Taking on the Indian Subcontinent

Before I Take My Leave - Final Update

2008-12-07T12:53:00.006+05:30

I will always be glad to have had this chance to visit India. . .

1) ~~visit the Taj Mahal~~

2) ~~gaze upon the Himalayas~~

3) ~~swim in the Indian Ocean~~

4) ~~stand on the southern-most tip of the Indian subcontinent.~~

5) experience the magic of Rajastan's medieval cities: ~~Jaipur~~, Jodhpur, and Udaipur

I take my leave of India at the end of this week. It's been an absolutely amazing 4+ months on the Indian subcontinent. I have somehow, someway managed to do most of what I set out to do. There are certainly things left undone, sights left unseen, experiences left un-experienced, but seeing most of the items on the above list crossed-off is quite satisfying.

Correction to one saying: getting there is not always half the fun. Sometimes getting there is no fun at all!

Confirmation of another: For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these 'It might have been'. . .(John Greenleaf Whittier)

Travel in this country is certainly not easy. In fact, it's incredibly difficult. It simultaneously makes you want to scream, cry, curl up in a fetal position on the floor, and desperately wish you were back home safe and sound. While making various flight and hotel reservations, I stared at that confirm button for a very long time before finally clicking on it, all the time wondering what obstacles fate and/or the travel gods had in store for me. Obviously, it was always going to be far easier not to travel, but I didn't want to leave India with any regrets and certainly not with the feeling that I had wasted this probably once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Fortunately, and without exception, the destinations and end-experiences were always worth the ever-attendant and oft-plentiful travel headaches. It certainly helps that the not-so-enjoyable experiences seem to quickly recede into distant, hazy memories with time, while the enjoyable ones remain fresh and vivid. I leave with no regrets and only fond memories.

I want to thank and acknowledge all the Wikipedia contributors and the Lonely Planet India travel guide authors. I hope I gave them credit whenever it was due for the histories and descriptions of the people, places, and sites included in my blog entries. They were a tremendous resource.

Finally, I want to thank all of you out there. I hope you have enjoyed reading about my experiences as much as I have enjoyed bringing them to you. If my words and photos have been able to convey even the tiniest bit of wonder and amazement on offer in this land of India, I consider my time spent blogging time well spent.

So. . .it's absolutely true that I will always be glad to have had this chance to visit India. . .but I am equally glad that it's now time to go home. . .

. . .speaking of which. . .

I have one more stop to make on my journey westward before arriving back in Hermosa Beach, California, U.S.A. I'll chronicle that experience on this blog as well. We'll call it the beginning of the repatriation of this current expatriate. It might be a couple of weeks before any new entries appear, but please check back right before Christmas if you get a chance. I'll certainly be finished with this blog by New Year's Eve, which just may be a fitting end date to this saga.

I wish everyone a very happy holiday season, safe travels, a very Merry Christmas, and a very Happy New Year. . .

The Epic Journey of The Box. . .concluded

2008-12-05T17:58:00.002+05:30

Day 5: The Box is safe and sound. . .

The delivery notice was signed and left out on the front door. . .

The final FedEx Tracking Entry for The Box :

Date and Time: December 4, 11:23am
Activity: Delivered
Location: Edmonds, WA, U.S.A

The Epic Journey of The Box. . .continued

2008-12-04T09:47:00.002+05:30

Day 4: The Box has arrived. . .

I am stunned.

FedEx Tracking Entries for The Box as of December 4th, 10:00am IST:

Date and Time: December 1, 6:42pm
Activity: Pick up
Location: Bangalore, India

Date and Time: December 1, 10:42pm
Activity: Left facility of origin
Location: Bangalore, India

Date and Time: December 2, 6:29am
Activity: In transit
Location: Mumbai, India

Date and Time: December 2, 10:44pm
Activity: Departed FedEx location
Location: Paris, France

Date and Time: December 3, 1:00am
Activity: In transit
Location: Memphis, Tennessee, U.S.A. (!)
Details: package available for clearance

Date and Time: December 3, 3:58am
Activity: Departed FedEx location
Location: Memphis, Tennessee, U.S.A.

Date and Time: December 3, 6:02am
Activity: At destination sort facility
Location: Seattle, WA, U.S.A.

Date and Time: December 3, 8:10am
Activity: At local FedEx facility
Location: Bothell, WA, U.S.A.

Date and Time: December 3, 8:20am
Activity: On FedEx vehicle for delivery
Location: Bothell, WA, U.S.A.

Date and Time: December 3, 10:20am
Activity: Delivery exception
Location: Bothell, WA, U.S.A.
Details: Customer not available - Signature required

I am going to assume all the above times are local times. December 3, 10:20am on the U.S. west coast translates to December 3, 11:50pm here in India. Total elapsed time from pickup here to delivery there: 2 days, 5 hours, 8 minutes. A tip of the hat to FedEx.

I hope my journey home is as quick and as seemingly painless.

The Epic Journey of The Box. . .continued

2008-12-03T16:54:00.005+05:30

Day 3: The Box has arrived in the U.S.A. . .

FedEx Tracking Entries for The Box as of December 3rd, 5:00pm IST:

Date and Time: December 1, 6:42pm
Activity: Pick up
Location: Bangalore, India

Date and Time: December 1, 10:42pm
Activity: Left facility of origin
Location: Bangalore, India

Date and Time: December 2, 6:29am
Activity: In transit
Location: Mumbai, India

Date and Time: December 2, 10:44pm
Activity: Departed FedEx location
Location: Paris, France

Date and Time: December 3, 1:00am
Activity: In transit
Location: Memphis, Tennessee, U.S.A. (!)
Details: package available for clearance

Date and Time: December 3, 3:58am
Activity: Departed FedEx location
Location: Memphis, Tennessee, U.S.A.

December 4th is still the "Estimated Delivery Date". I'm beginning to believe them.

The Epic Journey of The Box. . .continued

2008-12-02T16:53:00.006+05:30

Day 2: So far. . .so good. . .

. . .but with one small hiccup. . .

"You know that FedEx account number you used yesterday?"
"Yeah. . ."
"It actually doesn't belong to us. It belongs to [the parent company of our current employer]. You probably weren't supposed to use that one."
"What do you think that means for The Box?"
"I don't know. . .but I'm sure it's going to be fine."

FedEx Tracking Entries for The Box as of December 2nd, 5:00pm IST:

Date and Time: December 1, 6:42pm
Activity: Pick up
Location: Bangalore, India

Date and Time: December 1, 10:42pm
Activity: Left facility of origin
Location: Bangalore, India

Date and Time: December 2, 6:29am
Activity: In transit
Location: Mumbai, India

They even list December 4th as the "Estimated Delivery Date", which seems a little too good to be true.

The Epic Journey of The Box

2008-12-01T23:08:00.005+05:30

So it begins. . .

I packed gifts and souvenirs into The Box yesterday. I took The Box into work today to have it shipped back to the U.S. (my Mom and Dad's house in Edmonds, WA to be precise). I am shipping The Box via FedEx. From India. Things could go very smoothly. . .or not. . .

The Epic Journey of The Box begins in Bangalore at about 4:00pm IST (Indian Standard Time).

I hand The Box to our central production assistant, who has been charged with making all of this happen. I hand him a printout of the "ship to" address printed on it. I hand him a printout with the FedEx account number to use. He is kind enough to print out a "sent by" address label for me. I check and double check the addresses more than once.

The "ship to" address gets taped to the box, as does the "sent by" address. For some reason two members of our office security staff have just appeared. I'm not sure why. Maybe they heard about The Box and want to come take a look for themselves. Maybe they just need something to do this afternoon. The two of them make our little group a group of four, although I am not much more than the innocent, but obviously very interested, bystander. The others talk amongst themselves for a few minutes. There are then multiple phone calls placed to other people, two of whom suddenly appear a few minutes later. There are now six of us standing there staring at The Box. One of the group says something (in the local language, which probably is for the best as I undoubtedly do not want to hear what is actually being discussed), which is followed by a few moments of silence, followed by the other four chipping in with some comment or another, followed by more silence. This pattern is repeated a couple of times.

I'm not quite sure what to think at this point. I just want The Box sent. Other boxes get sent all around the world, all the time.

I do get a few chuckles and more than a few eye-rolls from the passersby who know what I am attempting to do. I'm glad I can provide them a little afternoon entertainment.

I am not sure who placed the actual phone call, or when said phone call was actually placed, but
the FedEx guy shows up a little after 5pm. I feel a little better now. This guy will surely take care of The Box. There's more talk. . .and then more silence. Finally they decide they need a list of the box contents and an overall value. I quickly provide both. There's more talk. . .and more silence. They all disappear somewhere downstairs for a little while. Actually more than a little while.

It is literally an hour from the time the FedEx guy first shows up to the time he leaves (hopefully/presumably with The Box). I do not see him actually walk out the door and put The Box on his truck. He does, however, present me with a FedEx International Air Waybill before he goes. On this little piece of paper is the all-important FedEx Tracking Number. I expect to make good use of this number over the coming days.

I will keep all of you apprised of the location of The Box, as I'm sure it's safe arrival at my Mom and Dad's is as important to all of you as it is to me. I appreciate all your good thoughts and well wishes.

How long will it take? I will wildly, possibly optimistically, guess at eight working days, which would put the package on my Mom and Dad's doorstep on or about the 10th of December. But I'll settle for anytime before Christmas. . .

Wait. . .who am I kidding?. . .I'll just settle for anytime!

Darjeeling

2008-11-26T00:48:00.031+05:30

Worth every bit of the accumulated travel misery it took to get here. . .

Location: 27.03 degrees North latitude; 88.16 degrees East longitude
Elevation: 7001 ft (+/- a couple of hundred feet depending upon where exactly in Darjeeling you happen to be at the time)
Weather: cold!!! mid/upper 40's during the day, 30's at night

Darjeeling is the quintessential Himalayan hill station: draped across a steep mountain ridge with the magnificent Mt. Khangchendzonga looming above. During the British Raj in India, Darjeeling's temperate climate led to its development as a summer retreat for British residents seeking an escape from the heat of the plains. Darjeeling became known as the Summer Capital.

Darjeeling

It's as if someone took a box of blocks up to the mountain ridge, tipped it over, and let the blocks tumble down the hillsides. . .

Tenzing Norgay & The Himalayan Mountain Institute

mostly from Lonely Planet:
Tenzing Norgay was just 18 years old when he left his village in Tibet in 1932 to seek adventure and income with the new European-led mountaineering expeditions. The Planters' Club in Darjeeling became home base for sherpas hoping to be hired onto the expeditions. After several attempts on Everest and numerous successful climbs on other peaks over the intervening decades, Tenzing Norgay joined John Hunt's 1953 British Everest expedition. It was this expedition that also included a New Zealand bee keeper by the name of Edmund Hillary. The rest. . .as they say. . .is history. The pair were the first to successfully ascend and equally as important return from the summit of Mt. Everest. The date was May 29th, 1953. They spent 15 minutes on the summit, of which Hillary remarked "A symmetrical, beautiful snow cone summit". Tenzing Norgay became a world figure much in demand, but remained in Darjeeling to be with his family. He helped establish the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute in 1954 and served as it's first director.

Batasia War Memorial

The Batasia War Memorial was constructed by the Zilla Sainik board in Darjeeling in memory of all the brave ghorka (the region in and around the area) soldiers of the Darjeeling hills who have laid down their lives for the country in all wars and operations since Indian independence in 1947. The memorial was sanctified on 22nd March 1995.

It seemed to be "the thing to do": dress up in period costume and get your picture taken. I never found out what "period" the costumes represented. it seemed to be just the women who were doing this. . .

and of course, wherever there be tourists. . .there be a little bazaar with people displaying their wares. One of the noticeable differences in Darjeeling in comparison to the other places I have visited is the lack of harassment by the merchants. They just were happy to let you look without trying to give you the unrelenting hard sell. It was very nice for a change. . .

Japanese Peace Pagoda

The Japanese Peace Pagoda is one of more than 70 such pagodas built by the Japanese Buddhist Nipponzan Myohoji organization.

The Buddhist Monasteries

Buddhism is the prevalent religion practived in this part of northern India. There are many Tibetan gompas (monasteries) sprinkled around Darjeeling. Here are a few. . .

. . .the Bhutia Busty Gompa on the northern lower slopes of Darjeeling. . .

. . .the Samten Choling Gompa. . .

. . .and the Druk Sangak Choling Gompa. . .

