My enquiry at the (potentially) juuust right third option Snow Height Apartment for Long and Short Term Stays Attached Kitchen was for kicks. Experience tells me words like 'Apartment' and 'Kitchen' are expensive. BUT cooking-for-oneself usually saves money. And it would make my upcoming days of silence more do-able. I popped in.
The office wasalso mostly a convenience store stocked with chips, pop, instant noodles and powdered milk. Stock actually worthy of note were cold juice and bottled water - could be handy to have nearby! I was shown room #7, up only 12 low-grade* stairs: do-able(*low-grade as in low-incline not of low-quality). It was nearly twice the size of #104 at Happy Home and also had a private bathroom and a sunny window... attached to a PRIVATE porch... looking out onto the hills and MOUNTAINS! Damn it! It was perfect! Clean too - and probably totally unaffordable! With its cute purple bedsheets, nice black counter-top in the kitchen area, bigger TV, two lovely wooden lounge chairs, most spacious bathroom I've had in India! Boo. Now I'll have to face the budget-breaking cost, say no and go back to ironically sulk at the Happy Home. Surely I'll also be cursed with jealous dreams of these richer folks with balconies overlooking idealized scenic wonderlands (always slightly exaggerated in dreams, of course).
I asked if there was "anything smaller? Opposite brick-wall facing? Less Awesome!?" with a tear in my eye. My chaperon doesn't negotiate room rates but he does know another room on the 'first' floor (relatively speaking, it's still one storey above ground) which is currently occupied but available soon. Considering this, I ask to stand on the not-so-private balcony to assess the view. It's even sunnier than the last room but the mountains aren't as instantly visible. That makes me feel better. Not ALL the rooms at Snow Height are Awesome with a capital A.
Back at the 7-11 of Hotel Lobbies I get down to business. Since I didn't see a cooking element/stove in the kitchen I note it for potential leverage in cost negotiations. The moment of reckoning: first round prices.
"Well," says the 7-11 clerk/hotel manager, "you get it today or tomorrow?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Room 7 is only open today and number 1 only tomorrow."
I consider this and reply disappointed already, "oh, not all week?"
He seems confused. "Yes, all week too. You need how long?"
Oookay bring on the miscommunication. "I guess it depends on the price. I have my bags somewhere e..."
"400 Rupees."
"What?" I shake my head slightly to help me hear correctly.
"400 Rupees," he repeats.
"Per night?" I clarify as if he was giving me an hourly rate for REEEEALLY short-term stays. Surely my eyes have already told him there will be no haggling from this customer.
"Yes, but after 400 and 400 and 400 then 800."
"ah, okay," I say knowingly but utterly confused. The price is awesome but only for two days? Ugh. Time to employ Tactic #1. "But the kitchen didn't have the stove..." I get a blank look. "Uh, stove? The cooking element." More blank-ness. "For cooking..."
"Gas?"
oh right. Gas. "Yes! Gas. Gas wasn't there," my syntax mutating like a chameleon.
"We put that in."
There goes that barter... "Oh, oh. Good. Yes. So the room is 400 rupees for the two nights but 800 after two?"
"No."
As usual I am stumped. No?
I'm quite sure I didn't just fantasize paying double for no reason, unless this is all a dream... but it feels more like a rocking riot in a dinghy on a stormy Universal sea of Going-with-the-Flow... I feel a bit queasy. "So I pay 400 rupees for today and 400 for tomorrow. Then 800 rupees?" Learning from past experience rewording the question can be a bit like taking a Gravol and even out the waves of confusion. Here's hopin'.
"No. You pay only 400 rupees a night. 800 rupees later."
He almost had me there. I liked the first part and then got lost again, but getting closer. Wait! Maybe the first 'you' was singular and the second was plural. Maybe? One more Question-Gravol: "How much then is it for one week? From today 8 April until April," counting on my fingers, "14. Seven nights?"
