There are several common greetings in India. Namaste or Namaskaar are classic Hindu/Hindi greetings. Salaam aleichem is a greeting for Muslims. Hello or How are you, sir, are also normal salutations. While traveling as a tourist I realized there was another greeting, mainly from kids, but acceptable from many different people: 5 Rupees, or 5 Rupees , Sir, or Please, 5 Rupees.
Prior to today, I thought of this simply as begging. Now I realize that this is just as normal a greeting as Namaste or Hello. I think if anyone asks me what I learned in India, it will be: Please, 5 Rupees. If they give me money and ask again, I will repeat.
After the Mosque we went to an archaeological "museum." This reminded me of Indian libraries. In this one story building surrounding a courtyard 6 rooms had carved stones from Andhra Pradesh history. One half of the rooms (3/6) had these stones labeled as to content and date (13th century to 18th century). The other half had no label at all and most of the unlabeled stones were lying on the floor.
Our guide, a teenager with broken English, would unlock the rooms and describe what he could of the contents. If we wanted to, we could touch the museum pieces. Only this teenager's semivigilant, and likely bribable, watch kept us from taking the pieces. In distinct contrast to the guide at the Mosque, he was overjoyed when we gave him Rs. 100's for his efforts. I hope he develops his English/knowledge for future tourists.
Our final site was Golkonda Fort. The inner fort, built on a strong hill, was the best dilapidated stronghold to which I have ever been. Shounye and I climbed all over the walls and buildings (no guard rails) . This was as close as I have gotten to hiking in India and it was real work.
As two obvious foreigners we were apparently a spectacle. I saw three other whites in the fort, but they were all part of a tour group. Shounye and I explored the fort and the hill it was on. We took our time and whenever we stopped to talk, a small crowd would gather about. On our climb down we were joined by a group of 5 kids, happy to see the two foreigners. We took a picture together although Shounye and I's legs were shaking for all our exercise.
At the base, when I went to use the bathroom, a worker motioned me over and unlocked the bathroom for honored guests. Surprisingly, the marble interior was spotless and even had toilet paper. Nonetheless, it still lacked Japanese flair.
Has anyone found a good US dealer of high-tech toilets?
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
A day as a Tourist - India 11
Sunday, I went traipsing around Hyderabad, with my erstwhile companion, the intern Shounye from Tokyo. Our plan was to go to three sites: 1) the royal retreat, Falaknuma Palace, 2) the emblem of Hyderabad, Charminar, and 3) the nigh impregnable fort, Golkonda. At 9am we set off on our day's gallivant.
For nearly three hours, by bus (to Secunderabad), by train (MMTS from Secunderabad to Falaknuma), and by foot (2km from station to palace) we trekked to Falaknuma. Interestingly, the doors on the bus and trains are never closed, to allow convenient exit points. We two, however, traveled nearly the full length of the metro transit system to arrive at our first destination,
where we found a day laborer foreman asking us whose permission we had to view the palace. Interestingly, Falaknuma Palace is private property. It also happens to be in the midst of 2yr long renovation. Therefore, no one can enter for tours, absent permission. Amused that the state tours still list this attraction and resolute in our tourist status, we continued on to Charminar,
where we got in line to climb the edifice. About five minutes in, a man came and told us to follow him; we were in the wrong line. The other line, which looked like the exit to me (and it was) had no one in it. We foreign tourists were shepherded to the front through the exit and had to pay Rs. 100 instead of the Indian cost of Rs. 8. This then gave us permission to continue to the head of the climbing queue. Not the best for intercultural relations but justifiable for paying 12.5x the entry fee.
Interestingly, Indians don't normally form lines. Usually they slowly press forward until a couple of hands with papers or money are all in front of the teller person. The teller sits at what Indians term a "cell" rather than desk or counter. I believe the only reason there was a line for Charminar, was because the 40-50 person throng awaiting entry into the monument in the center of a traffic circle would have spilled unacceptably into traffic.
Charminar, and its neighboring giant mosque, the Mecca Masjid were neat enough structures, but I really have no appreciation for the time and effort it took to build them at the time. The mosque took 77 years to build.
An English speaking Indian took Shounye and I on a whirlwind tour of the Mosque. I gave the man what I thought it was worth, Rs. 10. Shounye couldn't find his small bills and surprised me by giving the man Rs. 100. While this man was useful, I felt bad for future tourists that we had overpaid the huckster.
