Archive for India
May 6, 2008 · Filed under India, Photo Album, Trips
I’ve been in India for two full weeks and it amazes me how all the little things that seemed to accentuate a feeling of foreignness have now blended into the backdrop of what is a beautiful, 
bustling, and comfortable country. The crazy traffic, the strange foods, the culture, the mannerisms of the people, the temples and shrines dotting the roadside, the poverty, the wealth; none of it strikes me as strange anymore and I feel oddly at home.
I feel like that’s great progress and I’m actually rather pleased that it happened so quickly. The downside, however, is that at the end of a long day at work, when I’m tired and cranky, I’m feeling comfortable enough to show my frustration and get annoyed by the little things – just like I do when I’m home. I suppose that means the honeymoon is over, but it doesn’t mean I love India any less. It just means I got crabby at the housekeeping guy for making me fill out three forms because he couldn’t take my laundry without having all the right paperwork that goes along with it. (In India, even laundry has a paper trail.)
Despite my comfort, some things don’t appear to be changing. For example, my success rate of ordering room service is steady at about 67%. I will place my order and the guy on the other end accepts it; only to have someone else call me a few minutes later to clarify the order.
I am routinely called a “Wine Weennie”. I prefer Old World wines; reds from the Rhone Valley in France, or a nice oaky Rioja. Anything with a Grenache grape is aces in my book. Indian wines don’t appear to fall into that narrow zone, so I don’t like to order wine at the hotel. For beer, the Kingfisher lager has a nice, fresh taste, but lagers aren’t my thing (I’ll have a nice hoppy IPA, thankyouverymuch.) With no other options (that I’m willing to try), I order gin and tonics with my dinners.
Room Service and I follow a rigorous process which is not deviated from:
Frank: “…and I would like a gin and tonic please.”
Room Service: “Okay, okay. I’ll bring it.”
(Frank hangs up.)
(Phone rings.)
Frank: “Yes?”
Room Service (different person): “Yes, sir. You ordered a gin and tonic?”
Frank: “Yes.”
Room Service: “Local or imported gin?”
Frank: “Local is fine, thank you.”
Room Service: “Okay, okay. I’ll bring it.”
(Frank hangs up.)
(Phone rings.)
Frank: “Yes?”
Room Service (different person): “You ordered a gin and tonic, sir?”
Frank: “Yes.”
Room Service: “Large or small?”
Frank: “Large is fine, thank you.”
Room Service: “Okay, okay. I’ll bring it.”
(Frank hangs up.)
(Phone rings.)
Frank: “Yes?”
Room Service (different person): “Good evening, sir. You ordered a gin and tonic?”
Frank: “Yes.”
Room Service: “One or two large?”
Frank: “One is fine, thank you.”
Room Service: “Okay, okay. I’ll bring it.”
(Frank hangs up.)
(Room service delivers two large gin and tonics. Every time.)
I spent the weekend in Chennai with Michelle, kicking around her ‘hood. Michelle has spent 3 of the last 6 months in Chennai, so she almost feels as though it is her second home. She knows all her favorite restaurants and shops, the best markets, where to get the best poori and dosa, places to avoid, and places to go. I have heard so much about Chennai from Michelle while she’s been here; it was utterly amazing to have the opportunity to spend time with her there and see it all first-hand.
We checked into the RainTree – one of the nicer hotels in Chennai – for the weekend. We enjoyed dinner and drinks on the rooftop bar, passed the midday heat on Saturday lounging by the pool and swimming, and spent the less hot hours shopping and going to markets. We did the same things on Sunday, except that we also visited a beautiful temple in Chennai, located at one of the original city centers (Chennai grew from two villages which became the two city centers.)
Chennai is a beautiful city with a completely different character from Bangalore; while it’s grittier, it’s also more real and has an intangible sense of life which, in an odd manner, reminds me of Toulouse.
The bottom line is: I love Chennai, miss it already, and can’t wait to go back.
May 1, 2008 · Filed under India, Photo Album, Trips
I’ve been sitting on this photo album for about a week because I’ve been planning on writing a detailed account of 
the amazing weekend Michelle and I had in Pondicherry & Mahabalipuram. Alas, I never had time, and now I’m gearing up to go back to Chennai, anticipating new tales to tell. I suppose it’s better to write a quick summary than nothing at all, so here you go.
I flew from Bangalore to Chennai on Friday evening and we drove down to Pondicherry, about a three-hours drive. Along the drive, we have various surprising experiences. The first was seeing a motorcycle driving on the highway with a passenger who was holding a 4×8 sheet of plywood in his hands. He was holding it straight up and perpendicular to the direction of travel, like one of the sails on the Black Pearl. We were half-tempted to hang behind them and wait for the guy to inevitably sail off the back of the bike. But we didn’t.
Then, once we turned off the main road onto the smaller road that leads to Pondicherry, we struck up a conversation with our driver, Sethu, who had lived in Italy for two years. It turns out he was on the roadside of the Giro d’Italia when Marco Pantani won in 1998. The cashew trees were in bloom, so here we are in the middle of South India, chatting about Marco Pantani with Sethu while smelling the fresh scent of cashew blossoms. In India, you just never know what is going to happen next.
