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.
Friday, May 26, 2006
A bit about ICRISAT / IWMI - India 5
The ICRISAT campus is a fenced in several acres separated from India. Not only are the grounds clean, but they also smell good (or so I thought)! Most of the campus is research fields (30,000ha), covered by the watchful eye of a 5 or 6 story water/guard tower. In addition to crop fields, a small international neighborhood (20 houses), a larger Indian neighborhood (45 houses) and 5 apartment buildings populate the campus. A covered walkway connects a further eight research labs, 2 auditoriums, and a 4 story cavernous exhibition hall, where local Indians are taught agricultural techniques (eg. growing millet underneath the trees of an orchard).
ICRISAT stands for International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics
IWMI is part of an international U.N. consulting group, which has offices in Sri Lanka, Ghana, Thailand, Nigeria, and India. Except for the India and Sri Lanka offices, there has been vast shifts in location of offices in the past few years. India, however, remains cheap enough that this location has grown. Here at ICRISAT, IWMI is a standoffish partner. While IWMI does coordinate with ICRISAT, and rents a building, IWMI is over 50% foreign nationals, as where ICRISAT is about 10%.
IWMI stands for International Water Management Institute
Also on campus there is a clubhouse with a minimal exercise room consisting of a pulley weight system, a treadmill, and an exercise bike. They also have table tennis. I joined $5 for the summer. For Indians it is $3 for the year. This also gives access to the pool, which is rather crucial. The temperature gets up to 100ºF most days. Three of the ten or so foreigners, who I have met, have had to go to the hospital for heat stroke/dehydration.
The pool is also the only place on campus that serves Kingfisher.
Most of the younger people living on campus, PhD researchers and post-docs, regularly eat in the canteen. Some of the professionals hire cooks to come in and they avoid the cafeteria. The canteen has limited hours, but also acts as a grocery store, for those who don't want to take bus (Rs7) or auto (Rs7 if you catch one with someone it it-Rs25 on your own) to town.
I enjoy the food at the canteen, but then I would. I was recognized by a South Indian as regularly choosing the spiciest food there. The food has some interesting characteristics, lots of rice or flatbreads (Chapathi, Roti, Paratha) and at lunch always some kind of biryani. In addition a soup, chicken or lamb curry, vegetarian curry, and fruit juice (mango, orange, pineapple) are each available at lunch and dinner. Dinner usually has a western dish (e.g. fish and chips, vegetarian cordon bleu).
Breakfast has papaya, hardboiled eggs, croissants, spicy chickpea sauces w/flatbreads, omelettes by request, and corn flakes. Milk is served warm here. Although refrigerated it is reheated and released through a spigot. The cream has a tendency to jam the spigot, causing hot sprays of milk to lash out at the unweary breakfaster. To remedy this, I have purchased a liter bag of milk and keep it cool in the dorms in a shared (8 person) fridge.
There are no green vegetables. A salad plate (Rs. 8) contains 2-3 slices of onion, 2 slices of tomato, and 2 slices of cucumber (green removed). At some point I will have to go to a western restaurant with a clean salad.
Coffee and Tea (Rs.4) are available and drunk with every meal. I am strange in that I have neither. Sodas are available, and a German here has a propensity for mixing fanta and cola to make spritzi or 7up and kingfisher to make radler.
ICRISAT stands for International Crops Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics
IWMI is part of an international U.N. consulting group, which has offices in Sri Lanka, Ghana, Thailand, Nigeria, and India. Except for the India and Sri Lanka offices, there has been vast shifts in location of offices in the past few years. India, however, remains cheap enough that this location has grown. Here at ICRISAT, IWMI is a standoffish partner. While IWMI does coordinate with ICRISAT, and rents a building, IWMI is over 50% foreign nationals, as where ICRISAT is about 10%.
IWMI stands for International Water Management Institute
Also on campus there is a clubhouse with a minimal exercise room consisting of a pulley weight system, a treadmill, and an exercise bike. They also have table tennis. I joined $5 for the summer. For Indians it is $3 for the year. This also gives access to the pool, which is rather crucial. The temperature gets up to 100ºF most days. Three of the ten or so foreigners, who I have met, have had to go to the hospital for heat stroke/dehydration.
The pool is also the only place on campus that serves Kingfisher.