"Thus spoke the Buddha, do not do anything harmful, do only what is good, discipline your own mind. This is the teaching of the Buddha."

Tiger Hill

Tiger Hill is just outside/above the little town of Ghum, which itself is about 10 km south of Darjeeling. The top of Tiger Hill sits at an elevation of 2590m (8497 ft), which is easily going to be the highest altitude attained on my travels here in India. Watching the sun rise over the Himalayas from Tiger Hill is just "one of those touristy things you should do", so I get up at 3:30am and climb into a jeep at 4:00am for the 30 minute ride down to Ghum and then up Tiger Hill. It's very early on a Monday morning. The previous couple of days have not been crystal clear. I think I'm probably going to be one of the only people stupid enough to want to do this this morning. How wrong I am. There must be a thousand people up here by 5:00am. It's a little unbelievable. The predawn sky is absolutely filled with stars. This is worth the early hour and the bone-chilling cold all by itself. The skies begin to lighten at about 5:30am. Unfortunately, there are enough low clouds and mist that most of Mt. Khangchendzonga and the rest of the Himalayan range remains hidden from view this morning, but this is what I do see. . .

That's Darjeeling spread along and down that mountain ridge in the middle of the below photo. . .

Mt. Khangchendzonga

Mt. Khangchendzonga is the highest peak in India and the 3rd highest peak in the entire world, behind only Everest and K-2. It reaches an altitude of 8598m (28,207 ft). The name "Khangchendzonga" is derived from the Tibetan words for "big five-peaked snow fortress".

Local Fauna Update

The Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park was established in 1958 to study, and hopefully preserve the animals that call the Himalayas home. The animals are supposedly very well taken care of, but they are still housed in relatively small cages and enclosures so I'm not going to include any photos. The primary reason I visit the zoo is to see the elusive Himalayan snow leopard. They have a pair of them, and they are absolutely magnificent creatures.

I also spend about 15 minutes on my last morning in Darjeeling gazing out at Mt. Khangchendzonga. I hope to glimpse and (obviously) photograph the elusive Yeti (a.k.a. The Abominable Snowman) and finally settle the debate once and for all. Alas, I have no luck. I think I probably just needed a pair of binoculars. . .

And Finally. . .

The Himalayan mountains as seen from the inside of an airplane at 34,000 ft. . .

I have gazed upon the Himalayas. . .

Darjeeling or Bust

2008-11-22T04:46:00.009+05:30

I couldn't make this up if I tried. . .

I am travelling up to the Himalayan hill station of Darjeeling today. Darjeeling is at the top end of the Indian state of West Bengal. I have a 6:40am flight from Bangalore to Delhi. The flight is due to arrive in Delhi at 9:55am. My connecting flight leaves Delhi at 10:30am stopping first in Guwahati before heading on to Bagdogra. This flight is scheduled to arrive in Bagdogra at 2:20pm. I have arranged through the hotel for a car to pick me up at the Bagdogra airport and drive me the final 85km (50mi) to Darjeeling. It certainly looks good on paper. . .

4:10am
My alarm goes off. My first thought of the day: Why must they schedule flights so freakin' early?. . .

4:15am
The driver calls and tells me he's downstairs. He is scheduled to pick me up at 4:45am. He's early, but at least he's here. . .I tell him I'll be down in 20 or 30 minutes.

4:45am
We leave for the airport.

5:40am
We arrive at the airport. The first leg of the journey is complete, and without incident.

5:44am
I present my passport and a copy of my flight itinerary to the soldier at the airport entrance. My papers appear to be in order and I am allowed inside.

5:47am
The check-in line is very short this morning so I choose that option over the self-check-in computer kiosk-thingy option.

5:50am
My turn. I present my passport and flight itinerary to the airline representative.

5:51am
I am told that my flight to Delhi has been cancelled. They choose not to give me a reason. I choose not to ask, as it really sort of doesn't matter, at least not this early in the morning. OK. . .don't panic. . .there are lots of flights from Bangalore to Delhi. . .

5:52am
I am told that the next available flight to Delhi is on another airline and it leaves at 7:25am. I ask if that flight will get me into Delhi in time to make my connecting flight to Guwahati/Bagdogra. I am told that I will still make that connecting flight. Furthermore, the airline rep tells me that my flight from Delhi to Guwahati/Bagdogra will leave from terminal 1B. She even writes it on my itinerary so I won't forget. I think both of us are hoping this saves me a few minutes at the Delhi airport. I am handed over to another airline rep and I am asked to wait while he goes somewhere else to make the new flight arrangements. Why does he need to go somewhere else. . .Why can't they just do that right here?. . .

6:00am
The airline rep returns with a copy of an itinerary for the other airline's flight to Delhi. That's nice, but I guess I was really expecting an actual boarding pass instead. He tells me if this flight is acceptable then he will take me over to the other airline's reservation counter and finalize the arrangements. I look at the Delhi arrival time of 10:15am and ask again if I will still make my connecting flight. "Yes, of course, sir". OK. . .I don't have a lot of other options here. . . I say "OK". He walks me over to the other airline counter.

6:10am
The other airline agent finally finishes doing whatever it was she was doing and has a chat with my chaperon. Most of it is in Kannadu (the local language) or maybe Hindi. The only words I think I understand are "FEM number", which are repeated a couple of times. FEM must be an acronym of some sort. It's probably some kind of purchase order number. . .a way that one airline can buy a ticket on a flight of another airline. . .surely this is not the first time this has happened. . .why is this conversation taking so long. . .

6:13am
My chaperon says to me "I'll be right back sir. Please stay here." Where else am I going to go?. . .

6:20am
My chaperon is back. Turns out he does not have a FEM number with him. Instead he has a big wad of cash with him. OK. . .He counts out Rs 8600 (roughly $175). The other airline rep takes the cash and hands him a piece of paper. That doesn't look like a boarding pass either. . .now what?. . .

6:22am
My chaperon assures me that everything is fine and this new piece of paper is an updated flight itinerary with a reservation code on it. OK. . .at least that's progress. . .He guides me back to one of the computer kiosks and asks me to check in while he makes a copy of my original flight itinerary.

6:24am
The reservation code seems to be valid. Check-in complete.

6:30am
Still no sign of my chaperon. Where did he have to go to make a copy of that itinerary?. . .

6:35am
He's back. He wishes me a safe journey. I thank him for his help. Crisis averted.

6:45am
I'm through the security check without any trouble. I plunk myself down in a chair by the gate and try to relax. If this flight is even 5 minutes late I'm not going to make that connecting flight. . .please be on time today. . .please. . .please. . .please. . .

7:00am
The boarding process begins. At least I got lucky with my seat assignment. . .3F. . .right up front. . .I'll be one of the first people off the airplane in Delhi. . .

7:30am
The airplane doors are shut, but we're still sitting on the tarmac. It's OK. . .they always pad their flight times a bit. . .don't they?. . .

7:36am
The captain makes the following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen. Sorry for the delay. There are currently about 10 aircraft awaiting departure. We think we're #2 or #3 on that list." He thinks we're #2 or #3?. . .how can he not know exactly where he is in the take-off order?. . .seriously. . .how can he not know?. . .

7:45am
Wheels up. Finally on the way to Delhi.

10:15am
Still in the air. I thought we were supposed to be on the ground already. . .this is not good. . .the Captain announces an estimated landing time of 10:30am. . .not good. . .

10:28am
Touchdown! What are the chances that my connecting flight is delayed for some reason?. . .I think that's my only hope right now. . .

10:31am
Still taxiing.

10:35am
We have finally stopped; just not at an actual gate attached to the actual terminal. We're parked on the tarmac. Oh. . .it's one of these Indian airport deals. . .we're all going to pile out of the plane and into a shuttle bus which will takes us to the terminal. . .my advantageous right-up-front seat has lost it's advantage. . .

10:40am
Onto the bus. . .to the arrivals terminal. . .off the bus. . .through the terminal. . .quickly. . .out the exit. . .

10:41am
I ask two separate people where terminal 1B is, just to double check. Both point me in the same direction. I half walk, half run. . .

10:47am
I arrive at the terminal. There's a check-in window outside the terminal. I hand the airline rep my paperwork. . .only to have her tell me "this is terminal 1A, not 1B". . .terminal 1B is actually on the opposite side. . .from whence I came. . .(my thoughts are not suitable for all audiences at this point in time). . .I ask her the status of my connecting flight. She cannot tell me, but she says that most flights have been delayed this morning. . .I allow a glimmer of hope to enter my mind as I set off back to the correct terminal. . .

10:53am
Terminal 1B. The check-in desk. "I'm sorry sir, but your flight has already left". I ask if they have another flight to Bagdogra today. "No, sir". Of course they don't. . .I ask if any other airlines have a flight to Bagdogra today. "I don't know sir. You'll need to check with them". She directs me to the other airline. . .again. . .why don't they have access to important information like this?. . .

10:54am
"I'm sorry sir, our flight to Bagdogra has just left. . ." Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!. . .I politely ask if there are any other airlines with flights to Bagdogra today. "I don't know sir, you might check with that airline over there". . ."you might check". . .yea, I just might at that. . .since you are being absolutely no help whatsoever. . . I think this other airline is going to be my last option. . .as I don't see any other airlines nearby. . .

10:55am
"Our flight to Bagdogra is just leaving, sir". . .Aaaaahh. . .wait. . .she said "leaving", not "left". . .didn't she?. . ."Is there anyway you can get me on that flight?" "I don't know sir". "Please". "You'll have to purchase a ticket, sir". "Yes, whatever!" "OK, sir. May I have your passport and your credit card?" I have absolutely no idea how much they charge me for this ticket. They don't tell me and I don't ask, because at this point in time its really really not very important. I just need to get on an airplane, any airplane, that's going to get me to Bagdogra today. . .

11:39am
I am on an airplane, albeit with another airline, flying to Bagdogra via Guwahati. "Relief" doesn't begin to describe my feelings right now. . .Crap. . .I'll need to contact the hotel and let them know that I'll be late arriving in Bagdogra. . .I ask one of the flight attendants what time we will reach Bagdogra. She tells me "We land in Guhawati at 2pm and then we have a 45 minute layover". OK. . .that's not exactly what I asked her, let me try this again. "But what time will be land in Bagdogra?" "Sir, we land in Guhawati at 2pm and then we have a 45 minute layover". Are you kidding me here? I do not ask my question a third time. I pull out my original flight itinerary to figure out the flying time from Guwahati to Bagdogra: 45 minutes. OK. . .that means I should now be landing in Bagdogra at about 3:30pm. Now to call the hotel. . .do I have their number with me? I must. Wait. . .they sent me a text message a week or two ago with my reservation confirmation. . .

11:40am
I scroll through my text messages and find the one from the hotel. . .That's weird. . .there doesn't seem to be an actual phone number attached to this message, just the hotel name, which doesn't do me a whole lot of good right now. . .but I do have a printout of the confirmation with me. . .that should have a phone number on it for sure. I dig out this piece of paper and sure enough there's a phone number: 0091-354-2258721-3. Hmmmm. . .that's a weird looking phone number, even for India. . .I recognize 91 as the Indian country code. . .but that leading 00 doesn't make sense to me, and that trailing 3 makes even less sense. . .I dial the number as printed. It does not go through. Not a huge surprise. Extremely aggravating. . ."yes". . .surprising. . ."no". . .OK. . .I should be able to figure this out. Let me try and take the numbers that do make sense and turn it into a phone number. I'll replace the 00 with the magic + sign (interpreted as the international access code) and ignore that last -3 altogether. . .

11:41am
Not only does the call go through, but it actually goes through to the actual hotel. I let them know I'll be arriving a little later than expected, 3:30pm, but that I am still arriving today. They say "Thank you, sir. No problem". OK. . .I feel a little better now. . .but. . .

11:42am
I am pretty physically and mentally exhausted. My travels these past couple of months has started to really wear on me. I'm not sure if I can take much more of this. . .I desperately just want to be get to Darjeeling without any more unnecessary drama. . .Is that asking too much?. . .is it?. . .

2:07pm
Touchdown in Guwahati. OK. . .one step closer to Bagdogra. . .one step closer to Darjeeling. . .

2:50pm
Take-off from Guwahati. Headed to Bagdogra. Maybe the hard part of this trip is over. . .please let it be over. . .

3:36pm
Touchdown in Bagdogra. Just one more leg of the journey to go. Almost there. . .please let there be someone standing out side holding some kind of sign with my name on it. . .puh. . .leeeeeaaaase. . .

