My posts are about five days behind because of wifi issues and taking too many pictures. So if things are ever confusing chronologically, please forgive me. Trying to type and think while on a bus in Indian traffic is never easy.
I didn’t think I could stay in a home that was more beautiful than the previous, but I was wrong. My new host father is an exporter and his wife is an incredible interior designer. They didn’t use an architect for the house because she designed it all herself. So incredible.
It’s also interesting that in India wealthy people have pretty normal sized homes. They are not the least bit over the top or ridiculous like so many homes in America.
See? Not obnoxious or ostentatious at all. It’s so understated and simple, Indians do it so right. I want to steal everything. Chelsy, you would die for this house.
And my roommate Janine:
Our beautiful bathroom and rain shower:
The fabric on the benches in our room.
An indoor tree where they can make it rain (when it’s not monsoon season)
A ridiculous breakfast buffet each morning.
Which includes this:
If you think I didn’t scream and violently hug my host mother, you would be wrong.
We also have a pool. It is quite the satisfactory experience.
Slumber party time