s worth of rain! Glenn and I had gone to the mall for our weekly grocery shopping when the storm struck. Having experienced previously in April one sudden and violent downpour that stopped almost as soon as it started, we decided to wait things out while having a coffee. No big deal, we thought. We waited, and we waited... You get the picture. The mall roof was being pummelled and we could hear constant rumblings of thunder. 2 hours passed. We did our shopping. We called an Uber. We waited about an hour before one showed up (according to the woman waiting next to us, within minutes of my initial call to Uber, the company stopped sending out cars at all).

A little bit of rain, you say? Sounds refreshing in the desert, doesn’t it?

That’s what we thought at first. Until the Uber driver had to try three different routes to get us home (approximately 2 kilometres) because of flooded roundabouts and backed up traffic. We were so relieved to get home....to find that our kitchen floor was completely flooded. Took care of that. Also the electrical receptacle that had filled with water and kept flipping the circuit on the water cooler (advice from our superintendent, just let it dry out for 24 hours and plug it back in). We were lucky—someone on my dragon boating team posted a photo of his car floating in an underground garage. Qatar a flat, desert country: the water simply has nowhere to go. So it pours into whatever crack it can find.

I flew to Bangalore the following weekend so missed the next storm, but there has been at least one other since I got back. The Gulf Region is receiving unprecedented amounts of rain. Within days of booking our trip to Jordan (the country, not the daughter) for Christmas, Petra flooded—they had to evacuate 4000 tourists. Not my fault. Sorry anyway. (Hey, I’m Canadian.)

So that’s the weather update. I can honestly say, though, that the storms haven’t kept us from enjoying winter in Doha. I’m preparing for a dragon boat race on December 7 so am out at the beach 3 days a week (2 mornings and one early evening). Whenever we get a chance, Glenn and I go out for a walk or get on our bikes and explore. Fridays are great for that. Much less traffic. We’ve actually been able to cross some roads (though I’m still pretty chicken). Every weekend we go a bit further and see a bit more—found a camel farm when friend Bruce Pilgrim took me out one evening, and I was actually able to take Glenn back there—no small feat for someone as directionally challenged as I am. We’ve also gone to an international horse jumping show at a gorgeous facility nearby and saw amazing athletes (being ridden by pretty good athletes). Tomorrow we’re going to a Dhow Festival at Katara beach, where I dragon boat. Glenn has been baking up a storm. He’s into bread now and has baked cinnamon buns and French loaf. Now you see why I have to go to boot camp once a week too. Glenn keeps fit by playing snooker once a week and playing with toy trains on Sunday evenings—don’t ask. Or ask Glenn.

What happens in Bangalore....

...winds up on YouTube!

I attended the Bangalore Literature Festival for a very important reason—the launch of Shashi Deshpande’s memoir, Listen to Me. I was honoured to share the stage with Shashi, Usha KR, and Vivek Shanbhag in a Q and A session that attracted quite a crowd—quite an adoring crowd, I have to add. Shashi’s work is well known throughout India; it’s taught in high school and undergraduate classes, for example. But, in her home town, Shashi is not only well known—she is beloved. I know she’ll be blushing as she reads this, but it’s true. I had the pleasure of spending time with her (and her husband and grandson) at the Festival, and we couldn’t walk ten feet forward without someone stopping her for an autograph or to share an anecdote. The last time I’ve had so much trouble moving through a crowd was when I walked the halls of Red Deer College with my friend and colleague Peter Slade.

But back to Bangalore. Shinie Anthony, the organizer, and her crew provided amazing hospitality. I stayed in the hotel where the Festival was held and was fed every day. I remet with friends in Bangalore that I’ve met through Shashi (shout out to all you on Shashi and Friends), rediscovered a friend I met in Hyderabad in 2004, and met for the first time some incredible people, including Faizana Shaikh, a brilliant Pakistani writer and a gracious, beautiful person. I also met, oddly enough, Bruce Sterling, an American science fiction writer (considered one of the co-founders of the cyber-punk genre). Even had a chance to sit and have a beer with him and his fellow panelists after one of his sessions. (Karen Lind, it was very cool to have an author’s pass at this Festival—it got me a couple of free beers anyway; I certainly thought of all those times we attended the Moose Jaw Festival and wondered what those authors do when they’re not in front of the audience. Now I know. They’re drinking the free beer. Some of them—not myself—drink a little bit too much of it). I also met a woman who ma






y someday be the First Lady of Lithuania. Strange story. I’ll leave it at that. What happens in Bangalore stays in Bangalore. But I’ll be watching the news from Lithuania in about 7 years. God willin’ and the crick don’t rise.

Thank you, Bangalore, and my Bangalore friends, for your warm hospitality. I will be back. And congratulations to Shashi, whose memoir provides an intimate glimpse into a life of writing. It was such a privilege and a pleasure to share that moment with you.

I’ll leave it there. Already I’ve said too much, revealed too many secrets. Here’s the final one: as Christmas approaches, I can’t help but feel a bit homesick. Miss those of you in Canada, and Glenn and I send good wishes and loving thoughts your way.



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