saying our goodbyes in India

Time to say bye-bye to St Teresa's, with its wacky and cool mid-century convent...

And bye-bye, Grand Hotel. My history colleagues took us for lunch there yesterday, which is where we stayed in December when we first arrived. It felt a little surreal to be back!

We had one more outing to sample the street food at the ferry building.

 one more soda sarbat with tulsi seeds

 one more pineapple masala

 one more fresh coconut

one more attempt at a family selfie

 (and one more)

 (and one more)

one more dosa, vada, coconut chutney, and coffee at the Indian Coffee House

one more day of skating and cycling on the marg

And Michael said goodbye to this fellow, who runs the parking lot near our flat. We walk through it frequently on our way to Broadway shops. He is usually wearing a smashed lady's plastic straw hat, and Michael is always wearing his floppy canvas hat. [Sidebar: Indian people almost never wear hats or sunglasses. Why not? They do (mostly the women) carry umbrellas to keep the sun off, or drape their scarves or saris over their heads. Maybe they think they look dumb or they don't want to mess up their hair.] They have running non-verbal joke about their hats, which amounts to a lot of mutual gesturing about trading hats. The guy usually hails Michael from across the lot with a loud string of Malayalam, theatrically pointing to his head and begging for the hat. Michael responds by saying something like, "I still need my hat! Not today! Later!" and commenting on the other guy's hat.

 Today Michael delivered the payoff on the months-long joke: he gave him his hat.

The guy didn't laugh or refuse, as I thought he might. 

He reverently bent his head and let Michael place the hat on it. I guess he really wanted the hat.

Michael also said his goodbyes to the Orange Runners. They went out with a bang, attending together the wedding of a former member on Monday night. Interesting twist: the runner wasn't the groom, but the bride! Michael hadn't met her because she stopped running with the group this year, but she knew him from the WhatsApp group.

 (that's the bride in the middle! isn't it interesting how casually everyone else is dressed?)

she was beautifully draped with gold

after the wonderful supper, the vegetarian tee-totalers enjoyed the lavish cake and ice cream bar...

while the meat-eating drinkers repaired to the bar at the back (the venue was the only club in Ernakulam that serves alcohol) [video]

We said goodbye to the owner of Punjab House, where we ate dozens of meals.

Michael had his last bowl of his special Indian muesli: oats, buffalo milk, nuts, cinnamon, curd, bananas, and pomegranate seeds.

 We had a last ice cream sundae and tearful farewell with a five-year-old friend.

And we enjoyed our last Indian sunset over drinks on our neighbor's balcony.

That's a wrap.
I know there will be unexpected challenges ahead in re-entry, and I plan to keep blogging about it for a while. But right now I have to finish packing.