cricket, giant naan, habib

Jet lag is a killer; I woke up at 4am today and couldn't get back to sleep. Every time I'd get out of bed and think that I should just get ready to go, I'd suddenly feel tired again, and so I'd go back to bed thinking that I'd finally fall asleep, but it wasn't happening. So I got another late start at the office this morning, but since I don't have a defined role yet and am still incredibly tired, I think it was okay. I didn't do much at work, but after work we played cricket! The office has an actual club set up, but today they decided to set up some more informal matches with people of varying degrees of skill (i.e. one dude used to play for the state team, and he was playing with/against a bunch of expatriates who've never even seen a game before, let alone played). I did my best elementary school job of keeping out of the way of the ball and not batting, so I guess 'played' is a bit of an exaggeration, but I had a lot of fun despite that. Cricket's a very weird game; I suppose it's technically as boring or more boring than baseball, but today at least was fun.

After cricket, the expats went out for dinner at Peshawri's, an Indian restaurant in the Sheraton hotel. I agreed with others that some of the dishes are better elsewhere (not that I've had much of anything here, but I've enjoyed versions of these things in California so much more). However, Peshawri's does have a few things going for it. 1) The interior is well-decorated and posh. 2) The Coke tastes great. 3) Most importantly, the giant naan is indeed giant; it comes on a huge platter, the diameter is longer than my forearm, and the whole thing is drenched in butter. Mmm, delicious. Since all I had for lunch was a spoonful of rice w/garbanzo beans (ick), dinner was very much welcomed.

Now I'm back in the hotel, and falling asleep over the keyword. However, I just wanted to point out that there is at least one person named Habib somewhere in Hyderabad. As we were going to the restaurant, I noticed that a store we passed along the way was labeled 'Habib's Beauty Parlor.' If Habib could be as hot as Jason Bourne was when he chopped off the girl's hair in the hotel room in 'The Bourne Identity', I would go to get my hair cut every day. Alas, though, I do not know where this place was located, and I don't really want to ask around and find out.

P.S. For those of you not in the know, some of my friends are convinced I'll come back to some dude named Habib. I'm working on it, but right now I need to work on falling asleep instead.