hampi

a few weeks ago i visited hampi with an american co-worker (MS) in town for 3 weeks.



it was my first overnight train ride in india. 2nd class sleeper: cheap and a bit grubby, but it's supposedly the full indian train experience... lots going on, curious friendly travelers, hawkers galore, strange smells and noises, the occasional mouse, cockroach, etc. 1st class is air-con and upper class indians. someday i'll try that.

we arrived in hospet on time. i hadn't slept well in my upper bunk. it was a bumpy, noisy night. fear of thieves also kept me from a deep sleep. feeling lazy, we negotiated for an auto-rickshaw from the train station into hampi, 30 minutes away. too much trouble to find the bus station and catch the bus.

on our way into town, the auto stopped and some random guy wanted a 5 rupee "parking fee". felt like a scam, especially since we weren't parking anything, but being only 5 rupees, i decided not to fight it.

upon arrival we were assaulted by the room hawkers. prices fell as we moved from place to place. they fell so far we each got our own room for only 100 per night ($2.30), complete with attached bath and mosquito netting, with a nice rooftop area to hang out and look out on the city & ruins.



hampi is a tiny town, nearly devoid of vehicle traffic, though sometimes you get stuck behind a cow jam. all accommodation is basic, family run stuff. no big hotels or resorts. backpackers, myself included, appreciate this sort of environment, but indians generally don't, and tend to stay in hospet. so the petruli oiled goa-loving crowd was out and about, but in small numbers, this being low season.

all in all, it was the perfect antidote to bangalore.

surrounding the small town for miles around are the ruins. vast, atmospheric, and nearly deserted, they were probably my 2nd favorite "ruins" of all time, dwarfed only by angkor wat.

we started at the temple in the center of town, where i gave an elephant 1 rupee in exchange for a blessing (i.e. a smack on the head from his trunk). a guide forced himself on us, and gave a tour in more detail than i cared for. and monkeys were everywhere, sizing us up for bananas and other pilferables.



this first day we stayed in the immediate vicinity of the town, covering what we could on foot, then napped through the afternoon rains. dinner presented a challenge--how could we have a beer in a holy city where all alcohol is prohibited by law? answer: go where the white people are. not hard, as there were basically ONLY white people in the main street restaurants. we easily found beer alongside surprisingly tasty food. there were offers of a lot of other "unholy" substances as well.

it being a full moon, it seemed the perfect opportunity to wander the ruins at night, something we were advised not to do, increasing its appeal. we climbed a nearby hill and looked out on the temple and surrounding ruins. beautiful. thankfully, the power went out in the city while we were up there, extinguishing the few fluorescent bulbs marring the otherwise perfect moonlit landscape. we finished the evening on our rooftop under the bright full moon, playing cards and drinking a bottle of california wine MS brought along with him, accompanied only by the sound of the river flowing nearby. my most romantic evening in ages. if only MS were a girl, unmarried, and far far bustier. sigh.

the next day we rented bikes as explored the more far flung ruins. i'll let the pictures speak. it was a long but rewarding day.





elephant stables:



in addition to the ruins, we had several very nice interactions with the locals. on the way back to town some kids hitched a joyride on our bike racks. in general, the people of hampi were extremely friendly.


day 3 we walked up to a hilltop for the sunrise and amazing views.




later we crossed the river by boat at which point the ass of my (literally) cheap-ass indian jeans ripped open. as the day progressed the rip went from suggestive to provocative to downright slutty. still, i managed to enjoy the day. this side of the river had a different feel to it, kind of like a tropical island, banana trees swaying in the wind. we managed to climb the huge staircase to the famous hilltop monkey temple. surrounded by aggressive holy monkeys, a giant ass-hatch open in my pants, i was feeling a bit vulnerable. but nothing happened beyond a lot of monkey posturing.



we tried to catch a bus back to the train station, but it was late. on top of that a very affectionate cow kept harassing us, demanding we rub her. she smiled, impressing me with her beautiful teeth. surprising myself, i pulled back her gums to show MS her pearly whites and he agreed. by the time she started head-butting me it seemed appropriate to grab a rickshaw back to the train station. this time i slept in a bottom bunk and fought off aggressive cockroaches most of the night. very, very unpleasant.