For nearly three hours, by bus (to Secunderabad), by train (MMTS from Secunderabad to Falaknuma), and by foot (2km from station to palace) we trekked to Falaknuma. Interestingly, the doors on the bus and trains are never closed, to allow convenient exit points. We two, however, traveled nearly the full length of the metro transit system to arrive at our first destination,
where we found a day laborer foreman asking us whose permission we had to view the palace. Interestingly, Falaknuma Palace is private property. It also happens to be in the midst of 2yr long renovation. Therefore, no one can enter for tours, absent permission. Amused that the state tours still list this attraction and resolute in our tourist status, we continued on to Charminar,
where we got in line to climb the edifice. About five minutes in, a man came and told us to follow him; we were in the wrong line. The other line, which looked like the exit to me (and it was) had no one in it. We foreign tourists were shepherded to the front through the exit and had to pay Rs. 100 instead of the Indian cost of Rs. 8. This then gave us permission to continue to the head of the climbing queue. Not the best for intercultural relations but justifiable for paying 12.5x the entry fee.
Interestingly, Indians don't normally form lines. Usually they slowly press forward until a couple of hands with papers or money are all in front of the teller person. The teller sits at what Indians term a "cell" rather than desk or counter. I believe the only reason there was a line for Charminar, was because the 40-50 person throng awaiting entry into the monument in the center of a traffic circle would have spilled unacceptably into traffic.
Charminar, and its neighboring giant mosque, the Mecca Masjid were neat enough structures, but I really have no appreciation for the time and effort it took to build them at the time. The mosque took 77 years to build.
An English speaking Indian took Shounye and I on a whirlwind tour of the Mosque. I gave the man what I thought it was worth, Rs. 10. Shounye couldn't find his small bills and surprised me by giving the man Rs. 100. While this man was useful, I felt bad for future tourists that we had overpaid the huckster.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Uruguay beats the US - World Cup Part 2
In protest to the US being beaten with Red Cards by the Uruguayan Ref, I give up my blog on India for yet another day. In other news, the US tied Italy 1-1.
Note: the World Cup is the most exciting thing of late. More adventures soon!
Note: the World Cup is the most exciting thing of late. More adventures soon!
Monday, June 12, 2006
We regret to inform you... - World Cup Part 1
One thing and one thing only has dominated my days since June 9th. Therefore, today I am ashamed of my country on the national stage. While Germany and so many other teams have played as though they knew where their teammates would place the ball, my home country, USA, does not. I regret to inform you that USA has lost 3-0 in their opening match to the Czechs.
This is a trivial setback, as the Greatest Nation will defeat Ghana and Italy to continue on to play the winner of Group F: Brasil. Crap.
This is a trivial setback, as the Greatest Nation will defeat Ghana and Italy to continue on to play the winner of Group F: Brasil. Crap.
Day-glo Orange / INP - India 10
This post is not about caution tape or warning signs. While some say that India could use this, I do not begrudge it for lacking warning signs in or on its boarders. Frankly, this is probably because I am tired of seeing warnings in the U.S.
This post is about a get-rich scheme of mine involving letter and road numbers. Much like the Alaska plan, I have no doubt in the efficacy of my get rich quick scheme. For today I fell afoul of the directional system of India.
My plan is a little like this:
Step 1: Get to where you need to be
...
Step 3: Profit!
The genesis of my plan occurred when I boarded a bus into the city, as per normal. I usually board a bus with one of three neighborhoods or 5 numbers on it. The bus I boarded had the city center listed instead of a neighborhood or number.
---
I tell the conductor I want to go to the city center. "We don't go there." So I get off at a transfer point and caught one of the 5 buses.
I get off the bus with a nice government worker who shepherds me through the security entrance so I can get to the office without walking an extra mile. Of course the government building I enter has no floor plan or directory.
So, I wander until I find where I think I want to go (standard Greg in India procedure) and then I ask a person behind a desk, "Is this where X progress report is?" They then bring me to someone else, who usually brings me to a third person. Only today the third person didn't show up, so at 11:30 rather than the normal start time of 10:30, I get to the records room. This works splendidly until the librarian has to go to the library he normally works at, which means I have to get permission from his superior to continue there.
The superior gives me permission, but tells me I should immediately talk to someone else. This someone else gives me a 3rd person in another building. This other building is only a few kilometers away, but no one can point it out on a map or give an address (because addresses don't exist, just landmarks). They can only give direction that it is behind Irrumzentale neighborhood and near the Taj Residency Hotel.