3:38pm
As I get off the airplane I notice that the control tower has the tarmac/apron elevation printed on it, as most do in this country. It reads: 126m/414ft. Darjeeling is located at 7000ft. Wait a minute. . .you mean I still need to climb some 6500 feet to get up to Darjeeling. . .6500ft. . .wow. . .that's going to take awhile, isn't it?. . .wow. . .6500 feet. . .

3:41pm
I exit the terminal and scan the handful of people standing around holding placards (most of which seem to be plain 8.5x11 pieces of paper with hand-written names on them). . .and nothing. . .absolutely nothing. . .OK. . .we'll give it a few minutes. . .I can call the hotel again if necessary. . .I am still extremely tired, but not too worried. . .

3:43pm
This little old guy comes up, stands in front of me, stares at me for a few seconds, and then whips out a little sign from behind his back. . .and. . .the little sign has my name on it! Yes!. . .

3:45pm
The little old guy hands me over to my driver and we get underway. The car is a pretty heavy duty 4x4; a jeep-like vehicle.

We drive through the town of Bagdogra, take a left at the town of Siguluri, and then at. . .

4:00pm
We take a right onto NH55 (National Highway 55). The road immediately begins to climb. . .

4:15pm
Wait. . .did I say road? Allow me to rephrase: this is not a road. . .this is crater-sized potholes with the occasional patch of chewed-up asphalt thrown in. . .this is unbelievable. . .

5:00pm
It's now pretty dark. The road conditions have actually deteriorated, which I didn't think was possible half an hour ago. "Bone-rattling", "bone-jarring", "unrelenting" are words that come to mind. I'm going to be sore tomorrow. . .maybe before tomorrow. . .no seat belts. . .who needs seat belts?. . .I have an incredible headache from repeatedly smacking it on the car ceiling as we negotiate the gigantic holes in the so-called National Highway 55. . .it's maybe a lane and a half wide most of the way. . .narrow enough that as we approach a car coming down the mountain both of us need to slow, or even stop, to make sure there's enough room to pass safely. . .or what passes for "safely" around here. . .

5:10pm
The headlights illuminate a small sign: Darjeeling 40km. Still 25 miles to go. . .only about half way there. . .I don't know how much more of this I can take. . .is anything worth this?. . .

5:15pm
We pass through the small town of Kurseong. The road does get a little better from here. . .or maybe it doesn't. . .I don't know. . .maybe my entire body is just numb at this point. It's also now pitch black outside. . .

6:15pm
We arrive at the hotel. Finally. It's a beautiful sight, although I'm so stiff and sore I can barely get out of the car.

From my door in Bangalore to the hotel door in Darjeeling: 13 and a half hours.

What a brutal day. . .absolutely brutal. . .I think the travel gods are saying "OK, that's about all the travelling we're going to let you do in India". Believe me when I say "I am listening. . ."

. . .and believe me when I say I'm trying really really hard not to think about what travails might await me on the journey back to Bangalore in a couple of days. . .if this is my last India jaunt I might as well make the most of it. . .so let's get a good night's sleep and then see what Darjeeling is all about. . .shall we?. . .

Delhi: The 3 Hour Tour

2008-11-13T13:47:00.014+05:30

Not originally on the planned itinerary. . .

Location: 28.61 degrees north latitude; 77.23 degrees east longitude
Elevation: 784 feet
Weather: Foggy, mid 70s.

Delhi has been an important center of commerce for literally thousands of years as it sits on a n ancient, major west-east trade route. In 1911 the British announced that they would move their capital from Calcutta to Delhi and proceeded to build the new Delhi (appropriately named New Delhi). Construction was finally completed in 1931. However, only 16 years later India would win independence from British rule and Delhi became it's new capital.

My flight from Agra back to Delhi is cancelled due to poor visibility. What to do? There is only a single flight from Agra back to Delhi every evening, and the weather could be just as bad, if not worse, tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. Delhi is only about 200km (120 miles) from Agra. When the airline cancels the flight I turn to the gentleman standing next to me and ask "Would you like to split a cab up Delhi with me? It's probably better to be stuck there than here". He says "I absolutely agree". At this point in time I still naively think there's a chance that I'm going to make my Delhi to Bangalore flight as it's only 6pm and that flight doesn't leave Delhi until 8:45pm. 120 miles in 2.5 hours? Why not? I'll tell you why not: this is India. What should be open highway between Agra and Delhi is the usual chaotic mess. It takes 3.5 hours. So I spend the night in a hotel near the airport and arrange for an almost-half-day tour of Delhi before my next-day flight departs at 3pm. The other casualty of the trip is my camera battery, which is totally drained from the past two days in Agra. I then discover that I have forgotten to pack the recharger. I have also failed to pack clean clothes for this unexpected extra day. I do manage to find a little shop near the first tourist spot (the Red Fort) that sells those little disposable cameras. It's better than nothing. I should have bought two, as I discover, after I'm already inside the Red Fort, that there are only 28 exposures on the little thing. I immediately put myself on a photo diet; taking a picture only when I really feel the need.

I see a lot in the 3 hours, my camera does not.

I return to Bangalore and get the camera film developed and the images put onto a CD in order to transfer them to my laptop (and then to this blog). I pop the CD into the drive and copy the images. I open one of the images just to see what I have. . .and what I see is this. . .

. . .and the other 27 images look just as bad. Crap. I try various image manipulation tools to see if they are in any way salvageable. I finally hit on something that is less than horrible. . .and upon reflection (probably more like rationalization) maybe even appropriate for a city as old as Delhi. . .

Here is the record of my brief, 3 hour, photo-limited, color-challenged, whirlwind tour of Delhi. . .

The Red Fort

The Red Fort was built during the reign of Emperor Shah Jahan (of Taj Mahal fame and Ackbar the Great's grandson) and completed in 1648. Emperor Jahan never completed his move from Agra to Delhi; he was deposed and imprisoned by his son in 1658. Every year on Indian Independence Day (August 15) the Red Fort hosts the prime minister's address to the nation. It really is red (sandstone). . .

Jama Masjid

This mosque is the largest in all of India. It was built by Shah Jahan and closely resembles the mosque built at Fatehpur Sikri.

India Gate Memorial

The India Gate Memorial is dedicated to all the Indian soldiers who fought and died in foreign wars. . .

The Central Secretariat

and the President's estate. . .way back there in the haze. . .this is as close as one is allowed. . .

The Taj Mahal

2008-11-12T11:00:00.015+05:30

I am here for nearly four hours. . .it seems like only four minutes. . .

My first glimpse of the Taj Mahal through the early morning fog from across the Yamuna River. . .I hope and hope and hope some more that the fog lifts as the day progresses. . .

"The Taj Mahal is not a piece of architecture as other buildings are, but a proud passion of an emperor’s love in living stone." - English poet Sir Edwin Arnold

"It appears like a perfect pearl on an azure ground. The effect is such I have never experienced from any work of art." - British painter Hodges

"I cannot tell what I think. I do not know how to criticize such a building but I can tell what I feel. I would die tomorrow to have such another over me." - Wife of British officer Colonel Sleeman

"Did you ever build a castle in the air? Here is one, brought down to earth and fixed for the wonder of ages." - American novelist Bayard Taylor

"You know Shah Jahan, life and youth, wealth and glory, they all drift away in the current of time. You strove therefore, to perpetuate only the sorrow of your heart? Let the splendor of diamond, pearl and ruby vanish? Only let this one teardrop, this Taj Mahal, glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time, forever and ever." - Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore

My Taj Mahal expectations are quite high. . .but how could they not be? It's one of the New 7 Wonders of the World. . .it's considered architecturally perfect. . .it's supposed to be one of the greatest pieces of art ever created. . .it's the embodiment of love. . .

. . .but at the same time I wonder if it can possibly live up to the hype?. . .how can it?

The Story of the Taj Mahal

Mumtaz Mahal and Emperor Shah Jahan

The year is 1631. The Emperor Shah Jahan has ruled over the Mughal empire for the past four years. Emperor Jahan's second wife Arjumand Bano, on whom he bestowed the title Mumtaz Mahal (Exalted one of the Palace or Pearl of the Palace), dies giving birth to their 14th child. It is believed that during her last moments, Mumtaz Mahal obtained a promise from Shah Jahan that he would build the world's most beautiful monument in her memory. But the promise would have to wait; the emperor is so grief stricken that he goes into mourning and seclusion. An entire year (possibly two) passes before he emerges from his isolation. His jet black hair has turned snow white. He immediately begins design and construction of the promised monument. The mausoleum will be known as the Taj Mahal (Crown Palace).

Ustad Ahmad Lahauri is generally considered to be the principal designer of the Taj Mahal. Designers and workers toil for some 22 years. The Taj Mahal is constructed using materials from all over India and Asia. Over 1,000 elephants are used to transport building materials during construction. The translucent white marble is brought from Rajasthan, the jasper from Punjab, jade and crystal from China, the turquoise from Tibet, the lapis lazulis from Afghanistan, the sapphire from Sri Lanka, and the carnelian from Arabia. In all, twenty eight types of precious and semi-precious stones are inlaid into the white marble. Principle construction is completed in 1654.

I wonder what the citizens of that era thought of the Taj Mahal upon it's completion. Would they appreciate it? Could they appreciate it?

The History of the Taj Mahal

(I'm stalling for time, still waiting for the fog to lift. Some good news: it does seem to be getting brighter and brighter out here.)

Soon after the Taj Mahal's completion, Shah Jahan is overthrown by his son Aurangzeb and imprisoned in nearby Agra Fort. Shah Jahan can only gaze out at the distant memorial to his beloved through a window until his death in 1666, when Aurangzeb buries him next to his wife in the Taj Mahal.

By the late 19th century, parts of the Taj Mahal have fallen badly into disrepair. During the time of the Indian rebellion of 1857, the Taj Mahal is defaced by British soldiers and government officials, who chisel out precious stones and lapis lazulis from its walls. At the end of the 19th century British viceroy Lord Curzon orders a massive restoration project, which is completed in 1908.

In 1942, the Indian government erects scaffolding in the hopes of fooling German and the Japanese bomber pilots. During the India-Pakistan wars of 1965 and 1971, scaffolding was again erected. The Taj Mahal survives and endures.

In 1983, the Taj Mahal becomes a UNESCO World Heritage Site and was cited as "the jewel of Muslim art in India and one of the universally admired masterpieces of the world's heritage."

(The fog looks like it's continuing to thin out with each passing moment.)

The Layout and Design of the Taj Mahal

Satellite view of the Taj Mahal

The Taj Mahal is laid out in classic Mughal style: a square quartered by watercourses, with an ornamental marble plinth at the center. It's aligned with the cardinal points of the compass. The long axis of the compound is the north-south axis. The inner compound is entered through the impressive 100-ft tall red sandstone north gate, or Dawaza. The mosque is to the west of the main mausoleum structure. The identical building to the east (the Jawab) is there purely to maintain the symmetry of the grounds (it was probably used as guest quarters).

The white marble mausoleum centerpiece is set atop a raised marble platform, a seemingly simple decision as precursor tombs share a similar design feature but quite possibly one of the most important decisions in all of architectural history. The raised platform means that the visual backdrop to the central mausoleum is only sky. Nothing else. There's nothing to interfere or compete with the mausoleum. Whether by design or by decree it's a simply stunning effect.

The 120-ft high minarets that grace the corners of the mausoleum are purely decorative. They are tall but so tall as to detract from the central dome. The minarets are no longer perpendicular, but it is also thought that they were built tilted slightly away from the mausoleum, so they would not fall on the mausoleum in the event of an earthquake. The mausoleum is topped off by four small onion-shaped domes surrounding the impressive central dome, which is 58 feet in diameter and 213 feet in height.

(the skies have cleared quite a bit, so I think it's time. . .)

The Auxiliary Buildings of the Taj Mahal

Looking back at the west entrance gate from inside the Taj Mahal compound. . .

the south entry gate. . .

the east entry gate (remarkably similar to the west gate, isn't it?!). . .

the north entry gate, the Darwaza, which leads to the inner compound. . .

and the first little peek of the white marble mausoleum through the Darwaza archway. . .

the Mosque on the west flank of the mausoleum. . .

and the Jawab on the east flank. . .

The grounds of the Taj Mahal are generous, calming, soothing, peaceful. The auxiliary buildings are impressive all by themselves. . .but still one more structure awaits. . .

The Mausoleum of the Taj Mahal

It is more impressive, more perfect than I thought it would be. . .

If Nature could fashion marble, I think this is what Nature would create. . .