"That is," tabulates on the calculator, "2800 rupees." YES! Internal fist-pump and attempting not to look desperately excited. I ask with all the calm I can muster, "and gas is 500?"
"No, gas is 300," the 7-11 manager sighs.
"right, 300 rupees for 5kg gas," I almost giggle with happiness. I would have actually giggled but as it stands this is the second room I am procuring for the same one night and the thought of Happy reminds me of the Happy Home where my bags are. Where the key in my pocket belongs. Some where in my mind I register the comment he makes, "and 5kg gas is enough for you."
"Okay. So. Now. ... My bags are somewhere else. So. What? Can? ... Is there something I can leave to hold the...?" In my head I'm also trying to work out the cost-recovery excuse/plan for the two-room situation.
His reply is resoundingly logical, "you pay in advance. Pay one night and after pay more." Clearly. The concept of a DEPOSIT had eluded me - the giving of money is certainly the customary manner of ensuring one's space be held in a transaction like this (something I clearly have had trouble grasping lately, as per the meditation course). I just hope I won't be paying for two nights accommodation tonight... I get my Official convenience store receipt and feel giddy that now my 400rupees/night is in writing (which, for those of you converting to Canadian dollars is roughly 10). I dig out a 500 rupee bill. He asks my name. I ask one more question:
"So is it pretty quite here?"
"Oh yes!" he assures me, "mostly all girls right now. And one monk. This is before all Indians come on holiday. Now is before April 16."
"That's good. Good." NOW I get it!! This is off-season = 400 and next week the price is jacked up = 800! Why didn't he just say that? Or, rather, why did he say anything about the week for which I WASN'T inquiring. No matter. He says I need a photocopy of my passport/visa and tells me where to get it. I'm also informed he can book taxis if I want. I confirm the location of the former ("straight" back up the three-turn hill) and reject the non-human-powered-conveyance.
BAM! Thank-you Flow! You've done it again! But... maybe over done it. I'm grateful for the 100 rupees change in my pocket but 2 rooms for one night? Wait. 100 rupees in my pocket. Like "to spare"... have half-conceived plan is brewing in my mind... and I'm not proud to say it but the first version of this plan was... Here I am in the town of Buddhism, religion of compassion and moral mindfulness, within 10 km of the residence of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama and I concoct a plan... to lie. Yes, my first idea was to lie to the people at the Happy Home! AND it was a good one. You'd've believed it! I even practiced it once on the first turn of the hill (which took my breath away as it was significantly more taxing than on the way down!)
Luckily for my conscience (nay, my soul!) by the top of the hill a new, more honest plan hit me like a burst of lactic acid in my hamstrings. It took until the orange steps of Happy Home to finalize it but I figured that I'd say something simple (like the truth) "I'm sorry for the inconvenience but I have other accomodations" and offer 100 rupees for their initial kindness/luggage storage. After the first flight of stairs though I pre-bartered my peace offering and decided to start it at 50 rupees in case that was considered enough for 3 hours storage (and the bit of secret laundry I'd wrap up in my towel and hid in my luggage to be unseen on the way out).
Fifteen minutes and 50 rupees later it was done, I was Happy and Happy Home-less... but not room-less. I was already half way back to Snow Height and thinking "a cab mighta been nice right about now," but struggled through it with the compassionate smiles and few cheerful, encouraging comments of random strangers in heavily accented English. (Really, three people commented in a friendly, non-hassling way and at LEAST five gave me the "you go girl" look... or at least the "you Crazy girl" look but I'll remember them all as the first version thankyouverymuch).
Plus passing on the cab probably saved me almost 50 rupees anyway. I figure I broke even for the day.
Now I sit here today at Snow Height (whoa! just realized... it rhymes with White, Snow White... and I'm "door" number 7: Snow Height, 7th Door! Ha! oh man, I'm funny) with my spacious room with a dedicated yoga-mat corner. Some laundry is now washed. My shawls and various souviners are displayed decorating wherever they can: I LOVE IT!