So I go to the Taj Residency, show them the office name (Engineer-in-Chief of the state rural water supply) and the Taj gives me bad directions. So I go to the nearby National government building with a rural water mandate and they give me bad directions. So I go to the nearby Taj Krishna (maybe they switched hotel names) and they direct me to the offices of the Metropolitan Water Supply rather than the offices of the Rural Water Supply. The Metropolitan Water Supply has no idea.
Then I walk to the center of the neighborhood and show my information to three irrigation or water coordination offices I come across. The first doesn't have anyone who speaks English. The second only knows it isn't in there building, and the third, who can't direct me offers to have his driver take me there.
His driver chooses to use his own motorcycle, so I hop on the back, and ride to the Rural Water Supply, within a few hundred meters of the Metropolitan Water Supply. To the MWS's credit, there were office buildings and apartments between us. Nonetheless, 3 hours to go a few kilometers is inexcusable.
Incidentally, there was some rioting here when helmet laws began to be enforced and about half the drivers darting between trucks and buses lack helmets.
Back to the main point-
Step 0: day-glo orange house and building numbers painted on the street (so people will see and use them) and numbered by 5's (for future construction possibilities). The first city that enforces this would have such a marked increase in navigability, it would be worth the paint. Buildings should have directories. And somewhere or other, the metropolitan area should publish a bus map.
These increases would allow everybody in India to reach Step 1, and then there is no telling how long until Step 3: Profit!
When I get back to my dorm, I go use the bathroom. The fluorescent light doesn't turn on when I switch it, so I flick it off and get shocked. It takes a moment to register that I am feeling pain and pull away. I swear for the first time in 2 months. I then flicked the switch on (down in India) with my toothpaste. After using the toilet I went to turn the light off (up), and guess what happens? My other arm starts jerking and I swear for the second time in as many months.
This post is about a get-rich scheme of mine involving letter and road numbers. Much like the Alaska plan, I have no doubt in the efficacy of my get rich quick scheme. For today I fell afoul of the directional system of India.
My plan is a little like this:
Step 1: Get to where you need to be
...
Step 3: Profit!
The genesis of my plan occurred when I boarded a bus into the city, as per normal. I usually board a bus with one of three neighborhoods or 5 numbers on it. The bus I boarded had the city center listed instead of a neighborhood or number.
---
I tell the conductor I want to go to the city center. "We don't go there." So I get off at a transfer point and caught one of the 5 buses.
I get off the bus with a nice government worker who shepherds me through the security entrance so I can get to the office without walking an extra mile. Of course the government building I enter has no floor plan or directory.
So, I wander until I find where I think I want to go (standard Greg in India procedure) and then I ask a person behind a desk, "Is this where X progress report is?" They then bring me to someone else, who usually brings me to a third person. Only today the third person didn't show up, so at 11:30 rather than the normal start time of 10:30, I get to the records room. This works splendidly until the librarian has to go to the library he normally works at, which means I have to get permission from his superior to continue there.
The superior gives me permission, but tells me I should immediately talk to someone else. This someone else gives me a 3rd person in another building. This other building is only a few kilometers away, but no one can point it out on a map or give an address (because addresses don't exist, just landmarks). They can only give direction that it is behind Irrumzentale neighborhood and near the Taj Residency Hotel.
So I go to the Taj Residency, show them the office name (Engineer-in-Chief of the state rural water supply) and the Taj gives me bad directions. So I go to the nearby National government building with a rural water mandate and they give me bad directions. So I go to the nearby Taj Krishna (maybe they switched hotel names) and they direct me to the offices of the Metropolitan Water Supply rather than the offices of the Rural Water Supply. The Metropolitan Water Supply has no idea.
Then I walk to the center of the neighborhood and show my information to three irrigation or water coordination offices I come across. The first doesn't have anyone who speaks English. The second only knows it isn't in there building, and the third, who can't direct me offers to have his driver take me there.
His driver chooses to use his own motorcycle, so I hop on the back, and ride to the Rural Water Supply, within a few hundred meters of the Metropolitan Water Supply. To the MWS's credit, there were office buildings and apartments between us. Nonetheless, 3 hours to go a few kilometers is inexcusable.
Incidentally, there was some rioting here when helmet laws began to be enforced and about half the drivers darting between trucks and buses lack helmets.
