The following conversation took place yesterday in Panjim, the capital city of Goa, India. I am staying in a two star hotel. The staff are the nicest people ever, but the hotel sucks because the only thing that is within walking distance of is a landfill site (I’m not joking). There are no shops or houses or other hotels. It’s this hotel, a motorway and a huge dump. The smell at sunset is really something. This is a conversation between me and reception. It should be noted that there is no doubt in my mind, I am the first and maybe only foreigner in the hotel.
Me – Hello. Where is the restaurant?
Man – Sorry, sir.
Me – The restaurant.
Man – No restaurant.
Me – Oh, OK. I want to get some food.
Man – No problem. I call. What food would you like?
Me – Call?
Man – Yes, sir.
Me – Call who?
Man – Man he makes delivery.
Me – Erm… Right….
Man – I call…
Me – Wait… Is there a menu?
Man – No menu, sir. No restaurant.
Me – OK. So, who are you calling? I don’t understand, I’m getting a bit confused.
Man – Deliver man. You tell and he brings.
Me – Like, anything.
Man – Yes, sir.
Me – Like a dairy milk, anything?
Man – What is sir?
Me – If there’s no menu, how do I know what to ask for? I can’t decide from an infinite amount of food and how much it costs and where it’s coming from.
Man – I call, sir, and you tell.
Me – OK.
Man dials the number and waits patiently. I notice that the phone is sitting nicely on the table and is not connected to anything. There’s no wire at all, coming from it.
Man – Wait five minutes and I get you. Please sit under the A/C.
Me – The phone isn’t plugged in.
Man – Very good, sir.
Me – No, no, the phone, look, there’s no wire.
Man has no idea what I am talking about. I smile and go behind the counter and look for the wire. Man looks very confused. I can’t find the wire anywhere.
Me – Wait here for one moment.
I go up the stairs to my room and disconnect the phone and bring the wire down. I connect it to the phone, all the while, the man is glaring at me, like I’m being overly dramatic and a very demanding person.
Me – OK. Now you can call your friend.
Man – Very good, sir.
Man dials number and waits like at least 2 minutes.
Me – I don’t think he’s answering.
Man – 5 minutes, sir, and I call again.
Me – Erm, OK. Well, are you sure?
It should be noted that I’m generally an OK person. I don’t get aggressive when drunk, I do hangovers pretty well, and a lack of sleep just makes me dizzy more than moody. But if I’m hungry and ANYONE is in the way of making me less hungry, there is a high chance they could be killed violently by having their eyes poked out… with a spoon. Just imagine Hitler, on his period, stuck in rush hour traffic….. he’s just found out his wife is cheating on him………. And his X-Factor favorite didn’t win……… That’s how mad I can get.
But as a very wise friend once told me, India has its pace and you can’t change it or expect it to adapt to your pace. So, I just find myself accepting the most random of situations as being completely normal.
5 minutes later man knocks on my door with phone in his hand.
Man – Sir, you talk now.
I grab the phone.
Me – Hello.
Owner – Yes, sir.
Me – Hi.
Owner – Yes. Food.
Me – Yes. I want to order food.
Owner – OK. What would you like?
Me – Erm, this is a bit strange. There’s no restaurant here.
Owner – I am restaurant.
Me – Pizza?
Owner – Very good. Dominos.
Me – Grand. Pepperoni Passion with extra cheese and a coke.
Owner – Chicken pizza?
Me – No, pepperoni, please.
Owner – You are vegetarian?
Me – No.
Owner – No vegetarian pizza.
Me – Pepperoni, please.
Owner -They have chicken and beef and pork for non-veg. BBQ very good.
Me – OK.
Owner – OK?
Me – Yes. That one.
Owner – That one?
Me – Yes.
Owner – Very good.
No fucking clue what I ordered. It probably won’t even be a pizza and will be so spicy that I’ll have a burning arsehole for another three days (anal is illegal in India and now I know why).
So the food arrives. I eat it and go to reception and try to figure out what the hell is going on.
