Moving to India has been the start of a necessary reeducation.  We live in a knee jerk era and as time passes I am fighting to overcome my ingrained reactionary tendencies. Although problems arise seemingly over night, this is rarely the case and it is equally true that meaningful solutions must take time. However, whether its business, politics, health or romance, I am used to expecting immediate solutions. I attribute this largely to my American world view.

The most important period of my financial education came at the height of the dotcom boom, 1998-1999, a most American of occurrences. As a senior in high school, we engaged in the ages old ritual of choosing a stock portfolio and monitoring its fluctuations daily. At this time, the NYSE and NASDAQ were reaching stratospheric heights;  each subsequent trading day demolished the previous day’s market-topping record. The word “day trader,” which later came to mean bathrobe clad, quick buck mercenary, still had some allure as savvy investors won and lost tens of thousands of dollars from their living rooms.

In this era, any feat of financial legerdemain seemed not only appropriate, but encouraged. Technology–in the form of worthless dotcom stocks, as well as desktop trading software, offered anyone the chance to become a millionaire. Nothing could be further from the truth.

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Last night, my neighbor’s snores were loud enough to wake the dead. I almost to put on the ceiling fan to drown out the noise,  but as the morning sun warms the wet clay, the near silence of night has given way to din of the day’s activities. Washing, cooking and the feeding babies all contribute to the sonic landscape. My Bangalore is the sound of water sloshing from buckets onto concrete floors, the sweet smell of wet clay and burnt petrol fumes, fried onions and spices.  With the sun overhead, Bangalore is alive,  bodies are everywhere, as are cars and cows, restaurants and shrines.

Having lived here before, albeit briefly, I feel I know what to expect out of this city–crippling traffic, frenetic energy and a friendly, welcoming atmosphere. This time will be different, as I am here to stay. As such, I’m looking at the city with a different set of eyes, though they are cast upon a familiar scene. I’m living in the ultimate Bangalore bachelor pad with Anu, a venture capitalist and Ram, one of my business partners at Ixoraa Media. Our complex has all the amenities, including a swimming pool, tennis courts and a game room with ping pong tables, and billiards.

Just down the road from our apartment are gleaming glass complexes for Microsoft, IBM and Fidelity Investments (though very corporate, the structures would win architecture awards if they were in Sao Paulo). Just across a narrow dirt road is the old Bangalore City Airport (HAL). While I slept off the jet lag and exhaustion of 35 travel hours, two fighter jets used the nearby runway, creating an incredible roar. Already this morning there have been three. Tell me more …