Back to the main point-
Step 0: day-glo orange house and building numbers painted on the street (so people will see and use them) and numbered by 5's (for future construction possibilities). The first city that enforces this would have such a marked increase in navigability, it would be worth the paint. Buildings should have directories. And somewhere or other, the metropolitan area should publish a bus map.
These increases would allow everybody in India to reach Step 1, and then there is no telling how long until Step 3: Profit!
When I get back to my dorm, I go use the bathroom. The fluorescent light doesn't turn on when I switch it, so I flick it off and get shocked. It takes a moment to register that I am feeling pain and pull away. I swear for the first time in 2 months. I then flicked the switch on (down in India) with my toothpaste. After using the toilet I went to turn the light off (up), and guess what happens? My other arm starts jerking and I swear for the second time in as many months.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Weather, Work, and Timothy - India 9
The rains are coming, I can tell by the smell and the wind in the air. The rain is nice and helps cool things down. Many people stand waiting underneath awnings, but despite getting used to wearing long sleeves and pants, walking/standing in the rain helps keep my temperature decent. Today was a cool day; it only got up to 94.
We went biking through the pastoral landscape of my campus. The farm roads are accessible and there is a large lake with pavilion. Around sunset the 90 or so peacocks are out and about. Unfortunately the mosquitos come at the same time. Todays rain kept the mosquitos down, but it also sent us packing. While the monsoons haven't yet started I could use wipers for my glasses.
The trees around my dorm are pregnant with mangoes. The wind causes them to drop. Workers pick them up and some pile them into bags. Many are sold and many go into pickles. For my part I have tried these unripened mangoes, and I have to agree they are better as pickles.
Last year, I am told, the mangoes were plump, yellow and brilliant. Therefore, this year the crop is not so good. Most of the mangoes are mainly pit with little flesh to enjoy. I am tempted to rename this blog about food, because that is all I seem to want to write about.
Three people have been given IV's for heat, one gets used to the heat, and then many forget to drink, or they have diuretics like alcohol in the evening after a day in the field. Hydration is particularly a challenge, because except at a nice restaurant: the poor sanitation encourages bottled water, which isnt always available. The common idea of a clean straw or spoon is a spotless one, even if that means cleaned by thumb, right in front of the patron. I am told that straws are recycled.
I keep bottled water in the library with me, although I sampled the water today at the Chinese restaurant. This afternoon I started making photocopies in data collection from annual reviews of the state of Andhra Pradesh's five year plan. I had a breakthrough when I found that these reviews list projects, how much was spent on them, whether they were completed, and what steps will be taken. These directly relate to my goal of finding government actions and commitment to drinking water on the Krishna river.
Conveniently, this morning I hitched a ride towards town with the head librarian of ICRISAT. I have often tended towards librarians and this one is no exception. After explaining my research he told me that if I need a document in any library in Hyderabad, he would pass my name as a contact. This is useful because I believe the annual reviews of Andhra Pradesh are mostly in the Secretariat Library, which is only somewhat open to the public. I will head there or to a university library tomorrow. Is anyone else's summer being spent in libraries?
While taking the shuttle home from nearby the Hyderabad International School, a waiter riding the bus gave me a Christian Bible quote tract. For the most part, humdrum except that it quotes from I Tim. I had thought I read the Catholic Bible, which includes more than the typical protestant Bible, but I didn't recall a gospel of Timothy. I wonder if my copy didn't have it due to its discredited nature. More likely, I simply disregarded the Epistles, as they are not my favorite part of the Bible. For a while though, I had wondered if the Indians had extra parts to their Bible and not just been the recipients of visiting Apostles.
We went biking through the pastoral landscape of my campus. The farm roads are accessible and there is a large lake with pavilion. Around sunset the 90 or so peacocks are out and about. Unfortunately the mosquitos come at the same time. Todays rain kept the mosquitos down, but it also sent us packing. While the monsoons haven't yet started I could use wipers for my glasses.
The trees around my dorm are pregnant with mangoes. The wind causes them to drop. Workers pick them up and some pile them into bags. Many are sold and many go into pickles. For my part I have tried these unripened mangoes, and I have to agree they are better as pickles.
Last year, I am told, the mangoes were plump, yellow and brilliant. Therefore, this year the crop is not so good. Most of the mangoes are mainly pit with little flesh to enjoy. I am tempted to rename this blog about food, because that is all I seem to want to write about.