Me – Hello.
Owner – Hello, sir. Pizza was good.
Me – Yes, it was great.
Owner – Next time, you tell me in advance and I bring.
Me – In advance?
Owner – Yes, sir.
Me – The website of your hotel says that you have a restaurant.
Owner – No, no restaurant.
Me – And there’s no restaurant within walking distance?
Owner – No. Very far. That’s why, I get for you.
Me – I know. That was great. Thank you. Is this hotel new?
Owner – Yes. Yes.
Me – How old?
Owner – 7 years. We opened in 1997.
So many things wrong with the answer… I just glide on. ….
Me – Right. OK. I think you should change your website. Because it’s a little strange to phone a number and ask for anything with no menu, no price, no name…..
Owner – OK.
Me – Or, no guide.. Do you know what I mean?
Owner – This is room service…
Hands me a piece of paper…
Me – Yeah. You see, that’s not a room service, that’s a Dominos’ menu, isn’t it?
Owner – Yes.
Me – And they gave you that, when I ordered my pizza.
Owner – Yes.
Me – You know, you should have lots of different menus here, so people can choose.
Owner – OK. Very good, sir.
Me – And change the website. Europeans hate wrong information. We get mad.
Owner – All Europeans are like an empty mayonnaise.
He starts laughing. I start laughing. We both start laughing and having a moment of laughing together. Togetherness in laughter. But I don’t know what the hell was so funny. That comment didn’t make any sense.
Owner – You want dinner later. You tell me now and I get.
Me – Dinner?
Owner – Dinner is between 8 and 10.
Me – In Dominos?
Owner – Yes, sir.
Me – Why is there a set time? I don’t understand. It’s a takeaway.
Owner – That is the time, they have dinner.
Me – OK. I’m going to sleep.
Also, I was thinking… I’m gonna transcribe this conversation and upload it, coz it’s so weird.
Owner – You want same pizza?
Me – No. No. That’s not very healthy. Erm…
Owner – Here is room service, I call.
He gives me the Dominos’ menu and I select another pizza for 4 hours in the future because that’s just what you do here.
The man speaks lots of Hindi on the phone and then hands it to me.
Owner – Speak now. You tell.
Me – Hi.
Delivery woman – Order please.
Me – Deluxe Vege pizza, medium, please.
Delivery woman – With olives?
Me – Erm, does it have olives?…….. Yes…. there are olives on it……
Delivery woman – With onion?
Me – Yeah, with everything it comes with.
Delivery woman – With pepper, sir.
Me – Yeah, the Deluxe Vege pizza.
Delivery woman – Yes.
Me – I want that one. So…. Put all the correct ingredients on that one.
Delivery woman – Chicken…
Me – Is there chicken on the Deluxe Vege pizza?
Delivery woman – No. Extra.
Me – I just want the standard Deluxe Vege, please, no extras.
Delivery woman – Very good, sir. Beef?
Me – No.
Delivery woman – Pineapple?
Me – No.
She proceeds to list every single additional ingredient and I say ‘no’ to each one. There are about 14 of them, I reckon.
Delivery woman – Dip?
Me – Oh, do you have a garlic dip?
Delivery woman – Spicy.
Me – Sorry.
Delivery woman – Spicy, sir.
Me – Are you saying the garlic dip is spicy or do you have a spicy dip?
Delivery woman – No, garlic dip, spicy dip.
Me – I don’t want a spicy dip.
Delivery woman – You want a garlic dip, yes?
Me – Yes, please.
Delivery woman – No have.
Me – OK, bye.
Delivery woman – You have garlic bread.
Me – BYE.
I pass the phone back and roll my eyes. Man speaks in Hindi.
Owner – OK, sir. You have dinner for tonight. I call you when it arrives.
Me – Great. I’m going to sleep now, for a bit.
25 minutes later another pizza arrives.
Owner – This is for later, sir, I keep in fridge.
Me – OK. Great.
I officially give up.