Most of the younger people living on campus, PhD researchers and post-docs, regularly eat in the canteen. Some of the professionals hire cooks to come in and they avoid the cafeteria. The canteen has limited hours, but also acts as a grocery store, for those who don't want to take bus (Rs7) or auto (Rs7 if you catch one with someone it it-Rs25 on your own) to town.
I enjoy the food at the canteen, but then I would. I was recognized by a South Indian as regularly choosing the spiciest food there. The food has some interesting characteristics, lots of rice or flatbreads (Chapathi, Roti, Paratha) and at lunch always some kind of biryani. In addition a soup, chicken or lamb curry, vegetarian curry, and fruit juice (mango, orange, pineapple) are each available at lunch and dinner. Dinner usually has a western dish (e.g. fish and chips, vegetarian cordon bleu).
Breakfast has papaya, hardboiled eggs, croissants, spicy chickpea sauces w/flatbreads, omelettes by request, and corn flakes. Milk is served warm here. Although refrigerated it is reheated and released through a spigot. The cream has a tendency to jam the spigot, causing hot sprays of milk to lash out at the unweary breakfaster. To remedy this, I have purchased a liter bag of milk and keep it cool in the dorms in a shared (8 person) fridge.
There are no green vegetables. A salad plate (Rs. 8) contains 2-3 slices of onion, 2 slices of tomato, and 2 slices of cucumber (green removed). At some point I will have to go to a western restaurant with a clean salad.
Coffee and Tea (Rs.4) are available and drunk with every meal. I am strange in that I have neither. Sodas are available, and a German here has a propensity for mixing fanta and cola to make spritzi or 7up and kingfisher to make radler.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Hyderabad for a bit - India 4
I parted ways with Ashish at 6:30am to wander Hyderabad in the early morning. While I should have had all the contact info for work written down, I foolishly expected things to go according to plan. I wandered past Ek Minar Mosque (Greg's translation: One Minaret) and found that rather than frequent taxi's soliciting, I had several people including an old man on foot encouraging me to go to whatever Hotel I was near (for their commission of course). I briefly considered spending $6 to get a hotel and drop off my baggage, but I resolutely decided that I could wait until 9 or 10 when I estimated that the internet cafe's would open.
Consequently, I wandered down neighborhood passages bedecked in backpack and bag, unexpected around every corner I turned. As I wandered past a row of milk cattle, two guys on a bike warned me I was walking to a dead end. I decided to walk it anyway, and was rewarded to see a clean part of town, not trashed because there were not enough people to trash it. Similarly, I stumbled into a open play area next to the local police station. One girl was rollerskating in lazy circles on the blacktop; she only had one rollerskate.
Keeping the streets clean are mostly women and some men, sweeping dirt and refuse into piles, preferably not in front of their shop/house/place on street. The area only remains clean until a couple of vehicles drive by, carrying a pile of dust with them. I can see why female empowerment can drastically affect impoverished areas by preventing futile work.
By the time 9 and 10 am rolled around, none of the I-net cafes had opened up. I decided to take matters into my own hands, but was quickly approached by young hipster who told me I should pay no more than Rs.20 to get to the British Library. Subsequently, no autorickshaw(auto) driver knew of this place, could understand my map, or knew anywhere near there. It took a group of five boys to tell the auto-wallah where I wanted to go.
I was dropped off at the local tourism bureau near the library, so I stepped into the bureau and inquired about internet. They sent me across the street to the state government headquarters. The guards there attempted 3x to persuade me to go back across the street to the tourism bureau. Once through, I walked to the state tourism office, where I was told to wait so I could use an Asst Director's computer to check email. Once he returned, a flunky was made to give me his computer, where I found my boss at ICRISAT's number. The govy then dialed my boss, and ordered me an auto for 40km at a price I could never get: Rs. 200.
I was told to wait 1 hour and was given every English tourism pamphlet in the state. Armed with my literature I was ushered to the auto and set on my way with a driver who did not know where our destination was. We stopped twice and picked up a hitchiker in order to find our way. Once on the UN campus, the driver then tried to scam me for another Rs. 50, which was enough (>$1) that I was alerted to his scam and paid only the agreed upon $4.50.
ICRISAT fed me lunch ($.85), settled me into an airconditioned furnished room with netted
veranda ($68/month), and enrolled me in the campus fitness club ($5 for the summer). While my alternative plan to write a book and see the islands by working as a dance partner/evening entertainment on a cruise ship remains, there would be far less distraction moving to ICRISAT campus in India. Although, I suspect either way I would have to do some work in order to have the cheap berth. Fortunately, today is Saturday, so I have time to relax.