It just feels like the Taj Mahal belongs to this place and to this time. . .I suspect this has always been true. . .I suspect this will always be true. . .

I now want to see the Taj Mahal under a rising sun. . .I now want to see the Taj Mahal under a setting sun. . .I now want to see the Taj Mahal under a full moon. . .

I sit and wish for a moment of silence. . .a moment of reverence this masterpiece so rightly and so richly deserves. . .just one moment. . .but alas that moment does not come. . .but I still just sit and wish. . .it just seems like the thing to do. . .

and Finally. . .

Emperor Shah Jahan described the Taj Mahal with the following words:

Should guilty seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes.
In this world this edifice has been made;
To display thereby the creator's glory.

He has created an architectural marvel. . .
He has created something wonderful. . .something timeless. . .something magical. . .
He has created it simply because his love asked him to. . .

Time seems to have both stood still and sped up. . .all at once. . .I am here for almost four hours. . .it does feel like only four minutes. . .I would like to return. . .even for just four more minutes. . .

Agra and Surrounds

2008-11-11T22:22:00.036+05:30

Agra: Home to the Majestic Architecture of the Mughals. . .

Location: 27.18 degrees north latitude; 78.02 degrees east longitude
Elevation: 561 feet
Weather: temps in the upper 70s, with very foggy/hazy skies

The Mughals were an Islamic imperial power of the Indian subcontinent. Mughal rule began in the early 16th century, spread to most of the subcontinent by the late 17th and early 18th centuries, and ended in the mid-19th century with the rise of British colonialism. The classic period of the Mughal Empire starts with the accession of Akbar the Great in 1556, continues with his son Jehangir (1605-1627), his son Shah Jahan of Taj Mahal fame (1627-1658) and ends with the death of Emperor Aurangzeb in 1707. In those relatively short 150 years the Mughals bestowed upon the world an incredible collection of architectural wonders. Fortunately some of those marvels still survive intact today and there may be no better place that bears witness to the majesty of the Mughals than the city of Agra in northern India. . .

Chini-Ka-Rauza

Chini-Ka-rauza is fairly well hidden down along the bank of the Yamuna River. We can't get there along the usual road because there's a wedding ceremony blocking that particular street this morning, which is not an uncommon occurrence in this country. One is just expected to find another way to get where one needs to go. The driver stops about three times to ask for directions and/or confirmation that "this" street will get us to our desired destination. It feels like we're getting close, as I think I see the river, but what do I know?!. A minute or two later I do see the river, but now the last turn we want to take is blocked by a truck. The owner/driver is either nowhere to be found or simply doesn't feel like moving his truck at the moment. We walk the rest of the way, but we arrive nonetheless.

The Chini-Ka-Rauza is a Persian-style tomb of Afzal Khan, a poet and high official in the court of Shah Jahan. It was built between 1628 and 1639. It was covered with bright blue tiles back in the day; only a few remain. It must have been a stunning sight when it was new. . .

A couple of the auxiliary structures. . .

Itimad-ud-Daulah

The Itimad-ud-Daulah is the tomb of Mizra Ghiyas Beg, a Persian nobleman who was Emperor Jehangir's chief minister. His daughter, Nur Jahan, built the tomb between 1622 and 1628.

a lot of the following is borrowed from Wikipedia:
The mausoleum itself is set on a base about 50 meters square and about 1 meter high. The mausoleum is about 23 meters square. 13 meter high hexagonal towers adorn each corner. Small in comparison to many other Mughal-era tombs, it is sometimes described as a jewel box. Its garden layout and use of white marble (the first Mughal structure built with this stone instead of red sandstone), pietra dura, inlay designs, and intricate latticework foreshadow many elements found in it's more famous neighbor that sits across the Yamuna River.

The walls are white marble from Rajasthan encrusted with semi-precious stone decorations - cornelian, jasper, lapis lazuli, onyx, and topaz in images of cypress trees and wine bottles, or more elaborate decorations like cut fruit or vases containing bouquets. Light to the interior passes through delicate jali screens of intricately carved white marble.

Many of Nur Jahan's relatives are interred in the mausoleum. The only asymmetrical element of the entire complex is that the cenotaphs (tombs) of her father and mother have been set side-by-side, offset from center, a formation replicated in the Taj Mahal.

The actual tomb is flanked by four red sandstone gates. The east gate is the primary entrance gate. . .

The north gate. . .

The south gate. . .

and the east gate (plus east gate detail). . .

One of the riverside lookout posts on the western side of the complex. . .

The marble tomb of Mizra Ghiyas Beg (with the fog-obscured southern gate on the left and the western gate on the right). . .

Some of the intricate wall details. . .

and precious stone inlay work. . .

A chance to just sit and contemplate one's surroundings is a truly precious commodity, especially in the early morning quiet. . .

Fatehpur Sikri: Dargah Mosque

The Fatehpur Sikri mosque (Jama Masjid) is still in use today. It was constructed along with the rest of Fatehpur Sikri in 1571. It is surrounded by huge walls. . .

The main entrance is through the 54m-high (130ft) Buland Darwaza (Victory Gate) built to commemorate Emperor Ackbar's military victory in Gujarat. This gate is thought to be the largest in all of Asia. It's size alone is stunning. . .the design details and proportions even more so. . .it's an entry gate truly fit for an emperor. . .

The grand central courtyard. . .you could easily play a game (or even two!) of cricket in this huge space. . .the white marble structure is the tomb of the aforementioned Shaikh Salim Chishti. It was completed in 1581. . .

The stone slabs mark the graves of the royal family members. . .

A couple more closer-up views of the tomb of Shaikh Salim Chishti. . .

A few of the interior spaces with their elaborate colonnades and archways and all the intricate sandsone carvings and paintwork that typify Mughal architecture. . .

This family wants a picture of me, so I think it's only fair that I get a picture of them. After a few (obviously understandable) hand signals, they oblige. . .

Fatehpur Sikri

Mughal Emperor Ackbar visited Fatehpur Sikri to consult the Sufi Saint Shaikh Salim Christi who predicted the birth of an heir to the Mughal throne. When the prophecy came true, Ackbar built the palace and city and moved his new capital here in 1571. However Sikri suffered from a lack of a sustainable water supply and the city was abandoned shortly after Ackbar's death in 1605. Nevertheless, Fatehpur Sikri remains a reminder of the Mughals at their architectural best. Fatehpur Sikri is about 40km (25mi) west of Agra. Fatehpur Sikri is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

(Please add the following to my descriptions of all these photos: "I think this is ". Very few buildings are marked with any kind of sign, the palace complex itself is a bit of a maze, and I can't always match up guide book descriptions with actual structures.)

The Diwan-i-Am, or Hall of Public Audience, where the emperor meets the general public. . .

A handful of views of the Palace of Jodh Bai, a collection of structures built around a central stone courtyard. . .

The Birbal Bhavan, the structure in the far background of the below photo and in the following three photos, was probably used by two of Akbar's senior wives. . .

A random little structure on the edge of the palace grounds. . .

The Palace of the Christian Wife, Mariam (who was the mother of Ackbar's successor Jehangir). . .

The Diwan-i-Khas (Hall of Private Audiences). . .

The ornately carved central column in the Diwan-i-Khas. This photo is not mine. I pull it off the web, as it's quite dark inside this building this morning and my photos do not come out. . .

It is believed that Ackbar sat/stood on top and debated his scholars who stood at the ends of the stone bridges emanating from this central column. Remember, everything you're seeing here is made out of sandstone. . .the skill of the craftsmen is truly awe-inspiring. . .

Maybe the treasury building (on the extreme left), maybe the Astrologer's Kiosk in the middle of frame, but for sure the 5-story structure towering over everything in the background is the Panch Mahal. The Panch Mahal was used exclusively by the ladies of the court as their observation point for all the public goings-on in the courtyard below. . .

The small reflecting pool in the courtyard is the Char Chaman tank. . .

One of the palace complex's entry gates. . .this would be the front door. . .

and this the back door. . .

It is unusual for a young Indian woman to agree to have her photo taken (not that I make a habit of approaching young Indian women!), so when one actually asks I do not hesitate. . .

Ackbar's Mausoleum

Sikandra, about 12 km (7mi) northwest of Agra, is the site of the last resting place of Mughal Emperor Ackbar the Great. The vast, red-ochre sandstone tomb was planned by Akbar himself, a custom which the Mughals followed religiously. Akbar's son Jehangir completed the construction of this pyramidal tomb in 1613.

The mausoleum is laid out in typical Mughal style: the tomb in the center surrounded by gardens and four flanking gates. Again, as with Itimad-ud-Daulah, the east gate shown below is the main entry gate to the mausoleum complex and is complete with three-story minarets. It is red sandstone with complementary white-marble inlay designs. . .

The view of the north gate through a small decorative arch. . .

and a few more views of the north gate. . .

The west gate. . .obviously not in very good shape. . .but then again it's 400 years old and may have been used for artillery practice by a certain colonial power in the mid-19th century. . .

The south gate. . .

The tomb itself. . .again red sandstone with marble accents and inlays. . .

This archway's intricate lattice work is made entirely of white marble. . .I know!. . .I suppose I wouldn't believe it either unless I saw it in person. . .oh wait. . .I do see it in person. . .right this moment in fact. . .and. . .it is marble. . .

Agra Fort

most of the following is borrowed from Wikipedia:
Agra Fort was originally a brick fort held by the Rajputs. It was mentioned for the first time in 1080 AD when a Ghaznavide force captured it. Sikandar Lodi (1487-1517) was the first Sultan of Delhi who shifted his court to Agra and lived in the fort. He governed the country from here and Agra assumed the importance of a 2nd capital. The Mughals defeated the Afghans and seized control of the fort in 1556. Realizing the importance of its central situation, Akbar decided to make it his capital and arrived in Agra in 1558. His historian, Abdul Fazal, recorded that this was a brick fort known as 'Badalgarh' . It was in a ruined condition and Akbar had it rebuilt with red sandstone. Architects laid the foundation and it was built with bricks in the inner core with sandstone on external surfaces. Some 1,444,000 builders worked on it for eight years, completing it in 1573. The fort is crescent shaped, flattened on the east with a long, nearly straight wall facing the Yamuna River, and has a total perimeter of 2.4 km (1.4 mi). Agra Fort is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

OK. . .so it's the mid-16th century and you want to design a fort. Where do you start?

Well. . .you'd start with massive walls, some as high as 70 feet, and ring the entire fort with them. Of course the walls would certainly have to be double castellated ramparts of red sandstone punctuated at regular intervals by round bastions. . .we have an emperor to protect you know. . .

. . .and a moat!. . .you'd have to have a moat. . .wide and deep. . .and just for good measure you'd fill it with crocodiles. . .

. . .and lookout towers. . .you'd have to have lookout towers. . .spaced around the fort. . .really tall lookput towers. . .from which you could see any and all potential invading forces long before they reached any of your entry gates. . .

. . .and speaking of entry gates. . .you'd only have a couple of them. . .with relatively small openings so any invading forces couldn't storm through in anything other than small groups. . .say maybe a dozen soldiers at a time. . .

. . .an even better thought. . .you'd have mutiple layers of entry gates. . .and each gate would lead into a small courtyard. . .and the next gate would be at a right angle to the last so the courtyard would initially look like a deadend. . .just to confuse and infuriate the invaders. . . who would have to slow way down in order to figure out what to do next. . .does the term "sitting ducks" mean anything?. . .

. . .and now for the icing on the proverbial fort cake. . .each subsequent entry gate is going to be uphill from the previous one. . .so not only have you thinned out and strung out the number of invaders, slowed them down considerably if not outright stopped them in their track, confused and infuriated them, you are actually making them run (or at least trying to run) uphill in whatever heavy gear they happen to be wearing into battle. . .

. . .brilliant. . .absolutely brilliant. . .job well done. . .

I suspect your fort design will be copied over and over again, throughout the world, for the next couple of centuries. . .

Let's take a peek inside Agra Fort. . .well. . .everywhere except behind that wall. That area back there contains the mosque and it's closed to us persons of the unwashed masses persuasion. . .which is disappointing because the domed building(s) back there look pretty cool. . .

But here is what we can explore. We begin with the Jehangiri Mahal, a palace built by Ackbar for his son Jehangir. It blends Indian and Central Asian architectural styles, a reminder of the Mughals' Afghani roots. . .

The Diwan-i-Am, or Hall of Public Audiences, where the emperor greeted and listened to the common folk. . .

The Diwan-i-Khas, or Hall of Private Audiences, was reserved for important dignitaries or foreign representatives. . .today that would be me. . .