(thanks to MS for several of the pictures)

toothless

after dinner i went after the bits of fried chicken stuck between my teeth with a toothpick. though i was by no means picking agressively, an entire tooth popped out of my mouth. or most of one.

time to visit a dentist.

i've added a few pictures

to some of the posts below. scroll down.

why do i get sick so often?

two problems currently:
1) another cold
2) you know that problem EVERY traveler to india is supposed to have? well, i have the OPPOSITE problem. that's all i'm going to say about that.

waitress

i was sitting in a cafe the other day. having just placed my order with the incompetent waitress, i sat ignoring B and V's blather while something gnawed at the edge of my consciousness. after 10 minutes, i realized what it was. a waitress. we had a waitress! everywhere you go in india, you are served exclusively by men, but here, now, was an actual waitress. you do see women working in banks and offices, but never in the service industry. until now. times they are a-changin'. too bad she was terrible at her job.

date aftermath

she wasn't a teeny bopper after all, and her interests did show some intersection with mine. i was hoping to score a nice dowry and close the deal, but it turns out she's a progressive indian woman, and a christian, so i'll have to keep my job.

here's a breakdown of indian women as perceived by indian men, as far as i can tell. keep in mind that i'm an ignoramus. i will stick to the tried and true baseball metaphors for male/female interaction, adding a few new ones:

batters box - meeting with a girl with the idea of evaluating compatibility, e.g. a first date
signing the contract - getting married
losing the game - ending up anywhere from miserable to resigned
winning the game - ending up anywhere from happy to in love
traded - breaking up

old fashioned country girl

signing the contract -> home run -> lose by 10 runs

traditional woman

batters box -> signing the contract -> home run -> lose by 5 runs

modern woman

batters box -> first base -> signing the contract -> home run -> possible win, but likely loss

trashy

batters box -> first base -> second base -> signing the contract -> home run -> win or lose by a small margin

slut

batters box -> first base -> second base -> third base -> signing the contract -> home run -> win or lose

whore

batters box -> first base -> second base -> third base -> home run -> signed or traded

this is why alomst all western women are considered to be whores. i suspect my date is either modern or trashy.

desi date

i've got a date tonight. with an indian. in 40 minutes. i think i asked her out by accident (to be explained later). it's actually difficult to figure out anyone i could find who i'd be less compatible with: she likes high fashion and gossip and all things euro; i like grungy travel in 3rd world hell-holes, largely to escape all the stuff she likes. she's also 12 years younger than me, though it can feel more like 20 at times. not that she's not very nice (again, unlike me). oh, this is gonna be good! gotta run...

hampi

next week the blog returns to regular update status. really.

tonight i'm taking an overnight train to the ancient holy site of Hampi. back on monday. in the meantime, travel with me through this guy (he links to pics).

happy Ganesha Chaturthi

it's the national holiday for everyone's favorite deity, lord ganesha. it's hard not to like a plump, friendly, multi-armed elephant dude who rides around on a tiny mouse. folks will be going nuts for the next few days. i might walk over to the lake later and see ganesha submerged.

identity crisis

when you're a white guy with long blond hair in india, people tend to remember you. unfortunately when you're a white guy with a shitty memory and you meet new indians almost every day, you tend to forget some of them.

this causes problems. i've been here long enough now that i run into people randomly in the street who stop and greet me, often addressing me by name. the problem is i often don't know who they are, though usually they look sort of familiar. this morning it was the guy who sold me and most of my students guitars--i've been to his shop about 5 times, but he still had to tell me who he was. and i was greeted by my old buddy girish the other day, and we're supposed to get together sometime. if only i could figure out who the hell he is.

the view from my balcony

sorry for the delay on the wedding report--been extremely busy this week. it's coming.

in the meantime...

this morning i heard someone playing drums outside my window. i ventured out onto my balcony and saw that a tightrope had been set up on the street below, the rope suspended from a few bamboo poles about 8 feet off the ground (which consists of your typical head-splitting pavement). there was no net or safety equipment of any kind.