Consequently, I wandered down neighborhood passages bedecked in backpack and bag, unexpected around every corner I turned. As I wandered past a row of milk cattle, two guys on a bike warned me I was walking to a dead end. I decided to walk it anyway, and was rewarded to see a clean part of town, not trashed because there were not enough people to trash it. Similarly, I stumbled into a open play area next to the local police station. One girl was rollerskating in lazy circles on the blacktop; she only had one rollerskate.
Keeping the streets clean are mostly women and some men, sweeping dirt and refuse into piles, preferably not in front of their shop/house/place on street. The area only remains clean until a couple of vehicles drive by, carrying a pile of dust with them. I can see why female empowerment can drastically affect impoverished areas by preventing futile work.
By the time 9 and 10 am rolled around, none of the I-net cafes had opened up. I decided to take matters into my own hands, but was quickly approached by young hipster who told me I should pay no more than Rs.20 to get to the British Library. Subsequently, no autorickshaw(auto) driver knew of this place, could understand my map, or knew anywhere near there. It took a group of five boys to tell the auto-wallah where I wanted to go.
I was dropped off at the local tourism bureau near the library, so I stepped into the bureau and inquired about internet. They sent me across the street to the state government headquarters. The guards there attempted 3x to persuade me to go back across the street to the tourism bureau. Once through, I walked to the state tourism office, where I was told to wait so I could use an Asst Director's computer to check email. Once he returned, a flunky was made to give me his computer, where I found my boss at ICRISAT's number. The govy then dialed my boss, and ordered me an auto for 40km at a price I could never get: Rs. 200.
I was told to wait 1 hour and was given every English tourism pamphlet in the state. Armed with my literature I was ushered to the auto and set on my way with a driver who did not know where our destination was. We stopped twice and picked up a hitchiker in order to find our way. Once on the UN campus, the driver then tried to scam me for another Rs. 50, which was enough (>$1) that I was alerted to his scam and paid only the agreed upon $4.50.
ICRISAT fed me lunch ($.85), settled me into an airconditioned furnished room with netted
veranda ($68/month), and enrolled me in the campus fitness club ($5 for the summer). While my alternative plan to write a book and see the islands by working as a dance partner/evening entertainment on a cruise ship remains, there would be far less distraction moving to ICRISAT campus in India. Although, I suspect either way I would have to do some work in order to have the cheap berth. Fortunately, today is Saturday, so I have time to relax.
Last Train to Hyderabad - India 3
The next day I took the last, and only, train to Hyderabad from Victoria Station. For $27 I had an overnight 2nd class AC bunk, in a compartment shared with a navy officer and his wife (posted to the command post in Hyderabad) and a tech worker Ashish. For the most part the accommodations were acceptable, similar to overnight trains in Europe, only having salespeople hawking their wares at regularly intervals.
In addition to the standard lunch and dinner offers, there was a tea purveyor (mostly sugar and milk), a soup salesman (Dixie cup full of spiced tomato soup), a water salesman, a softdrink guy and a candy vendor (mostly varieties of nut brittles). Furthermore, a magazine salesmen, a book salesmen, and two kids with children's books also came through. After the first two hours of 10 minute solicitations, we closed the curtains to our cabin. This, surprisingly, stopped all solicitation. I had come to believe that Indians were more persistent.
Ashish, 23, was happy to talk with me in English. Among other things, he indicated that most people working in Mumbai would prefer to work in another city. This is due to the overcrowding of the Mumbai area. The geography is very similar to San Francisco, only it lacks bay bridges. Ashish was leaving Mumbai for a couple of months to work on the far side of Hyderabad in a coastal beach/port town.
Because much of India's growth is through knowledge service, there isn't much need to concentrate people in Mumbai. Aside from Mumbai's high concentration of intellectuals, there is little to recommend working there. Mumbai has no more technology than most other cities, so hopefully the lower cost will fuel growth in other cities. Although, even slower growth won't help Mumbai's overcrowding.
Ashish indicated a few other things to me. Much of his generation enjoyed American news: NYTimes and Washington Post. Due to high competition the typical India works 6 days a week (Ashish worked 7, although not by choice). Due to India's overpopulation students commonly work 12 hour days. Ouch.