The Khas Mahal and Musamman Burj are the white-marble palace and octagonal tower where Shah Jahan, husband of Mumtaj Mahal and builder of the Taj Mahal (but more on that whole story later on), was imprisoned for eight years until his death in 1666. . .but at least he could see his wife's tomb from his prison tower (at least on a clear day). . .

I think these next three are of the back and back courtyard of the Jehangiri Palace. . .

Some of the beautiful detail work within the various rooms and structures around Agra Fort. This first is from the Shish Mahal (Mirror Palace). . .

marble. . .

marble. . .

marble. . .

marble. . .

sandstone. . .

The late afternoon sun makes a brief appearance just as I step into this room. The glow of the sun on the red sandstone is mesmerizing (probably more so in person but the photo actually comes out better than I expected). . .

and that's the end of the day at Agra Fort. . .

Local Fauna Update

Please add water buffalo and gazelle to the "Indigenous Critters Seen While in India" list. Thank you.

The water buffaloes are literally everywhere in this city and there are gazelles grazing on the garden lawns of Ackbar's Mausoleum.

and Finally. . .

Winter seems to have come a little early this year. December and January are notorious for bringing heavy fog to this part of India. There is heavy fog this morning and the skies never fully clear this afternoon. The hazy fog helps to keep the temperatures down a bit (welcome), but it also tends to shroud everything in a bit of shapeless gloom (unwelcome). Architecture and monuments such as these deserve bright sunshine and clear blue skies to bring forth all of their incredible design and details. I'm here for another day. I visit most of the above on Day 1. My fingers are crossed that tomorrow 's weather is better (or at the very least not any worse) because. . .

There is one more Mughal monument here in Agra. . .I think it's called the Taj Mahal. . .some "monument to love" or something. . .supposedly one of the New 7 Wonders of the World. . .probably worth at least a quick look. . .you know. . .since I'm already here. . .

But I think I'll save that visit for the next installment of "Taking on the Indian Subcontinent". . .

Jaipur: Amber Palace & Jaigadh Fort

2008-10-28T14:44:00.020+05:30

Author's note: This is part 2 of my two-part Jaipur blog. Please be sure to scroll down the page a bit to read the first part, simply titled Jaipur.

Simply spectacular. . .

Amber is located amongst the hills about 7 miles north of Jaipur and was originally the capital of Jaipur state. Amber Palace was constructed in 1592. Jaigadh Fort, built in 1726, sits above the palace and served as the first point of lookout and the last line of defense for Amber. Amber Palace is all about form, Jaigadh Fort is all about function. , the fort is solid and sturdy. The fort was never captured or even breached. The original city of Amber is surrounded by great fortress walls that crisscross the surrounding hills.

Amber Palace

The Palace is all whimsy and fantasy. The first views of the palace from the hired car are pretty incredible. It reminds me of a lavish sandcastle draped along the little hilltop ridge. I know there's no way for these photos to do it justice, but it's the best I can do. . .

There's a small courtyard down at the very bottom with some interesting architectural elements. . .

There's really no bad view of the palace. . .

Let's begin the hike up to the palace. . .stopping every few minutes to admire the view and snap some photos. . .

Inside the main palace courtyard, looking back at the entrance gate. . .

Yes, that's an elephant in the courtyard. It's one of the ways you can make the trip up to the palace (however, my guidebook says that the treatment of the animals is suspect, so I choose to use my own two feet). This should start to give you a good sense of just how big this palace actually is. The entrance gate is actually visible in the very first photo at the top of the page: it's that little opening just right of center.

Looking up at the next level of the palace to be explored. . .

which all begins at the top of these stairs through another intricately decorated entry gate. . .

the first inner courtyard. . .and yet another gate up to the next level of palace grounds. . .

and then the following next courtyard reveals the Jai Mandir (Hall of Victory). . .

and then it's up to the next level, where the actual residencies begin. . .

The whole residence portion is a series of narrow passageways, narrower stairways, and very short doorways. I bang my head twice climbing a stairway or stepping through a door from one room to another. The second time is hard enough for me to want (maybe need) to check the top of my head every minute or so for the next while just to make sure I'm not bleeding. So be forewarned: if you visit the palace. . .mind your head!

Most places within the palace offer stunning views of the fort perched on the hilltop above. . .

which is a great segue to our next stop: Jaigadh Fort. . .

Jaigadh Fort

The first view of Jaigadh Fort from the road leading to Amber Palace. . .

It's about a 20 minute walk from the palace up to the fort, but it's all uphill. The rewards are well worth the effort. . .

Again, the fort is all about function, so it may not be much to look at, but you can imagine how daunting it would be to be an invader and see this thing lurking up on top of the hill knowing that you needed to breach this place to truly capture Amber.

The entire fort is ringed by a walkway, with it's crenellated battlements, watchtowers (including the Diwa Burj noted in the informational sign above), and spy holes. . .

I don't see any invading hordes anywhere. . .I think the fort is safe for another day. . .

The watchtowers directly above the palace, with their spectacular views. . .

Some photos of the "residence" portion of the fort. The royals needed to have some bit of comfort should they ever be forced to flee up here. . .marble floors and well-kept gardens are the order of the day. . .

The Jaya Vana. . .the world's largest wheeled cannon. . .(seriously, I wouldn't make something like that up!)

Even the camels need to break in the midday sun. The only difference seems to be that they don't necessarily need to find some shade, as we mere humans do. . .

And Finally. . .

One last look at Amber Palace from high above in one of the lookout towers of Jaigardh Fort. . .

Oh. . .wait. . .one last final thing. . .

On the way out of Amber Palace. . .a snake charmer charming his snake. . .not the greatest photo, but this was as close as I was going to get. . .(it's just below the guy-in-white's screen right elbow). . .

Jaipur

2008-10-27T17:27:00.026+05:30

Jaipur is what I always thought India would be. . .

Location: 26.93 degrees north latitude, 75.82 degrees east longitude
Elevation: 1400 feet
Weather: low 90's (mid 30's Celsius), low humidity, hazy blue skies

Jaipur (The Pink City) is the capital of the northwestern state of Rajasthan (named for the Rajputs, warrior clans who claimed origin from the sun, moon, and fire). Jaipur is named for warrior-astronomer and founder Maharaja Jai Singh II who moved his seat of power from the hillside city of Amber. He designed Jaipur according to an ancient Hindu architectural treatise: the city was divided into nine blocks, out of which two consist the state buildings and palaces, whereas the remaining seven blocks were allotted to the public. In order to ensure the security, huge fortification walls were made along with seven strong gates.

In 1876 Maharaja Ram Singh had the entire city painted pink, a color associated with hospitality, to welcome the then Prince of Wales (later to become King Edward VII). As you will see, this tradition has been maintained throughout the intervening years.

The Gates of the Old City

Gate located on the western side of the city. I walk in the smaller, rather narrow, Jaipur has grown outward over the years but the original Old City remains tucked behind it's crenellated walls, which are interrupted by the still functioning gates along it's perimeter. I manage to find my way out (and then back in) most of them; the first one being the Chandpol gate carved into the western city wall, specifically the narrow pedestrian gate shown below just to the left of the white van. I walk past an elderly man sitting on the ground. He can't be more than two feet away from me. There's a small basket in front of him. It takes my brain a second or two to register what my eyes have just seen: there's a cobra in that basket. An actual cobra. I think it's probably asleep, but still. . .that's a real cobra. . .right there! My heart rate spikes as adrenaline shoots through my body. Luckily "flight" wins out over "fight" and I do not linger. Slowly my heart rate returns to normal, but my head is now on a permanent swivel. It's another of those "I'm really in India" moments.

I was certainly hoping for little excitement on my visit to Jaipur, but I don't remember signing up for that much. Wow. . .

A handful of the other Old City gates. My passage through each of them is without any further (and potentially life threatening) incident. . .

and a closeup of the above gate showing the incredibly intricate, hand-painted designs. . .

Out & About

Some of the other sights on my couple-of-hours walking tour of Jaipur.

The Iswari Minar Swarga Sal minaret is a handy visual reference point, as it can be seen from most parts of the Old City.

A few random buildings. Most every building really is painted the same shade of pink. . .

The buildings that are not painted pink, such as the one below, really stand out. . .

There seems to be two schools of thought as to how to display one's wares. The "neat and orderly" school. . .

and the "not so neat and orderly" school, in which everything just seems to spill out from inside the shop all the way down to the street. . .

"Share the Road" takes on a whole new meaning in this part of India. . .

and every once in awhile a real explosion of color catches one's eye. . .

The Jal Mahal. I don't get a chance to explore or even find out more about this (sinking?) palace in the lake. . .

The Central Museum Building

The Central Museum is housed in Albert Hall, which built in the late 19th century by the British, and is a great example of Indo-Saracenic architecture. This style is a combination of native Indian architecture and Gothic revival architecture favored in Victorian England. It's many pillars, courtyards, and archways give a very traditional yet fanciful look.

The City Palace

The City Palace was, and still is, the residence of Jai Singh II, his family, and his descendants. The palace, which sits in the middle of the walled Old City, is entered through one of two gates. . .

The Govind Devji Temple, on the north side of the palace grounds. . .

One of many courtyards of the palace grounds. . .even parts of the palace are painted pink. . .

and one courtyard leads to another. . .

leads to another. . .except you can't go through the gate pictured below, as that leads to the private residence portion of the palace. . .

A couple of the courtyard gates of Pitam Niwas Chowk, all with a peacock-themed design. . .

The Chandra Mahal (the private residence) building looms above the previous courtyard. . .

The Diwan-i-Khas, or Hall of Private Audience. I wait for my private audience with the maharaja, but apparently his schedule is full today. Hopefully he'll have time to see me tomorrow. . .

A couple more courtyards, internal palace gates, and ornate buildings. The maharaja and family are doing all right for themselves. . .

One of the palace corner-boundary markers, I think. . .

Elaborate puppet shows seem to be a well-established tradition in Jaipur. . .

Jantar Mantar

Jantar Mantar is a celestial observatory built by Maharaja Jai Singh II in 1728. Each of the large sculptures is an actual working astronomical instrument. Some track the movement of the sun through the skies, others track heavenly bodies including the constellations of the 12 zodiac signs, still others were used for calculating eclipses. Jai Singh II built five of these around the country but only four remain, and this one in Jaipur is the largest. This park could well be mistaken for any modern sculpture exhibit. It's quite a bit of fun just to wonder among them.

Hawal Mahal

The Hawal Mahal is probably Jaipur's most distinctive landmark building. It is five-stories of delicately carved sandstone. Each successive story gets narrower and narrower; the top level is no more than 10 feet wide. The Hawal Mahal was constructed in 1799 by Maharaja Sawaj Pratap Singh to enable ladies of the royal household to watch "life on the streets of Jaipur" without themselves being seen. The Hawal Mahal as seen from the street. . .

The inner courtyard, private side. . .

Everything you see is carved sandstone, including the honeycomb patterns that surround the upper windows.

Getting closer to the very narrow top. . .

The views from the top. . .

That's the Jantar Mantar obsevatory down there in the middle of the frame. . .

and the city palace just at the left edge of frame. . .

and the sea of traffic below. . .

Nahagarh Fort

Nahargarh Fort was built in 1734 and overlooks the city of Jaipur from it's perch atop a narrow northern ridge.

How does one get up to the Nahargarh Fort? Two options: car or rickshaw via a nice gently ascending road, or a steep, windy, switch-backed cobblestone path. The cobblestone path is definitely the road-less-travelled option and the one I choose. You can just barely make it out in the above photo: it's in the right third of the photo and looks like a dark zigzag pattern carved into the hillside. I have to be redirected by the locals a couple of times before I find where it begins it's climb out of the village. Note to Jaipur tourism officials: a couple of "this way to Nahargarh" signs would be quite beneficial to the visitors to your fine city.

It's my exercise for the afternoon. . .

Views of the fort and it's battelements atop the surrounding countryside. . .

The main building of Narhargarh Fort. It sits perched on the very edge of the cliff. . .

The main entrance gateway. . .

The main inner courtyard. . .

and a few photos of some of the interior spaces. . .

The rooftop of the fort building. . .

The Local Fauna

There's an abundance of animal life in and around the city. Most seem to be domesticated, others probably not so much. I see and smell (it's over 90 degrees Fahrenheit, remember?) the following creatures on my travels: camel, elephant, dog, pig, boar (maybe wild pig? is there a difference?), goat, sheep, lizard, cobra(!), chicken, monkey, cat, rat (dead, so maybe that doesn't count), horse, burro, ox, and of course the ubiquitous cow.