Oh and best of all... yes, I CAN see the snowy Himalayas FROM. MY. BED! (with purple sheets that match my earplugs). BooYeah!
To The Rockin' Flow of the Universe - Thank you! But the giving of all kinds of opportunity (and confusion) doesn't stop there, oh no! I also got pretty pumped about making my own Solo "Life-Meditation Course" schedule and made a plan with lots of yoga, writing, contemplation/meditation, (some) silence, (some) exploration and lots of Flow-Going. Very exciting indeed!
The office was
I asked if there was "anything smaller? Opposite brick-wall facing? Less Awesome!?" with a tear in my eye. My chaperon doesn't negotiate room rates but he does know another room on the 'first' floor (relatively speaking, it's still one storey above ground) which is currently occupied but available soon. Considering this, I ask to stand on the not-so-private balcony to assess the view. It's even sunnier than the last room but the mountains aren't as instantly visible. That makes me feel better. Not ALL the rooms at Snow Height are Awesome with a capital A.
Back at the 7-11 of Hotel Lobbies I get down to business. Since I didn't see a cooking element/stove in the kitchen I note it for potential leverage in cost negotiations. The moment of reckoning: first round prices.
"Well," says the 7-11 clerk/hotel manager, "you get it today or tomorrow?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Room 7 is only open today and number 1 only tomorrow."
I consider this and reply disappointed already, "oh, not all week?"
He seems confused. "Yes, all week too. You need how long?"
Oookay bring on the miscommunication. "I guess it depends on the price. I have my bags somewhere e..."
"400 Rupees."
"What?" I shake my head slightly to help me hear correctly.
"400 Rupees," he repeats.
"Per night?" I clarify as if he was giving me an hourly rate for REEEEALLY short-term stays. Surely my eyes have already told him there will be no haggling from this customer.
"Yes, but after 400 and 400 and 400 then 800."
"ah, okay," I say knowingly but utterly confused. The price is awesome but only for two days? Ugh. Time to employ Tactic #1. "But the kitchen didn't have the stove..." I get a blank look. "Uh, stove? The cooking element." More blank-ness. "For cooking..."
"Gas?"
oh right. Gas. "Yes! Gas. Gas wasn't there," my syntax mutating like a chameleon.
"We put that in."
There goes that barter... "Oh, oh. Good. Yes. So the room is 400 rupees for the two nights but 800 after two?"
"No."
As usual I am stumped. No?
I'm quite sure I didn't just fantasize paying double for no reason, unless this is all a dream... but it feels more like a rocking riot in a dinghy on a stormy Universal sea of Going-with-the-Flow... I feel a bit queasy. "So I pay 400 rupees for today and 400 for tomorrow. Then 800 rupees?" Learning from past experience rewording the question can be a bit like taking a Gravol and even out the waves of confusion. Here's hopin'.
"No. You pay only 400 rupees a night. 800 rupees later."
He almost had me there. I liked the first part and then got lost again, but getting closer. Wait! Maybe the first 'you' was singular and the second was plural. Maybe? One more Question-Gravol: "How much then is it for one week? From today 8 April until April," counting on my fingers, "14. Seven nights?"
"That is," tabulates on the calculator, "2800 rupees." YES! Internal fist-pump and attempting not to look desperately excited. I ask with all the calm I can muster, "and gas is 500?"
"No, gas is 300," the 7-11 manager sighs.
"right, 300 rupees for 5kg gas," I almost giggle with happiness. I would have actually giggled but as it stands this is the second room I am procuring for the same one night and the thought of Happy reminds me of the Happy Home where my bags are. Where the key in my pocket belongs. Some where in my mind I register the comment he makes, "and 5kg gas is enough for you."
"Okay. So. Now. ... My bags are somewhere else. So. What? Can? ... Is there something I can leave to hold the...?" In my head I'm also trying to work out the cost-recovery excuse/plan for the two-room situation.