In addition to the standard lunch and dinner offers, there was a tea purveyor (mostly sugar and milk), a soup salesman (Dixie cup full of spiced tomato soup), a water salesman, a softdrink guy and a candy vendor (mostly varieties of nut brittles). Furthermore, a magazine salesmen, a book salesmen, and two kids with children's books also came through. After the first two hours of 10 minute solicitations, we closed the curtains to our cabin. This, surprisingly, stopped all solicitation. I had come to believe that Indians were more persistent.
Ashish, 23, was happy to talk with me in English. Among other things, he indicated that most people working in Mumbai would prefer to work in another city. This is due to the overcrowding of the Mumbai area. The geography is very similar to San Francisco, only it lacks bay bridges. Ashish was leaving Mumbai for a couple of months to work on the far side of Hyderabad in a coastal beach/port town.
Because much of India's growth is through knowledge service, there isn't much need to concentrate people in Mumbai. Aside from Mumbai's high concentration of intellectuals, there is little to recommend working there. Mumbai has no more technology than most other cities, so hopefully the lower cost will fuel growth in other cities. Although, even slower growth won't help Mumbai's overcrowding.
Ashish indicated a few other things to me. Much of his generation enjoyed American news: NYTimes and Washington Post. Due to high competition the typical India works 6 days a week (Ashish worked 7, although not by choice). Due to India's overpopulation students commonly work 12 hour days. Ouch.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Mumbai Wandering - India 2
As I continued through Mumbai, I came directly to a cricket stadium. There was a team practicing there. And then I came to another field with a cricket team practicing. A short walk later, I saw another cricket team practicing. Around the corner from that was a 4th cricket team practicing. I get the feeling that Indians enjoy cricket.
The last cricket team was practicing at the edge of a construction site. Like most of Asia, the construction site was braced through many wooden poles. What was unusual about this urban construction site was the lack of both netting and pigeons. The poles were completely bare of birds.
All the pigeons covered one small fenced in area nearby. There was barely enough space between the birds to see what the birds were walking on. This little space was completely filled with birdseed, perhaps a couple inches thick. While this feeder might not be for construction, it prevented the birds from resting there.
In addition to Cricket teams, Mumbai has a beach. It is a city beach in a bay, so one would expect that only the poor would go in the dirty water. Yet again Bombay had a surprise: there were Kite Surfers renting boards for $120/hour. In addition, a few wave runners were zipping around. On the other end of the beach, a couple families, who apparently lived on the beach, were cooking dinner and fixing wooden boats. At the end of the beach the edge of the roadway was reinforced with concrete polyhedrons reminiscent of water mines.
For my evening entertainment, I decided to make a pilgrimage. Haji Ali's tomb is across a causeway which is covered in water at high tide. Yet during low tide, when I crossed, it was covered in both merchants and beggers. While I later saw a beggar drag himself, it appeared as though many were too malformed in arms and legs to move. Most had at least one appendage withered useless. I am told that many religious structures have such beggers outside.
The polished marble entrance to the tomb was slimy, although not from kissing, but still slippery under the feet. While, some people were there simply to watch the beautiful sunset from the western edge of the city, the two Rajasthani salesmen and I were there to look at the tomb. The unremarkable marble dome outside was covered in discoball mirror pieces on the inside. The tomb was brightly lit and draped in prayer cloths. Not bad for an Islamic sage.
On my way back from the tomb I had my first, "I lived in America, so give me some money interaction." John was more than happy to tell me about his time as a cab driver before asking me for 2x what I had paid for dinner. I rebuffed him, but it has encouraged me to tell people I am British (if they look harmless) or German (if I don't want to talk/can't understand them). So far no similar person has asked for money.
Later that evening I purchased some light reading: the Mahabharata (1700pg Indian epic)
The last cricket team was practicing at the edge of a construction site. Like most of Asia, the construction site was braced through many wooden poles. What was unusual about this urban construction site was the lack of both netting and pigeons. The poles were completely bare of birds.
All the pigeons covered one small fenced in area nearby. There was barely enough space between the birds to see what the birds were walking on. This little space was completely filled with birdseed, perhaps a couple inches thick. While this feeder might not be for construction, it prevented the birds from resting there.
In addition to Cricket teams, Mumbai has a beach. It is a city beach in a bay, so one would expect that only the poor would go in the dirty water. Yet again Bombay had a surprise: there were Kite Surfers renting boards for $120/hour. In addition, a few wave runners were zipping around. On the other end of the beach, a couple families, who apparently lived on the beach, were cooking dinner and fixing wooden boats. At the end of the beach the edge of the roadway was reinforced with concrete polyhedrons reminiscent of water mines.
