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My Accounting Play app development had brought me to an unlikely place, Chandigarh, India which turned out to be an even more unlikely American suburban clone, albeit with the seemingly superficial differences like the occasional cow in the street or cricket game playing instead of baseball. A couple days prior, I enjoyed an Indian micro-brew accompanied with palak paneer with Sunil as we discussed plans and the office visit. The team had grown from his efforts as a solo designer on a freelancing website, to a thriving business in a few short years… I wonder how the onsite visit was going to turnout.
The day before the meeting was set, I embarked in one of the most courageous foreign country activities I know of: a haircut. I venture from the Hyatt Regency, a half block away from the mall. "Phewf, I made it." Same stuff, little variations, I pass the Harley Davidson store, differentiated from the U.S. only by employee dress code - large turbans all around, which often prevent the use of helmets. “What if there is some protection under the turban,” I wonder, until my stomach grumble snaps me back into reality. Hungry and recovering from my "New Delhi Belly" I go to McDonalds, but first past five floors of stores such as Diesel and Bose.
"Spicy McChicken Paneer Please" - I mean you only live once, so I went for it. SPICY and deep fried, it was just ok. A kid wants to take a picture of me, not a terribly uncommon request and I accept this mini ego boost and smile for the selfie. Not that special really, the picture count per capita in ALL East Asian cultures rivals any adolescent LA teenager. I was just a prop. The photo revealed a dirty looking American dude and I was newly inspired for the fresh cut.