His reply is resoundingly logical, "you pay in advance. Pay one night and after pay more." Clearly. The concept of a DEPOSIT had eluded me - the giving of money is certainly the customary manner of ensuring one's space be held in a transaction like this (something I clearly have had trouble grasping lately, as per the meditation course). I just hope I won't be paying for two nights accommodation tonight... I get my Official convenience store receipt and feel giddy that now my 400rupees/night is in writing (which, for those of you converting to Canadian dollars is roughly 10). I dig out a 500 rupee bill. He asks my name. I ask one more question:
"So is it pretty quite here?"
"Oh yes!" he assures me, "mostly all girls right now. And one monk. This is before all Indians come on holiday. Now is before April 16."
"That's good. Good." NOW I get it!! This is off-season = 400 and next week the price is jacked up = 800! Why didn't he just say that? Or, rather, why did he say anything about the week for which I WASN'T inquiring. No matter. He says I need a photocopy of my passport/visa and tells me where to get it. I'm also informed he can book taxis if I want. I confirm the location of the former ("straight" back up the three-turn hill) and reject the non-human-powered-conveyance.
BAM! Thank-you Flow! You've done it again! But... maybe over done it. I'm grateful for the 100 rupees change in my pocket but 2 rooms for one night? Wait. 100 rupees in my pocket. Like "to spare"... have half-conceived plan is brewing in my mind... and I'm not proud to say it but the first version of this plan was... Here I am in the town of Buddhism, religion of compassion and moral mindfulness, within 10 km of the residence of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama and I concoct a plan... to lie. Yes, my first idea was to lie to the people at the Happy Home! AND it was a good one. You'd've believed it! I even practiced it once on the first turn of the hill (which took my breath away as it was significantly more taxing than on the way down!)
Luckily for my conscience (nay, my soul!) by the top of the hill a new, more honest plan hit me like a burst of lactic acid in my hamstrings. It took until the orange steps of Happy Home to finalize it but I figured that I'd say something simple (like the truth) "I'm sorry for the inconvenience but I have other accomodations" and offer 100 rupees for their initial kindness/luggage storage. After the first flight of stairs though I pre-bartered my peace offering and decided to start it at 50 rupees in case that was considered enough for 3 hours storage (and the bit of secret laundry I'd wrap up in my towel and hid in my luggage to be unseen on the way out).
Fifteen minutes and 50 rupees later it was done, I was Happy and Happy Home-less... but not room-less. I was already half way back to Snow Height and thinking "a cab mighta been nice right about now," but struggled through it with the compassionate smiles and few cheerful, encouraging comments of random strangers in heavily accented English. (Really, three people commented in a friendly, non-hassling way and at LEAST five gave me the "you go girl" look... or at least the "you Crazy girl" look but I'll remember them all as the first version thankyouverymuch).
Plus passing on the cab probably saved me almost 50 rupees anyway. I figure I broke even for the day.
Now I sit here today at Snow Height (whoa! just realized... it rhymes with White, Snow White... and I'm "door" number 7: Snow Height, 7th Door! Ha! oh man, I'm funny) with my spacious room with a dedicated yoga-mat corner. Some laundry is now washed. My shawls and various souviners are displayed decorating wherever they can: I LOVE IT!
Oh and best of all... yes, I CAN see the snowy Himalayas FROM. MY. BED! (with purple sheets that match my earplugs). BooYeah!
To The Rockin' Flow of the Universe - Thank you! But the giving of all kinds of opportunity (and confusion) doesn't stop there, oh no! I also got pretty pumped about making my own Solo "Life-Meditation Course" schedule and made a plan with lots of yoga, writing, contemplation/meditation, (some) silence, (some) exploration and lots of Flow-Going. Very exciting indeed!
to be continued...
by LyndiaP April 2011 (part 2 of 4)
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