Three people have been given IV's for heat, one gets used to the heat, and then many forget to drink, or they have diuretics like alcohol in the evening after a day in the field. Hydration is particularly a challenge, because except at a nice restaurant: the poor sanitation encourages bottled water, which isnt always available. The common idea of a clean straw or spoon is a spotless one, even if that means cleaned by thumb, right in front of the patron. I am told that straws are recycled.
I keep bottled water in the library with me, although I sampled the water today at the Chinese restaurant. This afternoon I started making photocopies in data collection from annual reviews of the state of Andhra Pradesh's five year plan. I had a breakthrough when I found that these reviews list projects, how much was spent on them, whether they were completed, and what steps will be taken. These directly relate to my goal of finding government actions and commitment to drinking water on the Krishna river.
Conveniently, this morning I hitched a ride towards town with the head librarian of ICRISAT. I have often tended towards librarians and this one is no exception. After explaining my research he told me that if I need a document in any library in Hyderabad, he would pass my name as a contact. This is useful because I believe the annual reviews of Andhra Pradesh are mostly in the Secretariat Library, which is only somewhat open to the public. I will head there or to a university library tomorrow. Is anyone else's summer being spent in libraries?
While taking the shuttle home from nearby the Hyderabad International School, a waiter riding the bus gave me a Christian Bible quote tract. For the most part, humdrum except that it quotes from I Tim. I had thought I read the Catholic Bible, which includes more than the typical protestant Bible, but I didn't recall a gospel of Timothy. I wonder if my copy didn't have it due to its discredited nature. More likely, I simply disregarded the Epistles, as they are not my favorite part of the Bible. For a while though, I had wondered if the Indians had extra parts to their Bible and not just been the recipients of visiting Apostles.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
The 5 P's of India (and a bit about work)- India 8
So I wanted to wait abit until I had some experience outside the UN/ICRISAT campus to post about. This week I went 35km to the Medak District police headquarters in order to register as a resident foreigner. While this was a routine registration requiring a single signature, we got a bit of a runaround and had to wait 3 hours.
Later this week I went in to the City Central Library (CCL) to view the Andhra Pradesh Gazetteer (equivalent to the Federal Register) and several books listing which laws were in effect, because neither were available historically online. We also went to see the library minister to get permission to use a camara (their are no accessible copy machines). This incured a 3 hour wait.
My point? In India all things work given the proper balance of the the four 5 P's: Politeness
Patience, Persistence, Pushiness, People.
People bow, bring you drinks, and are more than happy to show you to a seat; however, once you are in the seat, nothing will necessarily happen. Perhaps you need to speak to the right person, need anyone's letter of recommendation, or simply need to wait. I am told that many things which require 5 min or less of work take days or weeks, and if you don't call/come again (thank you), people believe you don't care enough for them to complete the task.
People are key. Just as in the US, if you drop the right name, you are in. Sometimes any name will do, and now I always carry a letter of recommendation. Other times I need to have my boss call a friend, who calls a friend, and then all doors are open. With so many people in India, there is no surprise doors are closed. After all, who can you trust?
The reason I am writing all of this, is because the project I work on is a sensitive topic. Because water is a limited resource, any allocation of already allocated water equals conflict. Therefore I tell officials nothing about other projects between states or cities on the Krishna river, but instead simply indicate my focus on urban drinking water.
At this point my project involves going into the city for a couple of weeks to collect data. If nothing else, this alone is fun. I get to leave the artificial atmosphere of the campus and experience India.
Later this week I went in to the City Central Library (CCL) to view the Andhra Pradesh Gazetteer (equivalent to the Federal Register) and several books listing which laws were in effect, because neither were available historically online. We also went to see the library minister to get permission to use a camara (their are no accessible copy machines). This incured a 3 hour wait.
My point? In India all things work given the proper balance of the the four 5 P's: Politeness
Patience, Persistence, Pushiness, People.
People bow, bring you drinks, and are more than happy to show you to a seat; however, once you are in the seat, nothing will necessarily happen. Perhaps you need to speak to the right person, need anyone's letter of recommendation, or simply need to wait. I am told that many things which require 5 min or less of work take days or weeks, and if you don't call/come again (thank you), people believe you don't care enough for them to complete the task.
People are key. Just as in the US, if you drop the right name, you are in. Sometimes any name will do, and now I always carry a letter of recommendation. Other times I need to have my boss call a friend, who calls a friend, and then all doors are open. With so many people in India, there is no surprise doors are closed. After all, who can you trust?