For my evening entertainment, I decided to make a pilgrimage. Haji Ali's tomb is across a causeway which is covered in water at high tide. Yet during low tide, when I crossed, it was covered in both merchants and beggers. While I later saw a beggar drag himself, it appeared as though many were too malformed in arms and legs to move. Most had at least one appendage withered useless. I am told that many religious structures have such beggers outside.
The polished marble entrance to the tomb was slimy, although not from kissing, but still slippery under the feet. While, some people were there simply to watch the beautiful sunset from the western edge of the city, the two Rajasthani salesmen and I were there to look at the tomb. The unremarkable marble dome outside was covered in discoball mirror pieces on the inside. The tomb was brightly lit and draped in prayer cloths. Not bad for an Islamic sage.
On my way back from the tomb I had my first, "I lived in America, so give me some money interaction." John was more than happy to tell me about his time as a cab driver before asking me for 2x what I had paid for dinner. I rebuffed him, but it has encouraged me to tell people I am British (if they look harmless) or German (if I don't want to talk/can't understand them). So far no similar person has asked for money.
Later that evening I purchased some light reading: the Mahabharata (1700pg Indian epic)
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Bombay - India 1
Clearing the airport and customs was a snap. Finding an ATM, no problem. Trying to get Rupees from an empty ATM: Problem. There is a bank across the street from the airport (no money exchange person working) and a travelex back on the other side of security (who had given directions to the ATM). So there I was in India, without a Rupee to my name.
Thankfully, the Westerner with whom I had chatted, had a car waiting to take her to the Hotel, and the person whose name was on the card the driver was holding hadn't shown up. So I spent the first night shacked at the Leela, which casually accepted my American credit card, fed me a buffet breakfast, portered my luggage, gave me all manner of toiletries (which I hadn't packed) and even started me off with business contacts. I love 5 star hotels.
John Greyman, South African, Jewish, Steel Purveyor and I had breakfast together. While I didn't receive a firm offer of employment on the spot, I was encouraged to meet him for dinner. This put me in a dilemma, particularly because the breakfast buffet included South Indian, North Indian, Bacon, Roast Beef, and all manner of conceivable breakfast. I had a feeling that Muslim/Hindu India might be a bit short on the Bacon and Beef. However, I had to throw caution to the wind, and decided to spend the day running around Bombay.
So I passed through 30 minutes of slums and 10 minutes of middle class on my way into the city. The slums, however, did have several places selling phone services and/or faxes and copying. I had to wonder what people would fax or copy anything in the dirt poor (dirt rich) slums.
After purchasing a train ticket to Hyderabad using hard currency on the tourist quota (1 person line rather than taking a number for one of 40 tellers), I set off through the city.
Many people say the crowds or the poverty are what first strikes them in India. For me it was the Dollar Store variety in the stands lining every walkway. Not only were the stores selling everything, but people with a cart setup next to a pillar sold everything as well. Fortunately for me, my hotel covered everything I needed, so I simply swept past and decided to wander West.
Thats when the poverty hit me. Its no problem to avoid kids begging or older people asking for money, but when they grab your arm and walk with you continually asking, well, I had to give the poor kid my scary face, the kind when you were little and your parents were mad at you. Instantly, the kid released my arm, looked back once, and went away.
Thankfully, the Westerner with whom I had chatted, had a car waiting to take her to the Hotel, and the person whose name was on the card the driver was holding hadn't shown up. So I spent the first night shacked at the Leela, which casually accepted my American credit card, fed me a buffet breakfast, portered my luggage, gave me all manner of toiletries (which I hadn't packed) and even started me off with business contacts. I love 5 star hotels.
John Greyman, South African, Jewish, Steel Purveyor and I had breakfast together. While I didn't receive a firm offer of employment on the spot, I was encouraged to meet him for dinner. This put me in a dilemma, particularly because the breakfast buffet included South Indian, North Indian, Bacon, Roast Beef, and all manner of conceivable breakfast. I had a feeling that Muslim/Hindu India might be a bit short on the Bacon and Beef. However, I had to throw caution to the wind, and decided to spend the day running around Bombay.
