Let's talk travel

His beautiful charcoal black hair curled around his face perfectly, he was dressed in a knee length cotton gown with embroidery on the sleeves around his wrists. On the bottom he wore pants of similar white color cloth.I was to learn later that the attire is called kurta pajama.He pushed a box towards me. I was dressed in a small tight red silk top lined with shinning jewels where it cut around my stomach. A long flowing silk red skirt swam around my ankles with the jewels marking its end in a wavy pattern. A long cloth same as the others hanged from one side of my shoulder, passed under the other arm and fluttered its way to a stop around my hips. A shiny thin golden metal holding a pendant shone on my neck. He reached for my hand which made the array of bangles jingle.
The taxi dropped us off at a restaurant in Nairobi. Wooden chairs spotted the interior of the diner and potted palm trees stood at every corner. Like a theater, the Indian chefs were cooking in glass wall kitchen raised on a podium, while we sat in the dimly lit table. Surprisingly the waiters were dressed in a western cut clothes. He didn’t bother to ask what I wanted instead ordered away. The waiter brought us a cold white drink known as lassi, it tasted like natural yogurt only salted.Simmering plates of different food was laid on the table between us. The smell of coconut and a taste of ghee hit my tongue from the puttu rice. Fish curry with the rice was utmost delicious. My tongue bathed around the deliciousness for long moments. Roti, a thin round dough of wheat and garlic fried with butter went down well with an olan dish which was a mix of coconut milk, beans, pumpkin, curry and green pepper. I could imagine South India full of coconut trees and fishing boats. Because of me the food had mild chillie.For desert a pot of spiced tea was served with plantain dough. Some of them had a reddish powder on top which burned my throat. A cup of milk killed the fire.He needed me to know him, I did.