So, here's an interesting story to freak out everyone at home. Note, this only happened once and it really wasn't as bad as I'm going to describe it.
It was late on a Thursday afternoon. The sun was setting and a cool breeze came over the city as it does at every dusk. Evening is the most pleasant time in Pune. The honking dies down, the sun stops roasting everyone, and the smells from the numerous restaurants and street venders overtakes the air. Tess and I debated eating out on this gorgeous evening when one of the Germans invited us to go to his favorite restaurant, Baba's. How could we pass up an invitation to a place called Baba's? (For those of you who don't know, the grandmother of Surf Church where Tess and I attend in Bristol is named Bobba. Every Sunday after church, the entire gang goes over to Bobba's to eat a fantastic meal. So, you can see why we had to go and see the Indian version of Bobba's/Baba's.)
It was dark when we headed to Baba's. It was only a few blocks away and down a side street. Baba's seemed like a pretty relaxed restaurant. You sit outside under a large awning. There were many people eating, enjoying the company of friends, and laughing. I figured that was a good enough sign. The six of us piled around a table and made ourselves comfortable. A young waiter came up and began to set the table with the water, extra plates, and the onion and pickle platter (Trust me, I still haven't figured out what these are for yet). He was kind and smiled, but you could tell this was the largest number of white people he has ever seen at one time.
We all ordered a massive amount of food. The two boys, Emanuel from Portugal and Jeff from Germany, always end up with a ton of food for themselves. We learned a lot about Portugal and why Emanuel had decided to study law in Germany and India. Jeff is a little older and wiser. He is also studying law here in India. I believe both of them are almost done with school altogether. Melisa and Maggie, from New York, are such entertaining characters. They make us laugh a lot. The conversation was fun as always.
When the food finally arrived, we devoured it. Tess and I split a vegetable thali (taa-lee) dish. Steam rose up from the deliciously smelling pile of food. The tray comes with little silver bowls each filled with a different type of sauce or vegetable creation. Fresh roti (a type of flat bread and my absolute favorite) was brought out for us to eat with the vegetables. It all smelled and tasted heavenly. My tongue has gotten used to the spices, so I can actually enjoy my food now.
As dinner came to an end, we were all caught off guard. Yelling came from our right. I wasn't sure what was going on and looked at Tess with a confused expression. Two police officers decked out in the brown uniforms came in screaming in Marathi, the language of the state of Maharashtra. Next thing we know, the lights were turned off, the kitchen staff pulled down the metal doors, and everyone turned silent. We all gave each other terrified looks. Not one of us knew what was going on in the restaurant. The officers continued to speak frantically. No one seemed to answer them. Soon, two young waiters were escorted off the deck. Then, they were forced into a large truck packed full of men of all ages. One policeman came back up in search of something else. Not finding anything, he hopped onto the truck and pulled away. The two young boys, apparently criminals of some sort, smiled largely as the truck rolled into the distance. Our hearts were all beating loudly as we attempted to laugh off the entire circumstance. One of the girls with us was beginning to break out in hives because of her nervousness.
We asked for our check and sorted out the money in the dark. The owner came up with a flashlight so we could see the bill. Quickly, we booked it out of the restaurant, thankful nothing else happened. Once we were far enough away, we all let out deep breaths and multiple, "OH MY GOSH!"
Honestly, we were safe the entire time. Personally, I wasn't even that nervous. It was another adventure in a strange country. However, I am very thankful this has never happened at our "Bobba's" back at home!
(Just so you know... The germans have gone back to Baba's many times since that night. The place is running fine and there are no other suspicious activities occurring.)
It was late on a Thursday afternoon. The sun was setting and a cool breeze came over the city as it does at every dusk. Evening is the most pleasant time in Pune. The honking dies down, the sun stops roasting everyone, and the smells from the numerous restaurants and street venders overtakes the air. Tess and I debated eating out on this gorgeous evening when one of the Germans invited us to go to his favorite restaurant, Baba's. How could we pass up an invitation to a place called Baba's? (For those of you who don't know, the grandmother of Surf Church where Tess and I attend in Bristol is named Bobba. Every Sunday after church, the entire gang goes over to Bobba's to eat a fantastic meal. So, you can see why we had to go and see the Indian version of Bobba's/Baba's.)
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| Always being followed. These kids break your heart. |
We all ordered a massive amount of food. The two boys, Emanuel from Portugal and Jeff from Germany, always end up with a ton of food for themselves. We learned a lot about Portugal and why Emanuel had decided to study law in Germany and India. Jeff is a little older and wiser. He is also studying law here in India. I believe both of them are almost done with school altogether. Melisa and Maggie, from New York, are such entertaining characters. They make us laugh a lot. The conversation was fun as always.
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| Vegetable Thali. |
As dinner came to an end, we were all caught off guard. Yelling came from our right. I wasn't sure what was going on and looked at Tess with a confused expression. Two police officers decked out in the brown uniforms came in screaming in Marathi, the language of the state of Maharashtra. Next thing we know, the lights were turned off, the kitchen staff pulled down the metal doors, and everyone turned silent. We all gave each other terrified looks. Not one of us knew what was going on in the restaurant. The officers continued to speak frantically. No one seemed to answer them. Soon, two young waiters were escorted off the deck. Then, they were forced into a large truck packed full of men of all ages. One policeman came back up in search of something else. Not finding anything, he hopped onto the truck and pulled away. The two young boys, apparently criminals of some sort, smiled largely as the truck rolled into the distance. Our hearts were all beating loudly as we attempted to laugh off the entire circumstance. One of the girls with us was beginning to break out in hives because of her nervousness.
We asked for our check and sorted out the money in the dark. The owner came up with a flashlight so we could see the bill. Quickly, we booked it out of the restaurant, thankful nothing else happened. Once we were far enough away, we all let out deep breaths and multiple, "OH MY GOSH!"
Honestly, we were safe the entire time. Personally, I wasn't even that nervous. It was another adventure in a strange country. However, I am very thankful this has never happened at our "Bobba's" back at home!
(Just so you know... The germans have gone back to Baba's many times since that night. The place is running fine and there are no other suspicious activities occurring.)
That dish looks so good! Please learn some recipes for me! :)
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