The reason I am writing all of this, is because the project I work on is a sensitive topic. Because water is a limited resource, any allocation of already allocated water equals conflict. Therefore I tell officials nothing about other projects between states or cities on the Krishna river, but instead simply indicate my focus on urban drinking water.
At this point my project involves going into the city for a couple of weeks to collect data. If nothing else, this alone is fun. I get to leave the artificial atmosphere of the campus and experience India.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Sunday with Ramesh and Satish - India 7
Sunday, I decided to take it easy and recover from my trip to KFC. The only plan I had was to go to Chandinagar and make 5 passport photos for my police registration. Around 3 or 4, as the day was cooling, I went to the bus stop at the liquor store just off campus and caught a bus to the closest town.
For those who are unfamiliar with buses in third world countries, catching a bus in India is easier said than done. Buses may have a short (5sec) stop but usually they just slow down. This is because the bus usually only has men getting on or off and the bus is already packed. In Andhra Pradesh the first 6 rows of every bus are reserved for women. The back is packed with men, some of which are just barely in the stairwell. The 8th bus that came by (3min) had room enough for me to squeeze on.
5 Rupees later I arrived in town, outside the only supermarket (the size of a large 7-eleven). Like many shops it was nestled in an open concrete 3-story mall (1 floor sunken). Not seeing a photo-booth I wandered into some back streets until I came to a photo-shop.
I talked with the proprietor, who spoke well-enunciated English, to determine I would pay 60 rupees for 8 passport size glossies, made with a digital camera. He told me it would be five minutes until his brother-in-law, the owner of the shop arrived. We chatted about work and education. He introduced himself as Ramesh.
A few minutes later, his brother-in-law came in and entered the studio. Apparently this place specialized in glamour shots and portraits, which were posted on the walls about the place. My passport photos presented a special challenge, as I wanted a white background and was wearing a white shirt. As the brother-in-law made adjustments, several family members came out of the woodwork.
Ramesh, told me of how he was a math teacher in a nearby village, and that he was on holiday. Satish, another young English speaker, told of his love of American movies, and how he had just completed his M.S. in Computer Science. His job? Computer game gold farming to sell to rich Westerners in the game World of Warcraft. He was happy to practice English and hoped to get a new job.
Once my pictures were done, 45 min and a free cup of Fanta later, Ramesh and Satish wanted to know if they could get pictures with me. They had portraits made with their American friend. Afterwards they offered to be tour guides or otherwise help me, and practice their English. When I mentioned that I needed to buy a mosquito net, we spent an hour scouring the furniture and clothing stores until we found one.
Not only did they find me a mosquito net, they gave me their mobile (cel) numbers. I told them I planned to call them next weekend to see about going about Hyderabad with them. They offered to take me to the church where their family was from and introduce me to the Bishop. I think I will have to take up their offer. With "Best wishes!" and a "Cheers!" they got me aboard my bus. I returned to ICRISAT 2 friends richer.
My German friend Phillip says the best time to travel is when you have time to go where the currents may take you.
For those who are unfamiliar with buses in third world countries, catching a bus in India is easier said than done. Buses may have a short (5sec) stop but usually they just slow down. This is because the bus usually only has men getting on or off and the bus is already packed. In Andhra Pradesh the first 6 rows of every bus are reserved for women. The back is packed with men, some of which are just barely in the stairwell. The 8th bus that came by (3min) had room enough for me to squeeze on.
5 Rupees later I arrived in town, outside the only supermarket (the size of a large 7-eleven). Like many shops it was nestled in an open concrete 3-story mall (1 floor sunken). Not seeing a photo-booth I wandered into some back streets until I came to a photo-shop.
I talked with the proprietor, who spoke well-enunciated English, to determine I would pay 60 rupees for 8 passport size glossies, made with a digital camera. He told me it would be five minutes until his brother-in-law, the owner of the shop arrived. We chatted about work and education. He introduced himself as Ramesh.
A few minutes later, his brother-in-law came in and entered the studio. Apparently this place specialized in glamour shots and portraits, which were posted on the walls about the place. My passport photos presented a special challenge, as I wanted a white background and was wearing a white shirt. As the brother-in-law made adjustments, several family members came out of the woodwork.