It's like a complete collection of the Chinese Zodiac cycle ("Year of the. . ."s) all in one place. I think the only missing critter is dragon, and maybe I just didn't look hard enough. Or maybe that rather large lizard that scurried into the bushes was not really a lizard at all. . .

And Finally. . .

Came across these familiar items in the Jaipur airport. Haven't seen them anywhere else in India, so an unexpected surprise. Rs 80 ($1.60) each. And before anyone asks me to share. . . sorry. . .they are already gone. I like to snack while I blog. . .

Madurai

2008-10-13T09:42:00.030+05:30

Yous pays your money. . .yous takes your chances. . .

Location: 9.8 degrees North latitude, 78.8 degrees East longitude
Elevation: 330 feet

Madurai was the capital city of the Pandya kings of South India. Madurai's cultural heritage goes back 2500 years, and the city has been an important commercial center since as early as 550 C.E.

The Madurai airport is even smaller than the Trivandrum airport, which I didn't think was possible. Madurai is about an hour's flight nearly due south from Bangalore.

We are supposed to depart for Madurai from Bangalore International airport at about 6:30am. But we don't. We sit and sit and then sit some more while they try to get the little turboprop aircraft started. They are not successful. Question: Is it unrealistic to think someone (anyone!) should actually check that kind of thing before they loaded all the passengers and luggage?. So we deplane, hop aboard a shuttle bus to traverse the 100 foot distance across the tarmac to the replacement plane, and climb on to aircraft #2. This one starts on the first try. We were away. . .

Sri Meenakshi Temple

Let's get the disappointing news out of the way first. The Meenakshi Temple, which sits smack dab in the center of town, is a huge temple complex. It's history dates back some 2000 years, although the majority of the construction took place in the late 16th century. The striking architectural elements are the 12 gopurams (entry gates) spread over the temple site. These gopurams are covered with elaborately carved and brightly painted carvings. It's certainly the primary reason I added Madurai to my list of destinations. The gopurams should have looked like this:

but what I see is this:

All of the gopurams (save one of the smallest ones visible in the above photo) are all covered up with what looks like thatched roofing.

"Am I in the right city?" "Is this the Meenakshi Temple?" "The towers don't look the way I thought they would. . ." "Just what is going on here?"

It turns out that all the of the gopurams are currently undergoing a restoration: a good cleaning and a new coat of paint. The thatched roof is scaffolding covered by, you guessed it, actual thatched roofing to keep the sun off the cleaners/painters as they work.

"Couldn't they have covered/restored a few at a time? They felt the need to cover up the entirety of the main tourist attraction? Really? At least leave one of the large gopurams uncovered for us tourists. I won't tell anybody that the carvings needed a fresh coat of paint. Honest!"

(say this with me)
Ooooooooommmmmm. . . .Ooooooooommmmmm. . . .Ooooooooommmmmm. . . .

Feel the disappointment being purged from your body. Let it go. Okay, let's just get on with exploring what we can see of the Meenakshi Temple by first wandering around the temple exterior.

Ghandi is big down here. He travelled to Madurai several times during his lifetime, and it was actually right here in Madurai that he took up his now-famous loincloth and bare feet style of dress, as he decided to set an example and 'dress as those least privileged dress'.

These next two photos are actually taken from within the temple complex, but show more of the exterior than interior.

Let's move inside the temple (remember to remove your shoes, please).

Small disclaimer: I don't get into the temple until sometime after 4pm. There isn't much natural light that finds it's way into the cavernous temples in this country to begin with, and at this point in the late afternoon even less. My little digital camera doesn't do dark spaces very well. Here are the handful of images that turn out at all.

A closeup of the carvings that are supposedly on all the gopurams. They would have been a sight to behold.

Just a few of the 1000 pillars (no, I did not count them. I will just trust that the museum people are telling me the truth.)

The next photo is obviously not of a column of any kind. I'm not sure exactly what kind of vehicle this was or who was transported in it. But I found it interesting.

A few examples of the bazaar stalls that populate the temple, just inside the entrances. Offerings to the deities, keepsakes and mementos, kitschy tourist stuff. I look but do not buy.

Temple Market

Across the street on the east side of the Meenakshi temple is temple market. Wall-to-wall cloth stalls and tailors' shops. Everyone wants to make me some new clothes, or at least sell me some material. The "white person hassle factor" is quite high here. Polite shakes of the head beget no, thank you's beget more emphatic No!'s finally beget fairly rude gestures. I am The Ugly American, but I do manage to get out of the market with my wallet of Rupees intact.

Tirumalai Nayak Palace

The Tirumalai Nayak palace was built around 1630 by the ruler whose name it bears. Most of the palace is long gone; the materials were recycled for use in later construction projects. What's left is an entrance gate, a large main hall/square, and a smaller dance hall. This palace is undergoing some kind of restoration effort as well. It's quite impressive even in it's current state.

The dance hall is quite an architectural space in and of itself.

The dance hall doubles as a little museum of antiquities unearthed around Madurai. A lot of the sculptures lining the walls are from the 10th - 13th century B.C.E.

St. Mary's Cathedral

Madurai is also the seat of the Catholic Church in this part of India, and so it boasts a very nice cathedral, dedicated to the Virgin Mary.

The Ghandi Museum

The Ghandi Memorial Museum sits in a tamukkam (exhibition pavillion) across the Vaigai river from Madurai-proper. The museum contains a very detailed account of India's stuggle for independence from the British from 1757 to 1947 and the instrumental role Ghandi played. The British do not come off very well! The final exhibit is the blood-stained dhoti (long loincloth) Ghandi was wearing when he was assassinated in Delhi in 1948.

Out & About

A typical street in downtown Madurai: clogged with motorbikes, auto-rickshaws, and people (because the sidewalks were already a crush of humanity). Cars just blare their horns and expect people to get out of the way. Pedestrians do not have the right of way in India. Another custom you learn quickly here (it's quite Darwinian). I suppose if people did have the right of way, cars would be waiting literally forever to get anywhere.

Out walking his elephant. He is kind enough to stop long enough to allow me this photo.

Looking north from a bridge over the Vaigai River (on the way to the Ghandi Museum).

Looking south from a different bridge over the Vaigai River (on the way back from the Ghandi Museum).

and the wild (?) horses that inhabit the green space of the riverbed.

Q: How do you get concrete up the the third floor of your construction project in Madurai?
A: The human concrete-bucket brigade.

The Locals

Wherever you are, there are always people who want to have their picture taken.

And Finally. . .

Author's Note - All Caught Up

2008-10-10T15:51:00.004+05:30

I'm finally, actually all caught up with the blog entries. We've had a few weeks of late-night and weekend craziness at the workplace which has kept me from my blogging duties (I know! I need to keep my priorities straight). I beg for your forgiveness and understanding. I will try not to let that happen again.

If you haven't visited my blog site for a week or so because there was never anything new, you might need to scroll down the page a bit to catch up. Here are the entries that have magically appeared during this past week:

Thursday, October 9: Festivals of Durga Puja and Dasara
Saturday, October 4: Before I Take My Leave - Update
Thursday, October 2: Ghandi Jayanti
Tuesday, September 30: Land's End
Tuesday, September 30: God's Own Country
Tuesday, September 23: Sai Paryavaran
Sunday, September 21: Mumbai

Festivals of Durga Puja and Dasara

2008-10-09T12:30:00.009+05:30

I did find my cinnamon-sugar toast to be quite auspicious this morning. . .now I know why.

I will be the first to admit to being a little confused over the specific festival/holiday being celebrated today. The vagaries confound me; the intricacies escape me. Festivals seem to be very regional and every region seems to celebrate slightly different things for different periods of time. All I know is that the village of Brookefields is celebrating both Durga Puja and Dasara today (and all this past week), mostly because the signs and banners tell me so. I only had a chance to snap a couple of non-horrible photos today: one in the afternoon on the way home from the store, and the other at about 10:00pm when a real racket arose outside the apartment. It was a little parade of a Durga statue going from here to there (wherever 'here' and 'there' were). My little camera does not do well at night, so there's not much to see. I know. . .a fairly poor effort on my part. We had the day off work and I was catching up on the rest of the blog entries and some much needed sleep!

from various Wikipedia pages:
The Dasara is a mark of victory of the great Hindu God Rama (Ramachandra, son of Dasharatha the King), for his victory over Ravana in the Ramayana. When Rama had returned to Auyodhya after a very long period, there was a celebration for the victory over Ravana. Also on this day, the Pandavas returned to their home. They had hidden their weapons in trees (which is called Aapta in Marathi). This tree then got famous as the golden tree and on this festival people exchange leaves of this tree as a celebration of happiness and victory over evil. People do pooja/puja of books, gadgets, vehicles and weapons on this day. It is one of the days where every moment is considered auspicious in the Hindu calendar. People usually buy new things and celebrate Dasara with great joy and happiness.

Durga Puja (worship of Durga)
The Great Goddess Durga is said to be exquisitely beautiful. Her form is blindingly bright, with three lotus-like eyes, ten powerful hands, lush hair with beautiful curls, a red-golden glow from her skin and a quarter moon on her forehead. She wears a shiny oceanic blue attire emitting fierce rays. Her ornaments were carved beautifully of gold, with ocean pearls and precious stones embedded in it. Each god also gave her their own most powerful weapons: Rudra's trident, Vishnu's discus, Indra's thunderbolt, Brahma's kamandalu, Kuber's Ratnahar, etc. Himalayas gifted her a fierce white and gold lion. On the end of the eighth and beginning of the ninth day of waxing moon, Chanda and Munda came to fight the goddess. She turned blue with anger and the goddess Chamunda leapt out of her third eye. Her form was the most powerful one with three red eyes, blood-filled tongue and dark skin; she finally killed the twin demons with her sword. Finally, on the tenth day of waxing moon, Durga killed Mahishasura with her trident. Hence, Durga Puja is also a festival of the power of Good (Durga) winning out over the evil.

Little brother in yellow. . .still interested in the goings-on. Older sister. . .not so much.

Before I Take My Leave - Update

2008-10-04T13:40:00.005+05:30

1) visit the Taj Mahal

2) gaze upon the Himalayas

3) ~~swim in the Indian Ocean~~

4) ~~stand on the southern-most tip of the Indian subcontinent.~~

5) experience the magic of Rajastan's medieval cities: Jaipur, Jodhpur, and Udaipur

Gandhi Jayanti

2008-10-02T10:18:00.005+05:30

"When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall — think of it, always."
- Mohandas Karamchand Ghandi

Today is Gandhi Jayanti, the national holiday celebrated in India to mark the occasion of the birthday of Mahatma Gandhi, the "Father of the Nation".

(the following is once again borrowed from Wikipedia)
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi (2 October 1869 – 30 January 1948) was a major political and spiritual leader of India and the Indian Independence Movement. He was the pioneer of Satyagraha (resistance to tyranny through mass civil disobedience, firmly founded upon ahimsa, or total non-violence) which led India to independence and inspired movements for civil rights and freedom across the world. He is commonly known around the world as Mahatma Gandhi ("Mahatma" meaning "Great Soul"). He is also referred to in India as Bapu, or "Father".

Read the rest of Ghandi's incredibly influential life story here.

God's Own Country

2008-09-30T10:57:00.021+05:30

Location: 8.3 degrees north latitude, 77.2 degrees east longitude
Elevation: sea level

"God's Own Country" seems to be the official slogan of Kerala. I suspect that it was coined by the Kerala tourism board just a few years back, but let's pretend that the natives have had this saying for hundreds if not thousands of years. It's much more magical that way. But no matter what or when the origin of the slogan, it is richly deserved in this little slice of tropical paradise. The Kerala coast may only be a 1.5 hour flight due south from Bangalore, but it definitely feels a world apart.

The Arrival

Here is our mode of transportation from Bangalore to Trivandrum, the Kerala state capital. I suspect that I have a few more turboprop airplane rides in my near future. But as long as it gets me from point A to point B, without incident mind you, I cannot and will not complain.

I am certain that the Tivandrum airport is the smallest airport into which I've ever flown. It has just a single runway, and the pilot actually did a u-turn on the runway to get back to the terminal (the word "terminal" is being used very loosely here).

The Leela

Our base of operations was the spectacular Leela Kempinski Kovalam Beach Hotel in Kovalam, a little seaside town at the very southern end of Kerala. Most of the hotel sits on a rocky peninsula overlooking the Arabian Sea, but they also have a small set of beach bungalows down at beach side, which is where our rooms were. The Leela was an excellent choice.

