The American International School of Chennai

Wandering around the many, many cultural festivals Chennai has to offer I have sunk to the embarrassing social status of seeking out fluent english speakers. At the Kalakshetra a few weeks back I saw two kids running around and they were speaking a brand of english I know well. It has the English that kids from the eastern half of the united states speak (probably western as well, I just haven't spent enough time there to know) mixed in with plenty of gibberish. These two children were with their American mothers and while stopping for a snack at the Kalakshetra canteen I over heard them speaking. Of course I gravitated to the sound of American english. I began speaking with the two women to find out that they teach at the American International School of Chennai, which in fact, happens to be in the same neighborhood as my institute. Well, swell! We spoke for well over an hour and my Indian friend and I got to act like little kids and run around with the children for a few minutes, all very good fun. So we exchanged numbers and said we hope to see each other again sometime.

Just recently one of the ladies called me to tell me the AISC was having AN AFTER SCHOOL COCKTAIL PARTY FOR THE FACULTY!!!!! Are you kidding me!? This was not a joke. So I set off on my cocktail seeking horse and took my ass right down to the school. I had some trouble getting through security, but luckily had the contact name and number of these two teachers. After getting through security I saw the inner grounds of what I believed to be something like heaven...

What is this place? Well manicured soccer pitch, olympic size swimming pool, big jungle gym for the younger kids, COCKTAILS, skewered meat, fresh PASTA... I had truly left Chennai. Where had this place come from? From whence cometh this oasis of goodness? Oh yes, it came from America. I realized I felt right at home. It should also be mentioned duly that the ratio of men to women was basically 1:1 (as one might expect, but Chennai somehow doesn't have such an even ratio). So I indulged a little and ate a nice big skewer of grilled shrimp, a plate of pasta, and a G&T! Boo ya! After this I began talking to one of the male faculty members, he used to brew beer back in America! Of course, I'm home again.

After the cocktail party (kick ass!) there was a private house party at the house of a couple from the school. I show up, to find a plethora of Americans talking about things like BASKETBALL and PHILADELPHIA and SEATTLE and BOURBON and how much we all dislike Kingfisher! I had a great time to say the least. The only real problem I had was the Rickshaw driver afterward when I tried to go home. The Rickshaw driver smelled alcohol on my breath and decided I was in an unfit state to reason with him.

So here's how the conversation went down.
GCA: I need to go to R.A. Puram
Mosquito: Ok
GCA: How much?
Mosquito: You've been drinking.
GCA: I'll pay you 100
Mosquito: Nighttime sir
GCA: I know it's nighttime. You charge 1.5 at night.
Mosquito: No Sir, nighttime.
GCA: Yeah I know. Turn the meter on and I'll jump in.
Mosquito: Meter no work
GCA: If you turn the meter on it will say Rs 80, I guarantee it, I'll pay you 100.
Mosquito: Nighttime sir
GCA: How much do you want?
Mosquito: How much will you pay?
GCA: If I get a meter, I'll pay 80, if not I'll pay 100.
Mosquito: No sir, very late hour
GCA: How much do you want?
Mosquito: How much will you pay?
GCA: If I get a meter I'll pay 80, I promise you it will say 80. If you just take me 100.

Then the mosquito drove off in his little yellow malaria machine without me.

It wasn't enough to ruin the evening for, just enough to make me rally against the mosquitoes even harder. I hate those guys. But, I love America, and I really love hanging out with well educated, well traveled Americans living abroad (lots of cool travel stories!)