Ramesh, told me of how he was a math teacher in a nearby village, and that he was on holiday. Satish, another young English speaker, told of his love of American movies, and how he had just completed his M.S. in Computer Science. His job? Computer game gold farming to sell to rich Westerners in the game World of Warcraft. He was happy to practice English and hoped to get a new job.
Once my pictures were done, 45 min and a free cup of Fanta later, Ramesh and Satish wanted to know if they could get pictures with me. They had portraits made with their American friend. Afterwards they offered to be tour guides or otherwise help me, and practice their English. When I mentioned that I needed to buy a mosquito net, we spent an hour scouring the furniture and clothing stores until we found one.
Not only did they find me a mosquito net, they gave me their mobile (cel) numbers. I told them I planned to call them next weekend to see about going about Hyderabad with them. They offered to take me to the church where their family was from and introduce me to the Bishop. I think I will have to take up their offer. With "Best wishes!" and a "Cheers!" they got me aboard my bus. I returned to ICRISAT 2 friends richer.
My German friend Phillip says the best time to travel is when you have time to go where the currents may take you.
Saturday in the City - India 6
Amu, a coworker from South Africa, turned 24 Saturday. Consequently, we went to a uniquely Indian restaurant that would nonetheless to remind her of home. We went to a place advertised for 3 weeks in the paper. We went to KFC.
Many of you have traveled throughout the world and have seen that lovely conspiracy of American culture: exported chain food stores. Between McDonald's, YUM Foods (KFC, Pizza Hut, T-Bell), Subway, and Burger King, I could travel the world and stick to "safe" food. While not entirely ubiquitous here in India, it doesn't take much to find one in Hyderabad. Although not my cup of tea, a friend here on a medical vacation is not only recognized at Subway, they know her order.
Each of these chains is subtly changed for the local consumer. Pizza Hut, where I intend to eat, has several varieties of Indian spiced pizzas as well as traditional Indian pizza. McD's serves neither pig nor cow, unless one refers to the occasional consumer. None offer free drink refills.
Amu bought six of us a family feast, including "Hot and Tasty" chicken, cole slaw, and french fries. While indicating that her friends would make fun of her for going to a "high school" restaurant, she was happy to get leftovers. Whats more, because it was her birthday, the staff all came out. They told Amu to stand on a chair and tell everyone in the restaurant that it was her Birthday. With a whistle, the staff then proceeded to pat their legs twice and chant "Happy Birthday, Amu!" three times. Even the Indians in the restaurant were surprised.
After our semi-service meal (after you bring your food from the counter the staff will get anything for you), our hired driver (7hours $20) took us to "Our Place" an atmospheric oasis of trees, manicured grass, and terraced seating secluded between buildings in the city. Not only did they breakout the red carpet, but the low lighting and live music gave great ambiance. Following the example of nearby tables, we (not me) got out our mobile phones and played games. My Indian guide and guru, Valentine Gandhi, had Mechwarrior on his.
Many of you have traveled throughout the world and have seen that lovely conspiracy of American culture: exported chain food stores. Between McDonald's, YUM Foods (KFC, Pizza Hut, T-Bell), Subway, and Burger King, I could travel the world and stick to "safe" food. While not entirely ubiquitous here in India, it doesn't take much to find one in Hyderabad. Although not my cup of tea, a friend here on a medical vacation is not only recognized at Subway, they know her order.
Each of these chains is subtly changed for the local consumer. Pizza Hut, where I intend to eat, has several varieties of Indian spiced pizzas as well as traditional Indian pizza. McD's serves neither pig nor cow, unless one refers to the occasional consumer. None offer free drink refills.
Amu bought six of us a family feast, including "Hot and Tasty" chicken, cole slaw, and french fries. While indicating that her friends would make fun of her for going to a "high school" restaurant, she was happy to get leftovers. Whats more, because it was her birthday, the staff all came out. They told Amu to stand on a chair and tell everyone in the restaurant that it was her Birthday. With a whistle, the staff then proceeded to pat their legs twice and chant "Happy Birthday, Amu!" three times. Even the Indians in the restaurant were surprised.
After our semi-service meal (after you bring your food from the counter the staff will get anything for you), our hired driver (7hours $20) took us to "Our Place" an atmospheric oasis of trees, manicured grass, and terraced seating secluded between buildings in the city. Not only did they breakout the red carpet, but the low lighting and live music gave great ambiance. Following the example of nearby tables, we (not me) got out our mobile phones and played games. My Indian guide and guru, Valentine Gandhi, had Mechwarrior on his.
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