The weather could not have been better. Technically it is still monsoon season over here, albeit very close to the end, so there was a chance that it was going to rain for three days. It did not: nothing but warm sunshine and a light ocean breeze. A little humidity to be sure, but nothing to cause any discomfort.

The grounds of the Leela Hotel are lush, with lots and lots and lots of palm trees. I have a hunch that they are native to this region of the world. But that's just a hunch. I have no facts to back up that claim.

This is the view from my beachside bungalow.

You can't call yourself a decent hotel these days if you don't have a life-size chess board set amidst a manicured garden on a bluff overlooking the ocean. I guess the Leela Kempinski Kovalam Beach Hotel qualifies. . .

The hotel beach on the north side of the little peninsula. Those are the beach bungalows set amidst the palm trees. Mine is/was the one pretty much in the center of frame. No. . .not that one. . .the one just to the left of that one.

The beaches are public land here in India, so the Leela beach doubled as the local fishermen's headquarters as well, although they were kind enough (or maybe waved and whistled at by security enough) to leave part of the beach solely for us hotel guests.

Two feet in the Arabian Sea/Indian Ocean. My two feet!

The water was tropically warm. I will guess the water temperature was right around 75 degrees Farenheit (24 degrees Celsius). Probably a little cooler than Hawaii, but definitely a lot warmer than the Pacific Ocean back home in Hermosa Beach. I went swimming all three days, a couple of days more than once.

I love the ocean. It's one of the things I miss the most living in Bangalore.

You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead — your next stop. . .

With a tip of the hat to Rod Serling, those words (or at least the few I could actually remember) popped into my head the moment I saw this signpost on the hotel grounds. It was one of those "I'm seriously far from home" moments. But also a moment to be grateful that I have the chance to visit a part of the world such as this. I wish everyone could.

The end of another perfect day at the Leela Kempinski Kovalam Beach Hotel, Kerala, India.

Kovalam

We wandered around a small tourist village in a little cove just south of the Leela for a couple of hours on Monday. The village itself felt a little tired and neglected, possibly because the real high season was yet to begin.

If you ever find yourself in Kovalam, I heartily recommend the Coconut Grove restaurant, both for the fresh seafood. . .

and the view. . .

After lunch it was on to the Kovalam lighthouse.

144 steps and a 14-rung ladder later. . .

(with a quick stop about half way up to snap the quintessential lighthouse photo. . .)

The top of the lighthouse with the always-spectacular views. This photo looks north and shows the little coastal village from whence we came.

These two photos show the view to the south, with the second a closer-up view of the temples out on that little finger of rock.

Trivandrum

We had just an hour or so left before having to be at the aiport so we toured Trivandrum.

The Sri Padmanabhaswamy Temple is the heart of Trivandrum. The main entrance is the seven-tier gopuram (gateway tower) shown here. The temple is open only to Hindus, so this was the only view we could get. Granted we wouldn't have been able to take photos inside the temple anyway. However, according to my Lonely Planet India guidebook, the inner sanctum has a sculpture of the deity Padmanabha reclining ona sacred serpent and is made from 10,000 sacred stones (salagramam) that were reportedly transported from Nepal by elephant. It's definitely one of those "I wish we could have seen that" types of things.

A street corner temple.

and finally. . .just in case you ladies were wondering about the latest fall fashions in Kerala.

It was a very quick but very worthwhile three days, and that's without mention of our Sunday trip down to Kanyakumari, the very southern tip of the continent. But do not fret, I have it on good authority that our adventures at "Land's End" will be the subject of the next blog entry. Please stay tuned. . .

Land's End

2008-09-30T10:57:00.020+05:30

Location: 8.08 degrees north latitude, 77.54 degrees east longitude
Elevation: sea level.

Kanyakumari, also known as Cape Comorin, is the city at the very southern tip of the Indian subcontinent. Kanyakumari is spiritually important to Hindus and is dedicated to the goddess Devi Kanya. Kanyakumari is also the confluence point for the Arabian Sea, the Indian Ocean, and the Bay of Bengal.

There are two rocky islands that sit offshore to the south of Kanyakumari. The island on the left is dedicated to Swami Vivekanandra who came to the island to meditate in 1892. The Swami became one of India's most important religious crusaders. The island on the right and the huge statue that sits on it are dedicated to Tamil poet Thiruvalluvar. The below picture certainly doesn't do the scale of the memorial and statue justice, as hopefully you will see when we get closer.

The Thiruvalluvar statue is considered India's "Statue of Liberty" and was the work of more than 5000 sculptors. It rises to a height of 133 feet which honors the poet's 133 chapter work Thirukural. The statue was just completed in 2000, but was actually undergoing a surface refinishing or something when we were there so the island was actually closed to visitors. We had to be content with our views from afar.

Obviously, travel to the Vivekanandra Memorial island required a ferry boat ride. Now. . .I know what you're thinking, because I had the exact same thought: don't ferry boat rides in faraway places usually end in disaster and with significant loss of life?

Fortunately, the travel gods/goddesses smiled upon us this day and we arrived on the island (and got back to the mainland) without incident. Although some people had a real adventure trying to get off the boat at the island. The sea was, at times, really heaving the ferry to and fro. Lurches of 5 or 6 feet up, down, right, and left were commonplace for the 5 minutes or so it took to unlaod everyone. I am pleased to report that everyone disembarked without ending up in the sea and/or being crushed between the boat the the dock, which I actually thought had a better than even chance of happening.

Views of Kanyakumari from the island:

You may be able to just make out one of the huge wind farms that sit just offshore outside the city proper: those litle things on the right edge of the photo.

The Vivekananda Memorial

Inside the memorial (again no photos allowed) there is a footprint embedded in the rock that is said to be that of the goddess Devi Kanya, and is why Swami Vivekananda chose this place for his deep meditation.

Also on this rock next to the memorial, there is a smaller Dhyana mandapam or structure set aside for meditation.

Thiruvalluvar Statue

The following are mostly the only, and therefore also the best, views we had of the Thiruvalluvar memorial statue. These photos don't really do it's size justice: it was immense. Hopefully the combination of the previous photos of the Vivekanadra Memorial with the very first photo of the two islands together will give you some sense of scale.

The confluence point of the Arabian Sea, the Bay of Bengal, and the Indian Ocean. That point. . .right there!

Kumari Amman Temple

According to legend Devi Kanya single-handedly conquered demons and secured freedom for the world. This is the exterior of the temple, with the familiar mutli-tiered gopuram (entry gate) dedicated to her. This temple was: no photos, no shoes, and no shirts (at least for the men)! When in Rome (or in this case Kanyakumari). . .

The entrance gateway shown is really just the entrance. The actual temple complex behind it covers a huge amount of area, with a myriad of smaller temples and spaces carved out inside for worshiping and honoring Parvati, Shiva, and Hanuman (the Indian monkey god) just to name a few. I do wish there were photos that could go along with this inadequate description. . .

A whirlwind tour of another very small part of this country; this time Kanyakumari, but again well worth the effort.

I have stood at Land's End of the Indian subcontinent.

Sai Paryavaran

2008-09-23T23:08:00.024+05:30

Let us speak the name Sobha Rose no more. . .forever.

I moved into a new apartment yesterday.

Let's just say that there were some issues (insert involuntary shudder here) with that Other Place and leave it at that.

The new place is the Sai Paryavaran House, also known by the much less poetic name of Transtree Suites. The new place is located in Brookefields, which is a reasonably-sized-village (as far as sizes of villages go) in the vicinity of Whitefield and the International Technology Park Limited (I.T.P.L.), a.k.a. the workplace. It's about 15 minutes from I.T.P.L. during what passes for light traffic around here and probably 30 minutes (or greater) with more typical morning and evening traffic. As the crow flies, however, it can't be more than 5 miles away.

Let's take a brief tour of the new place. . .

The Exterior

The Sai Paryavaran House would appear to be relatively new construction. A brick exterior is not very common around these parts, so at least the building has a bit of character to it.

The Interior

Looking at the main living area from the front door wall. This unit is a two-bedroom, but it's set up so the two bedrooms can be rented out separately and the main living area becomes the common room. . .room. . .room. . .

Looking back at the front door. . .door. . .door. . .

High ceilings, but not a whole lot of furniture. . .furniture. . .furniture. . .
Did I mention the fact that it echoes in here. . .here. . .here?

Let's take a glimpse into the kitchen:

Small but functional. The red gas tank looking object hiding in the corner in the above picture is, in fact, a liquid propane tank. It fuels the countertop/portable 3-burner cook top.

Looking at the main kitchen area. I'm standing next to a small refrigerator that's on the opposite wall. They actually had the refrigerator located out in the living area when I first moved in because there was no extra wall outlet in which to plug it in. The microwave was using the one and only outlet. They managed to install an extra one for me. Now, you may be wondering where all the cabinets are. Me? I don't ask those kinds of questions any more.

The standard, common cold-water-only kitchen faucet. Again, I've given up asking those kinds of questions. I'm not sure the answer would make me feel better or worse. . .but I do think maybe someone needs to come glue down the sink again.

Bedroom #1: the one being used.

Ignore those dirty socks on the floor. No washer and dryer in this unit. The building has laundry pick-up services. It's generally a second-day return (i.e. laundry is picked up Monday morning before 10a.m., it's ready Tuesday night). Generally. Not always. A little bit of thought and planning needs to be involved. And some crossing of fingers never hurts either.

Bedroom #2: a somewhat smaller version of the first.

Each bedroom has it's own in-suite bathroom. Again, the bedrooms are often rented out to separate individuals. Each bathroom comes with a large plastic bucket and smaller plastic bucket under the sink. Again. . .not sure I want to know the whole story behind the buckets.

What's with the extra sink in the living area? Why did I put the toaster out here instead of in the kitchen? We'll consider those unasked (and hence unanswered) questions #6 and #7.

All the bathrooms share a common, modern design. Each one has a separate, small hot water tank called a geyser (pronounced "geezer"). These tanks would appear to be even smaller here than at the other place, as I find showering in one bathroom and shaving in another is a necessity in the mornings. Of course, I'm considering hot water to be a necessity for those two activities.

All in all - a definite upgrade to the living arrangements.

The Neighborhood

These are photos of the village of Brookefields and all within a few blocks of the apartment.

M.K. Retail - the neighborhood grocery store, and a halfway decent one compared to most of the other food stores in the general Indian subcontinent area. (The Hermosa Beach Von's may not be much relative to some other supermarkets in the states, but I am really really looking forward to walking back in there upon my return! I will never complain about it again.) M.K. Retail is about a 5 minute walk away. They had Metallica playing on the store audio system today. A little random. A little bizarre. But certainly not unwelcome.

The neighborhood hardware store:

The neighborhood pharmacy (hopefully you can make out the "chemists" & "druggists" signs painted on the storefront):

The neighborhood 7-11:

The neighborhood bakery (Ragam Bakery & Sweets):

The neighborhood department store:
The funny-looking vehicle in the above photo is the ubiquitous auto-rickshaw. It's the Bangalore version of the taxi. 3 wheels. Lawnmower motor. Cost-to-destination is mostly just agreed to beforehand (a little haggling is usually required).

The other neighborhood 7-11 on the corner:

The neighborhood has everything! What more could one want!

So that's the Sai Paryavaran House and Brookefields: home for the next couple of months.

Mumbai

2008-09-21T21:55:00.024+05:30

Location: 18.96 degrees north latitude, 72.82 degrees east longitude
Elevation: 26 feet

Mumbai (formally known as Bombay) is the most populous city in India (13 million people!), the capital city of the state of Maharashta, and the commercial and entertainment capital of India. Mumbai sits right on the Indian Ocean/Arabian Sea. Mumbai is about an hour-and-a-half flight north north-west from Bangalore.

Travelled up to Mumbai this weekend, extensibly to do some recruiting. The majority of Indian visual effects and animation companies are located up here (the home of Bollywood), so we thought a day of in-person interviews would be of benefit to us, and certainly preferable to the vagaries of telephone interviews of the past weeks.

Saturday was spent either travelling and then in a hotel business center room interviewing people.
(it was a 7am flight and a one hour trip to the airport and they want you there one hour early. I'll leave figuring out what time my alarm went off this morning as an exercise for the reader. Hint: it was early!)

The interrogation room. . .I mean interview room at the Grand Hyatt - Santa Cruz Station Hotel. . .

