God is Barry, a white Australian....

The handful of readers of this blog are convinced that I am a heretic, godless creature whose past sins will revisit him in world yonder. Happy to announce that I am convinced that God not only exists, but he is a white, stockily built Australian called Barry, who chauffeurs a car for a living..
The last few days in Delhi were a flurry. Affectionate farewells from colleagues, bills to pay and things to attend to kept me busy. I was wistful and sad as I left the familiarity of Delhi and took a leap into the unknown. I landed in Canberra on the 13th of Jan with the Missus and luggage. No, I didn’t carry any pickles, Dal and fried Malabari prawns: Australians have strict quarantine rules. We also were subject to a limit of luggage of 20 kgs- The fact that we were going to be in Australia for a full year merits no consideration by the Government of India. So we chose to wear layers and layers of winter clothing so that it is not counted towards the baggage allowance, only to arrive in Canberra on a hot and sunny day.
We were taken to the accommodation which we had booked almost two months ago. We were earlier supposed to arrive with Vasu aka Chathu. Luckily we found someone else who was flying to Melbourne later in the month to accompany him so that our one and only son can continue in India in the pampering care of his maternal grandparents until schools reopen in Australia. We had been paying rent to keep the place vacant until we arrive. Contrary to the promises of the landlord we found the room we had was too small. We were sharing the Kitchen with a Bhutanese couple, who were out mostly during the day. There was hardly place for three members more. Moreover the loo was away from the room and didn’t have a latch to bolt it from inside. We had to hang a board which said “engaged” to prevent unsuspecting visitors from stumbling inside in a hurry. We made it clear that the loo has to be exclusively for our use.
The neighbourhood is wealthy upper-class Australian with many old people walking the dogs or watering the plants. Trust them to smile at you and say “hello” or “Good morning “sweetly. The nearest shops were at least half an hour’s walk. The high school which Chathu was expected to attend was also far away. Considering the number of senior citizens doddering about, probably the last boy from the neighbourhood went to high school in the 1950s. Not really the kind of place to raise a Delhi teenager full of energy, attitude and chutzpah.
We started off on the house hunting almost the very next day onwards. Soon we realized that it is a seller’s market. The landlords sort of fix rentals by throwing darts at a Monopoly board choosing the amount depending on whether the dart hit Piccadilly or Eastham in London. Quote high if it is Piccadilly and chances are that they get what they quote. It is a good time for Jai Mata Di and Khurana ‘Praaapty’ dealers in Dwarka to shift base to Canberra. If you have seen Boman Irani in Khosla ka Ghosla, you will know what I mean. The scene where Boman Irani acting as Khurana adjusts his private parts as he gets down from his huge car rather publicly is a classic. Either the Director or Boman Irani had been watching Delhi property dealers very closely …. I digress.
The guys working at Canberra’s property agents are normally very young and not very well informed. It is basically a holiday pursuit to earn quick money. The houses on rent are normally open for inspection for a princely 10 minutes on a Friday or Saturday. You could land up there to find 100 guys waiting in line to have a look at the house. You then make a formal application citing previous references; ie a recommendation letter from earlier landlords showering encomiums on your conduct as a model tenant. Now where would a couple newly arrived from India get that? From among the successful applicants one is short listed-Rumored to be by a process of throwing all the applications in the air near a wide mouthed garbage bin and plucking one from the air before it lands in it. I soon saw that we don’t stand a chance. The other option was to get a house far away from the Australian National University where we were studying or far from where we could admit Chathu. We would then be spending most of the time reading thrillers while waiting for or riding in Canberra’s rather infrequent public bus service.
So it happened that Anita (my diplomat sis in law) arrived from Melbourne the very next day to check us out. Like all the privileged foreign office types, she came in a large chauffeur driven car driven by Barry, an archetypal beefy white Australian driver- Quite polite for an Australian… Comes from driving embassy cars, I suppose. Anita had gone to the High Commissioner’s residence to drop off something. I sat and chatted with Barry for a long time about my housing predicament. Barry promised to keep an eye open for anything that comes his way. He noted down my mobile number too.
The next day I received a call from Barry in the morning. He said it sort of struck him that his sis in law had a vacant house in the suburbs lying empty. He told me that it pained him as a long-time Canberra resident that the city could be so unwelcoming to students from other countries. Rhonda, Barry’s sis in law is quite a busy professional The house was primarily built for her mother as an extension to her house. The said mother passed away before she could live in it. It has been lying vacant for the last one year or so. He said that we could move in immediately since she has no plans to let it out until Christmas 2009. By that time, we would have winged our way back to India. Suited us just fine.
We saw the house on a Sunday when Rhonda was around and we loved it. It is a fully furnished, brand new house with two bedrooms, central heating, lovely minimalist furniture and all modern conveniences. Rhonda, was kind enough to ask us how much we could afford. We told her to fix it slightly below the market rent so that she also doesn’t lose much. Although the rent is huge by Indian standards and it almost drains away our combined allowances by almost half, we thought it was worth it; considering that it was a beautiful house in a tony neighbourhood. She could get a much higher rent. But she sort of expects us to just keep the house clean and occupied. After we finalized the home, she even drove us down to check out Chathu’s School and she showed us the nearby markets. Quite sweet of her.
Chathu arrives on 28th Jan at Melbourne. We hope to go there, spend a couple of days and drive down with him. We expect to move into the new house around 1st Feb. It is slightly far from the University but there are Schools nearby for Chathu to go to. We have been going around Canberra; a small beautiful city; but with too many norms of acceptable public behaviour. It is rather vexing for the average Delhiite. So here I am with a place to rest my head with family in the capital of Australia, thanks to God, who actually is someone called Barry, a white Australian who drives the embassy cars for a living.