So I passed through 30 minutes of slums and 10 minutes of middle class on my way into the city. The slums, however, did have several places selling phone services and/or faxes and copying. I had to wonder what people would fax or copy anything in the dirt poor (dirt rich) slums.
After purchasing a train ticket to Hyderabad using hard currency on the tourist quota (1 person line rather than taking a number for one of 40 tellers), I set off through the city.
Many people say the crowds or the poverty are what first strikes them in India. For me it was the Dollar Store variety in the stands lining every walkway. Not only were the stores selling everything, but people with a cart setup next to a pillar sold everything as well. Fortunately for me, my hotel covered everything I needed, so I simply swept past and decided to wander West.
Thats when the poverty hit me. Its no problem to avoid kids begging or older people asking for money, but when they grab your arm and walk with you continually asking, well, I had to give the poor kid my scary face, the kind when you were little and your parents were mad at you. Instantly, the kid released my arm, looked back once, and went away.
Flights, Hong Kong, Singapore - Pre India 2
Flying Singapore Air Rocks. While all international flights I have been on give good treatment, with slippers/blanket/pillow, Singapore Air does a nice job with the food selection. I had seafood including shrimp and scallops for 2/3 meals.
The Hong Kong layover was only noteworthy because I enjoyed the Singapore Air food so much that I did not stop to buy a meal.
Upon being turned loose on the city of Singapore I attempted to share a taxi into the city with a greybeard wearing a t-shirt with cyrillic slogans. To my suprise, not only did he agree to share a cab, he told me he would drop me off wherever I wanted in the city, because his office/apartment was on the other side of Singapore. After a bit of talk I found 1) he was German 2) he traveled 300 days a year 3) for a civil engineering firm 4) had flats in 4 different cities and 5) was a hasher.
Consequently, he dropped me off in front of an expat bar (The Sportsmen), home to hashers, including the bartender, "Handjob", who put me in touch with "Virginia Slim(e)". After finding there was a hash that evening and drinking two pints of Kilkenny with a Scottish Kayaker retired to China (its cheap), I set off to see Singapore before the hash.
I made it as far as Chinatown, where I found a mosque and a temple nearly on top of each other. These were not my goal. Nor was I going to the beach, as a muslim IT worker recommended ("Singapore is a boring city"). No, I was headed to the Imperial Herbal Restaurant, Metropole Hotel - 3rd Floor, 41 Seah St.
Why, you may ask was I headed to IHR? Was I hungary? Did I want to taste Chinese food before sampling the rumored "best chinese food ever" in India? All this and more! IHR is known for diagnosing your ailments and cooking a scrumptious herbal meal to heal you.
Armed with an address and a building I set off through Chinatown for IHR. After about 20 minutes of walking, I found it. I went up to the entrance, and attempted to open the door, only to find it locked ... in the middle of the day. Looking around, I found they were closed from ~2-5. Sighing an ailment-full sigh, I realized that I had to make a choice between the restaurant and the hash.
An hour later I had stowed my travel bag in someone's trunk and was running on a hash run through the jungle in my sandals. The jungle hash was short (3km), but there was plenty of beer (Tiger - Singapore Beer) at the end. The hashers were constrained due to the lack of available land and general avoidance of shenanigans in Singapore. However, the run was good, and the beer flowing, and at the end showed up a Virginia Tech alumnus, Virginia Slim.
Slim brought the only thing he had left from his Bleaksburg days, a pair of Hokie Shotglasses. 2 Shots of Johnny Walker Black later, the hash's $8 seven course Chinese dinner was wonderful. Slim realized that just a couple of shots and dinner was not enough for the Singapore Hokie reunion of the decade (how many can there be?).
So we went to a bar, where Slim, his last 25 years in Asia, spoke local languages with other patrons. The patrons encouraged him to show me the more interesting side of Singapore. A couple of shots of Slime's reserve at the bar and we left for the Orchard Towers.
Orchard Towers is the nightlife of Singapore. The first bar we went into had a band that was Singapore's answer to Led Zeppelin and around since the 70's. They were playing Steve Miller Band and Styx covers while we were there. Across the street, we went to a basement place with a screaming Asian band, where Slime was greeted like an old friend. The madam was more than friendly and recommended some lovely Indonesian girls. However, the S$200 price tag was a bit rich for my blood, so we continued on to the other meat markets in the building.