as the man drummed away and a woman collected money, a little girl walked the tightrope doing various tricks along the way. she looked about 8 or 9. i was horrified. this girl was being exploited and put in harm's way for the gain of her parents (if they were her parents). but my neighbors were delighted--everyone seemed to enjoy the show and showered them with rupees. and i'll admit, the show was impressive. after 15 minutes, the girl's brains still safely tucked away inside her skull, the show wrapped up and moved on to the next block. i guess it's better than starving--until you die from head trauma of course. i was sorry that my camera was at the office.

heading for the wedding

yesterday i purchased a nice new khadi kurta (handmade indian shirt) to wear to the event, and i've joined the office gift pool. thus everything is taken care of. tonight i catch an overnight bus for chennai with some of my co worker buddies. the wedding is sunday at 7am--not saturday as i originally thought. not sure what the plan is on saturday, though the guys mentioned something about a "booze party" in the evening. hmm. maybe the plan is to finish a very long night at the wedding.

wedding?!

i'm invited to a wedding this weekend, but it's way the hell over in chennai (madras to you old timers) and it's saturday at 7am. yeah, that's right....7am. i also need to buy clothes and shoes to wear, and figure out a gift.

i've never been to an indian wedding. should i go? will it be a cultural experience i dare not miss, or a snoozer (which might be literal given the time of day)? if you have experince with these things help me out. i'm also getting a lot of different stories on acceptable dress. if possible, do suggest clothes and shoes i should wear and the gift i should bring. it would be nice if i could wear something that would be useful for more than indian weddings (e.g. something i could wear to work or out at night).

is cash an acceptable gift? what amount is reasonable?

youth camp

most of the people i hang out with here originally met through an organization i will call IYE (international youth exchange)*, where young people do volunteer work and live with a host family in some other country. this time of year, IYE runs a camp outside of bangalore to welcome the latest arrivals to india. B & V (the swede and the italian) & R & M2 & Y (the indian women) have all been affiliated with IYE in the past. even though most of them have nothing to do with IYE officially anymore, they enjoy visiting the camp, and this time they invited me to come along. i felt a little weird about going, given that i have nothing to do with IYE and that the Y in IYE doesn't exactly fit me to a T, but i figured it beats sitting at home with a cold. so, hopped up on cold medication, i packed a bag, grabbed my guitar, and met the gang for the ride out to camp on the outskirts of bangalore. before we got in the van, V took me aside and quagmiresquely** explained that this year's crop consisted of some 24 females and 3 males, the oldest amongst them pushing 21. I should have replied "giggity, giggity...all riiight"***, but being snotty and sick and most cripplingly of all, me, i just couldn't bring myself to become "that creepy old guy" for the weekend. I decided then and there that i'd leave that for V.

But that was before i fully appreciated the transformative effect of questionable cold medicine, hindi dance music, and the old monk (indian rum).****

to be continued.

* name altered so i don't get in trouble
** second quagmire (family guy) reference in the blog. dennis made the first. thanks dennis for opening that door.
*** third quagmire reference
**** foreshadowing used to increase readership.

a picture, proving i was there:

don't trust your pharmacist

my lastest illness turned into your basic cold. the huge pharmacy nearby looks like something from america in the 20's. the old gothic building houses old tall wooden cabinets with ovaltine ads etched in the glass panels, something from the days of british rule to be sure. these cabinets are crammed full of drugs of all sorts, seemingly haphazardly. i half expected to see mortars and pestles and someone muttering incantations. i added myself to the queueless hordes (not so fun being jammed together with sick poeple) and eventually found a space at the counter and a man who would help me. i told him i needed cold medicine, and he went off to rumage though the cabinets. after a few minutes he returned with a few sheets of pills. note that pills almost always come in those little tin foil sheets, as putting them in bottles would invite drug counterfeiting. note also that these sheets are often cut up into smaller sheets to the point where you can't read the ingredients or its MRP (retail price) or expiration date, unless you are lucky enough to get that part of the sheet. Also, dosages are never indicated on the drug as they are to be indicated by a physician. Anyway, he brought me a sheet of multi-symptom cold medication and a somthing-cillin. i asked what the something-cillin was, as the "cillin" suffix sure sounded like an antibotic to me. He confirmed it was indeed an antibiotic. he said i'm supposed to take the antibiotics along with the cold medicine. I looked at him with horror, and told him you're not supposed to take antibiotics for a cold. they are useless against viruses, i said. my rebellion was unexpected. another pharmacist backed him up. i told him i didn't want the antibiotics, purchased the cold medicine and walked home in the pouring rain. once home i realized i didn't know how many of the pills to take or how long they lasted. oh well, i would have to experiment.