Well, we actually did know what would happen next: we spent the following day in Pondicherry, a French colonial town on the Bay of Bengal. Needless to say, it’s a beautiful town and – since we’re in South India – it was crowded and stiflingly hot.
The next day, we drove up the coast to the ancient temple town of Mahabalipuram. These amazing temples were carved straight out of a solid hunk of granite. ALL OF THEM. ONE HUNK OF GRANITE. Holy buckets. Unfortunately, most of the temples were never completed due to wars and people dying, etc, but it is a truly amazing site.
Read more about Mahabalipuram and Pondicherry.
April 24, 2008 · Filed under India, Photo Album, Trips
I had some spare time this morning, so I took a stroll through the neighborhood where my hotel is. 
The highlight of the adventure was the near three-way collision between an autorickshaw, a bicycle carrying about 3 dozen coconuts, and a scooter whose passenger was carrying a 20-inch television. I have a hard time imagining that someone would decide that it’s a great idea to hop on the back of your buddy’s scooter and take your television, let alone in this traffic.
I walked down the main road where my hotel is, and turned left onto a larger road and was amazed at how calm the traffic was at 8 in the morning; I only heard about a 7 honks per second, whereas normal traffic hovers around 35. I went about a block and turned down a side street and headed back towards the hotel.
India is amazing. To a Westerner, there is a lot of noise and commotion, and things seem disorganized and messy. But, if you look closely, there is beauty everywhere: people take care of everything they have; sweeping and cleaning, putting on their best clothes, and making sure their belongings are as tidy as possible. A valuable lesson for anyone.
April 22, 2008 · Filed under India, Photo Album, Trips
As I’m sure is the case with most visitors to India, my first real impression of the country came on the taxi ride from 
the airport to the hotel; my first activities consisted of finding my way through the airport and getting my luggage; hardly an opportunity to stop and take in your surroundings.
I had heard countless times about the traffic and activity on Indian streets, but nothing can prepare you for what it is like. I’m in Bangalore on business, and I have been working with people from India for most of my professional career. In my experience, they have been intelligent and hard-working, but most notably, they have been very process-oriented. With this in mind, the complete chaos of Indian traffic is a paradox beyond comprehension. The only rules of traffic that I’ve been able to identify are (a) there is no incident small enough not merit the honking of a horn, (b) traffic signs and lights are for sissies, and (c) although the idea is that the flow of traffic is roughly split between left and right and, in general, one drives on the left-hand side of the road; lanes are meaningless. Even this last one seems to be more of a “guideline” than a rule, and there have been more than a few occasions where I was in the sole car going the wrong way through oncoming traffic because it was slightly more convenient for the driver.
As a pedestrian, the experience shifts from being nerve-wracking to utterly terrifying. I wouldn’t say that traffic 
tries to hit pedestrians; it’s more that it doesn’t really try to avoid hitting pedestrians. While it appears to be frowned upon, it doesn’t seem to be a major concern. My strategy is to shield myself in a crowd that I estimate is bigger than any driver is willing to hit. Twenty to thirty appears to be the magic number.
With the goal of having me survive my visit to India, my company has assigned me a driver, Murali, who drives me everywhere I want to go – day and night, 7 days a week – and who waits for me while I shop, or eat, or try to hopscotch my way across a street (and he probably also laughs at my ignorance, but he doesn’t get paid for that part). Murali’s charter includes showing me around Bangalore and the surrounding area, taking me to any kind of restaurant I like, and keeping me alive.
On my first weekend here in Bangalore, Michelle came across from Chennai by train. She arrived around 1:00pm, and after some minor confusion on how to meet each other, we met halfway around the world from where we’d last seen each other.
My driver took us around Bangalore, showing us some important government buildings and taking us shopping. Afterwards, he took us to a restaurant where we were going to have some drinks and dinner.
We arrived at the restaurant around 5:00pm, and were told that they won’t serve dinner until 7:00 because they had to fuck first, 
but we were welcome to have drinks while we waited. Michelle and I stood in stunned silence for a few very long moments while we tried to understand what the hostess could possibly mean. Finally we realized that they were planning to fumigate (fog, not fuck, apparently) the terrace to clear out the various flying nuisances that are common in the area. Relieved, we accepted and settled into a table and ordered some drinks. A few minutes later, we found ourselves in a suffocating cloud of DDT or whatever they fumigated with. Ever since, my elbow has felt funny, and I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m growing a second head there. Stupid DDT.
The next day, Murali took us to the city of Mysore, about three hours – 100 kilometers – southwest of Bangalore. On the way, we stopped at a Muslim temple where orphans were attending Karan school, we went to a Hindi temple where I was blessed by a holy man, and to a bird sanctuary where Murali arranged for a private, covered boat to take us around a lake where we saw a stunning array of birds and were much closer to crocodiles than I would care to ever be again. Oh, and we saw monkeys.
To recap: traffic is crazy, if you’re not honking, you’re doing something wrong, DDT makes my elbows feel funny, and monkeys and crocodiles are cool.
A geeky bonus joke:
I mentioned to one of my team members the paradox of how process oriented the team is, yet how chaotic the traffic is. He laughed and said, “Yes, we are very process oriented only in the office. In traffic, we follow the Agile method.”
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