Never before had I seen a meat market quite like this. Then again, I hadn't been around so many working women in a club, rather than a red-light district. 3 clubs, 3 deafening bands, and way too many approachable Asian girls later, I took a cab to the airport, with a souvenir Virginia Tech shotglass.
The Hong Kong layover was only noteworthy because I enjoyed the Singapore Air food so much that I did not stop to buy a meal.
Upon being turned loose on the city of Singapore I attempted to share a taxi into the city with a greybeard wearing a t-shirt with cyrillic slogans. To my suprise, not only did he agree to share a cab, he told me he would drop me off wherever I wanted in the city, because his office/apartment was on the other side of Singapore. After a bit of talk I found 1) he was German 2) he traveled 300 days a year 3) for a civil engineering firm 4) had flats in 4 different cities and 5) was a hasher.
Consequently, he dropped me off in front of an expat bar (The Sportsmen), home to hashers, including the bartender, "Handjob", who put me in touch with "Virginia Slim(e)". After finding there was a hash that evening and drinking two pints of Kilkenny with a Scottish Kayaker retired to China (its cheap), I set off to see Singapore before the hash.
I made it as far as Chinatown, where I found a mosque and a temple nearly on top of each other. These were not my goal. Nor was I going to the beach, as a muslim IT worker recommended ("Singapore is a boring city"). No, I was headed to the Imperial Herbal Restaurant, Metropole Hotel - 3rd Floor, 41 Seah St.
Why, you may ask was I headed to IHR? Was I hungary? Did I want to taste Chinese food before sampling the rumored "best chinese food ever" in India? All this and more! IHR is known for diagnosing your ailments and cooking a scrumptious herbal meal to heal you.
Armed with an address and a building I set off through Chinatown for IHR. After about 20 minutes of walking, I found it. I went up to the entrance, and attempted to open the door, only to find it locked ... in the middle of the day. Looking around, I found they were closed from ~2-5. Sighing an ailment-full sigh, I realized that I had to make a choice between the restaurant and the hash.
An hour later I had stowed my travel bag in someone's trunk and was running on a hash run through the jungle in my sandals. The jungle hash was short (3km), but there was plenty of beer (Tiger - Singapore Beer) at the end. The hashers were constrained due to the lack of available land and general avoidance of shenanigans in Singapore. However, the run was good, and the beer flowing, and at the end showed up a Virginia Tech alumnus, Virginia Slim.
Slim brought the only thing he had left from his Bleaksburg days, a pair of Hokie Shotglasses. 2 Shots of Johnny Walker Black later, the hash's $8 seven course Chinese dinner was wonderful. Slim realized that just a couple of shots and dinner was not enough for the Singapore Hokie reunion of the decade (how many can there be?).
So we went to a bar, where Slim, his last 25 years in Asia, spoke local languages with other patrons. The patrons encouraged him to show me the more interesting side of Singapore. A couple of shots of Slime's reserve at the bar and we left for the Orchard Towers.
Orchard Towers is the nightlife of Singapore. The first bar we went into had a band that was Singapore's answer to Led Zeppelin and around since the 70's. They were playing Steve Miller Band and Styx covers while we were there. Across the street, we went to a basement place with a screaming Asian band, where Slime was greeted like an old friend. The madam was more than friendly and recommended some lovely Indonesian girls. However, the S$200 price tag was a bit rich for my blood, so we continued on to the other meat markets in the building.
Never before had I seen a meat market quite like this. Then again, I hadn't been around so many working women in a club, rather than a red-light district. 3 clubs, 3 deafening bands, and way too many approachable Asian girls later, I took a cab to the airport, with a souvenir Virginia Tech shotglass.
SFO - Pre India 1
While waiting at PDX, despite the free Internet in the airport, I picked up a recommended book of short stories for my trip. I found it somewhat fitting that the introduction said that all the life stories one needs, one can get at home, here, in America.
My fortune cookie from lunch: A sudden change in plans will have fortuitous results.
I still decide to go to India, and board my flight to transit stop 1: California.
In San Francisco I meet an old friend from 4th grade, Andrew Winerman, and head to Golden Gate Park. As fits SF in the summer, the fog rolls in and the Ultimate Frisbee teams are out in force: about 20 teams man the fields. After working up a Healthy Appetite™, Andrew and I head to another bastian of SF: New Age cuisine.