anyway, somebody needs to tell indian pharmacists to stop giving antibiotics to cold sufferers or somebody needs to explain to me why i should have taken them.

sick again

god knows what kind of weird virus i have this time. i'm sweaty and i desperately want to sleep. maybe i should go home.

lumpy and me and pee

i've had a strange lump at the base of my neck for a few months now, so i finally decided i'd get it looked at. the doc poked and prodded and squeezed and teased my neck nodule, then pronounced it harmless. i could get it cut out if i liked, but he didn't recommend bothering with that unless it gets bigger or infected.

total charge for doctor visit: $0. he said he didn't need to treat me, so it's free. i never filled out a single form or gave anyone my name. i walked in (sans appointment), saw the doctor, and walked out. so easy. screw you US health care system, you bastard.

since i'll be living with this lump for a while (perhaps forever), i've named it bernard.

as bernie and i headed home, i witnessed my first female public urination since college.

happy independence day!

indian independence, that is.

it's one of the big indian holidays. everyone has the day off and the flags are flying... this is a very patriotic place. i've mentioned to several indians the common independence day bond we have, both of our countries having booted out the brits and united as democratic nations. surprisingly, this almost never fails to elicit surprise. in fact i've been told twice that i'm mistaken. i guess western history is given about as much study here as eastern history is given in the USA.

i was going to go to the freedom jam--a massive outdoor music festival, apparently the biggest in india--but the event was cancelled due to security concerns (i.e. terrorists). once again the terrorists have won, and i'm at work instead.

the party

well, B and V finally came though. the party was well attended and a success. this was truly an international event. here's the breakdown (ordered by skin color--light to dark):

1 swedish male (B)
1 swiss female (J)
1 american male (Me!)
1 italian male (V)
5 indian females (Y, M2, J, R, K)
1 indian male (P)
1 guy from dubai (M)

i was expecting something closer to 3-6 people, as B & V, until now, have always overpromised and underdelivered.



more fun facts:
1. at one point in the evening Y grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the bedroom. she pointed at R lying in a heap on the floor. it took me several moments to process what was going on. R had fainted. her eyes were half open and lifeless. i carried her limp body to the bed. i checked her noggin for blood or a massive lump she might have received hitting my very hard floor. nothing. as i was contemplating my next move she regained conciousness and apologized for fainting.
2. 4 people spent the night (not including me), the final stragglers finally leaving on sunday morning. the event began on friday, mind you.
3. those of us remaining on saturday went shopping for indian wedding wear for me. no, i'm not getting married (the party wasn't that good). i'm invited to a wedding. M2 seemed to relish her role of dressing me up like an indian prince. i drew the line at perfume and jewelry, though surprisingly i liked the glittery long scarf she insisted i wear.

i took some pictures. maybe i'll post them. (i just did.)

local girls, sort of

i met b & v and two of their indian female friends, just back in town after a year long stay in switzerland. some sort of student exchange. these girls (i can call them this becuase they were about 20) were quite nice and very westernized. normally i feel like i have to tread lightly around indian girls, who often seem shy and easily shocked by swearing and drinking and such. not so with these two. in fact they're coming over to my place for V's birthday party on friday and have even asked if they can spend the night. scandalous! i will be the talk of the building on saturday.

i get stared at a lot when i'm alone, but walking down the street with the provocatively (again, by indian standards) dressed indian girls drew more stares and even some catcalls. local men would try to "help" the girls (with what is unclear), assuming they were tourists. the girls seemed both amused and slightly annoyed by this.

while everyone was pleasant enough, i realized i'm really starting to miss people my age. everyone i hang out is 23 or less. well, V is 28 actually, but he seems 23. i miss adult conversation.

(here i should point out that among my most satisfying conversations on this entire trip were those i had with an 18 year old english woman i met in vietnam. i'm still freaked out by her.)