The gimmicks are twofold, not only is everything vegetarian (maybe vegan) but all the grains are sprouted. The second gimmick is the way one orders: meals are named things like "I am Divine" or "I am Satisfied". When the food comes, the repeats back "You are Divine" or "You are Satisfied". Missing from the menu was "I am Hungry" so I attempted to be Satisfied instead. [Insert Rolling Stones joke here]. In addition to gimmickee food, the restaurant had prepay cards, which gave around a 1/6 discount. My buddy had over $1k prepaid. Nice.
My fortune cookie from lunch: A sudden change in plans will have fortuitous results.
I still decide to go to India, and board my flight to transit stop 1: California.
In San Francisco I meet an old friend from 4th grade, Andrew Winerman, and head to Golden Gate Park. As fits SF in the summer, the fog rolls in and the Ultimate Frisbee teams are out in force: about 20 teams man the fields. After working up a Healthy Appetite™, Andrew and I head to another bastian of SF: New Age cuisine.
The gimmicks are twofold, not only is everything vegetarian (maybe vegan) but all the grains are sprouted. The second gimmick is the way one orders: meals are named things like "I am Divine" or "I am Satisfied". When the food comes, the repeats back "You are Divine" or "You are Satisfied". Missing from the menu was "I am Hungry" so I attempted to be Satisfied instead. [Insert Rolling Stones joke here]. In addition to gimmickee food, the restaurant had prepay cards, which gave around a 1/6 discount. My buddy had over $1k prepaid. Nice.
India Trip
Greetings to Everyone reading this,
I haven't played with this blog much at all, but I will be giving it a shot for the duration of this India trip. I expect to have posts every couple of days until early August, when I will leave my office to travel around India exclusively.
Currently, I am going to try to catch up from the last week when I left Portland, OR. As I have time over the next week or two I expect to embellish my posts a bit with photographs (when developed & scanned) and with links to information online. I plan on putting links within my posts so that one can skip to preferred topics, but this may take me a few days, as I have plenty of work cut-out for my time here at IWMI, ICRISAT.
Cheers,
Greg
I haven't played with this blog much at all, but I will be giving it a shot for the duration of this India trip. I expect to have posts every couple of days until early August, when I will leave my office to travel around India exclusively.
Currently, I am going to try to catch up from the last week when I left Portland, OR. As I have time over the next week or two I expect to embellish my posts a bit with photographs (when developed & scanned) and with links to information online. I plan on putting links within my posts so that one can skip to preferred topics, but this may take me a few days, as I have plenty of work cut-out for my time here at IWMI, ICRISAT.
Cheers,
Greg
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Ongoing Greek Lessons
For those of you looking to work on your ancient Greek: http://perswww.kuleuven.ac.be/~u0013314/greekg.htm
is a wonderful site for greek grammar. Eventually we will progress to this, but currently we are working on the basics of vocabulary.
Definitions of last week's post.
Neleonessa - Merciless Duck... I hope to get a picture of a duck with a battleaxe onto this site. If you happen to have one, please send me it. I understand UPS delivers animals.
prophron - for the spirit/mind
prolix - for the words ... in common use: wordy and of excessive length
I think that in the time since my last post I attended a black tie Bar Mitzvah (not Greek) in Hotlanta (USA). While I didnt swim while there, I did spend time in politely preened company. Needless to say the amount of Die Hard-like action was limited to watching Die Hard 3 in the hotel. Word of advice, in all events, keep the DJ out of the dinner area during dining.
Cheers
is a wonderful site for greek grammar. Eventually we will progress to this, but currently we are working on the basics of vocabulary.
Definitions of last week's post.
Neleonessa - Merciless Duck... I hope to get a picture of a duck with a battleaxe onto this site. If you happen to have one, please send me it. I understand UPS delivers animals.
prophron - for the spirit/mind
prolix - for the words ... in common use: wordy and of excessive length
I think that in the time since my last post I attended a black tie Bar Mitzvah (not Greek) in Hotlanta (USA). While I didnt swim while there, I did spend time in politely preened company. Needless to say the amount of Die Hard-like action was limited to watching Die Hard 3 in the hotel. Word of advice, in all events, keep the DJ out of the dinner area during dining.
Cheers
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Thanking Donald J. Borror
First of all I would like to point out that I am NotGregTouchton. Second, I would like to thank my good friend and overprotegé (much like overlord), the wordsmith Donald J. Borror. Without your help I would never have known the significance of the duck.
Oh yeah, I am not prolix just prophron
Oh yeah, I am not prolix just prophron
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)