Please try to not be too jealous while I drop some names on you:
While at the airport Saturday morning we saw Rahul Dravid, very popular player and former Captain of the Indian national cricket team and Bangalore native. While we were at the Grand Hyatt - Santa Cruz Station hotel we saw Meher Jesia, former supermodel; Arjun Ramphal, current Bollywood Star (his most recent movie "Rock On" is a huge box office success over here) and husband of the aforementioned Meher Jesia; Rohit Bal, famous Indian fashion designer; and Harsha Bogle, a very famous Indian cricket analyst and commentator.

Evidently this was the place to see and be seen this weekend.

After one final interview on Sunday morning, I had just enough time for a whirlwind tour of the city before my return flight. The hotel arranged a driver for me. When he asked me what I wanted to see I said "Show me as much as you can".

Here's where he took me.

Stop 1. The Hanging Gardens

The hanging gardens sit on top of a huge water tank atop Malabar Hill, an exclusive neighborhood of the Mumbai rich and famous (financiers, Bollywood movie stars, etc.). It comes across as just a nice little neigborhood park. Looked like people use it for the daily/weekly strolls.

Some attempt at topiary sculpting. A lot of the sculpted trees/bushes had little placards next to them telling you what they were, or what they were supposed to be. Not a real sign of success. The elephant and giraffe (?) were two of the more successful ones.

Not-quite-all-the-way-stopped stop 2: Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus

Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus is the Mumbai train station, and is also known by the old British name of Victoria Terminus. It is supposedly the busiest train station in all of Asia. I took the first picture from the slow-moving car, as there was nowhere to easily pull over and park for a few minutes.

I grabbed this photo off the web, to give you a better idea about how big this thing is and it's ornate design. I definitely wished I had more time to explore this building.

Stop 3. Gateway of India

Next stop was the Gateway of India, built in 1911 to commemorate the royal visit of King George V. Sorry about all the scaffolding and plastic sheeting. I asked them to be taken down so I could snap a couple of nicer photos, but my request was denied.

Across the street from the Gateway of India arch is the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, a very ornate blend of Islamic and Renaissance stylings. It was built in 1903 by a wealthy Indian industrialist after he was refused entry to one of the other neighboring European hotels because he was an Indian native. I think it's safe to say that he showed them.

Cliff diving, city style!

Stop 4: St. Thomas Cathedral

St. Thomas Cathedral is the oldest English building in Mumbai. Construction began in 1672. It's style is a blend of Byzantine and British colonial. The white-washed interior certainly gives it a very airy feel. Lots of memorials, grave stones, and commemorative plaques inside.

Stop 5: Cross Maidan

Cross Maidan is a little green belt that runs through part of the city. It's just down the street from St. Thomas Cathedral, so I spent a few minutes wondering around. Ornate fountains and memorials dot the carefully landscaped areas.

This first fountain is the Flora Fountain (1869), named after the Roman goddess of abundance.

One of the many differences between Bangalore and Mumbai is the latter actually has some interesting architecture. All of these buildings are within a block or two radius of Cross Maidan and Veer Nariman Road.

Stop 6: Mahalaxi Temple

Mahalaxi Temple is dedicated to the goddess of wealth (of the same name). Once again, no photography is permitted inside the temple. So we're left with a few images of the bazaar that unerringly springs up around each and every temple.

No-time-for stop 7: Haji Ali Mosque

We ran out of time. I was hoping to make the short walk out to the Haji Ali Mosque, but I had to setle for a short view from the car. The mosque was buitl in the 19th century as the tomb of Muslim saint Haji. As the legend goes, Haji died while on a pilgrimage to Mecca and his casket mysteriously floated back to this very spot. The mosque is built on a little rock island out in the bay; a small causeway leads out there from the mainland that is actually covered by water at high tide.

No good photos, so I was left to grab one off the web. This specific picture can't be very recent, as the mosque I saw was definitely a little worse-for-wear, but very interesting nonetheless.

On the way to the airport: the Mumbai skyline on a very warm, humid afternoon. By the way. . .that's the Arabian Sea in the picture. The Arabian Sea! That's a part of the larger Indian Ocean. The Indian Ocean!

There are a few beaches in Mumbai, but they are not very attractive. In fact, think of the exact opposite of "attractive" and that best descibes the beaches in and around the city. I did not put my feet in the water. One look and you would not have either. I hope and suspect that I will have another chance to take the plunge in the not-too-distant future. . .

Postscript: Yep, that's really two oxen pulling a bright silver mini-temple-looking-something-or-other down the middle of the street in the middle of the day. And it probably only gets a second look from us foreigners. . .

I scream. . .you scream. . .

2008-09-14T20:02:00.009+05:30

Western civilization is slowly encroaching upon the Indian subcontinent. . .and thank goodness!

(Please begin humming either "Hallelujah" or the theme from "2001: A Space Odyssey", or just know that I'm humming one of those two, if not both, for you right now)

Mmmmm. . .just plain chocolate ice cream. . .delicious!

(hopefully a little diversion for anyone out there who needs one)

We All Scream for Ice Cream

8:00pm: Who knew what joy a simple bowl of ice cream could bring? But I suppose life's simpler pleasures can often have the greatest impact on our lives. In fact, I sit here fighting the urge to eat the rest of the ice cream right here and now. Simple pleasures do not seem to be as abundant here in India.

8:21pm: It's the oddest thing. I swear I hear the ice cream carton bumping against the inside of the freezer door. It has to be my imagination. I get up, open the freezer, and check the ice cream carton. OK, it's right where I put it. . .but was the label facing out when I put it away? And why is the hair on the back of my neck standing up? I think this place is finally getting to me.

8:27pm: There it is again. It's like a bump. . .bump. . .thud, bump. . .bump. . .thud. I choose to ignore what I'm sure is my overactive imagination.

8:41pm: What was that?! I mute the TV. Silence. I think I'll listen for a few minutes before un-muting the TV.

8:43pm: There! From somewhere in the kitchen. Not the same noise as a little while ago. It's like a small chocolate-y whisper. I can't make out any words. This is crazy. I get up and turn some more lights on. I also turn the TV sound up a bit.

8:57pm: Power failure! I'm plunged into darkness. OK, no need to panic. This actually happens all the time. The Indian electricity supply is incredibly unreliable. We're lucky to get though any day without a couple of power outages. The power usually comes back on in a minute or two. I can survive a couple of minutes in the dark without freaking out, even if the strange whispers emanating from the freezer seem to have grown a bit louder. There seems to be a little more structure to them as well, but they still remain undecipherable.

9:02pm: The power clunks back on: just a quick outage this time. But we must be running on the building's generator power, as I don't actually hear the refrigerator-freezer running (the refrigerator runs solely off the main electrical supply around here). All I can hear are the continued (imagined?) freezer noises, and my heart pounding in my chest. The freezer noises are still not much more than whispers, but suddenly become something recognizable, something familiar. . .it's the audio track from The Wizard of Oz. . .specifically the scene in which the Wicked Witch of the West meets her demise! I cannot bring myself to type out the words I'm hearing. . .

This is crazy. There has to be a perfectly rational and logical explanation for all of this. This isn't some Stephen King novel. This kind of thing just doesn't happen in real life.

Then it hits me: How long before ice cream in a non-functioning freezer starts to melt? Melted and re-frozen ice cream is never as good. Never! I would have to eat It rather than see It go to waste. Right? But It won't start to melt for at least 30 minutes, maybe longer. But I will have to eat It. The thought lingers in my head. I cannot will it away. Something strange is happening here. I suddenly feel like I'm being tested, and not the good kind of test. This is something different. Bad different.

All I know is I cannot give in. I will not give in. The main power will come back on in a minute or two. It always does. Always. And when it does those sounds coming from the freezer will stop. They will. I know They will. They have to. They just have to.

9:05pm: The refrigerator-freezer clunks back to life. The main power is back on. It knows that I know It is safe again. It's cries do cease. For now at least. An air of expectation (possibly dread) fills the room. I sit and I wait.

9:21pm: Another power outage. It's call is stronger now. There's a pleading quality that is almost unbearable. I must resist.

9:27pm: Power back on. Refrigerator-freezer back on. My nerves are nearly shot. This unreliable Indian electricity supply may prove to be the end of me yet.

11:43pm: It's been more than two hours since my last entry. There's been four more power outages, each one longer than the last. The last one was 28 minutes. The whispers have gradually become screams. I can't take much more of this. I know now It is causing these power outages. I know It is learning to keep the power off for longer and longer periods of time. I know what It is trying to get me to do. Still I resist. But I know the next outage (and there will be a next one, of that I'm certain) will surely bring with it The Time of Melting. I will have no other choice but to succumb to It's wishes, as my strength is nearly gone, and with it my resolve. I do not want to do what ultimately I know I will have to do. I just need the screams to stop. Please judge me for the person I have been, and not the person I am about to become.

Maybe it would help to try to build up my strength again; maybe by eating some sort of creamy chocolate-y treat. . .

The Nandi Hills

2008-09-06T23:53:00.013+05:30

Nandidurg Hill, more commonly referred to as the Nandi Hills, is about 60km (~37 miles) north of Bangalore. They are these massive granite mounds that stick up out of the ground. The top of the main hill is 1500 feet above the surrounding terrain (4500 ft total elevation) which means that the views from the top are absolutely spectacular. The Nandi Hills is the source of the Penner, Ponnaiyar, and Palar rivers. Nandi Hills gets its name from an ancient Nandi temple situated on this hill. This temple has a thousand year old sculpture of Nandi (the bull upon which Shiva rides). An ancient lord Shiva and Parvati temple also adorns this hill. This used to be the summer retreat of Tipu Sultan.

Sultan Fateh Ali Tipu (November 20, 1750, Devanahalli – May 4, 1799, Srirangapattana), also known as the Tiger of Mysore, was the ruler of the Indian Kingdom of Mysore from 1782 (the time of his father's death) until his own demise in 1799. He was the first son of Haidar Ali by his second wife, Fatima or Fakhr-un-nissa. Tipu Sultan died defending the capital city of Srirangapattana against the British.

Views of the surrounding countryside. It was late afternoon by the time we got here after visiting the Banyan tree, so I hope these photos aren't too dark.

The temple with the millenium-old Nandi sculpture.

The Shiva and Parvati temple.

The Banyan Tree

2008-09-06T23:52:00.005+05:30

A couple of us braved the roads to visit the oldest/largest Banyan tree in southern India (or so they tell me) this afternoon. The Banyan tree is on the western outskirts of Bangalore. It's a pretty incredible sight.

Older banyan trees are characterized by their aerial prop roots which grow downward from branches into thick woody trunks which with age can become indistinguishable from the main trunk. Old trees can spread out laterally using these prop roots to cover a fairly wide area. This one certainly shows these characteristics in abundance: it's hard to tell what/where the original main trunk is. I'm guessing that by themselves the trunk roots just can't slurp enough water to sustain the tree growth so the Banyan has developed a way to literally plant more roots into the soil.

All these images are of the Banyan. Just one tree. The one shot that was not possible to get was an establishing, wide, overview shot. The surrounding land was just too flat. The amount of land coverage was staggering.

A close-up view of one of the aerial prop roots that has planted itself into the ground.

And finally: the obligatory monkey shot.

Ganesha Chaturthi

2008-09-03T23:11:00.027+05:30

Ganapathi Bappa Morya, Purchya Varshi Laukar ya

Lord Ganesha, the elephant-headed son of Shiva and Parvati, is widely worshipped as the supreme god of wisdom, prosperity and good fortune. Ganesha Chaturthi (Ganesha Festival) is the day in which the Lord Ganesha is believed to bestow his presence on earth for all his devotees.

The legend (borrowed from Wikipedia):
Lord Shiva (the Hindu God of resolution) was away at a war. His wife Pavarti wanted to bathe but had no one to guard the door to her house. She conceived of the idea of creating a son who could guard the door for her. Parvati created Ganesha out of the sandalwood paste that she used for her bath and breathed life into the figure. She then set him to stand guard at her door and instructed him not to let anyone enter.

When Lord Shiva returned from the battle Ganesha did not know him and stopped Shiva from entering Parvati's chamber. Shiva, enraged by Ganesh’s impudence, drew his sword and cut off Ganesha's head. Pavarti emerged to find Ganesha decapitated and flew into a rage. She took on the form of the Goddess Kali and threatened destruction to the three worlds of Heaven, Earth, and the subterranean earth.

Lord Shiva, in an attempt to pacify Parvati, sent out his ganas (minions) to bring back the head of the first living being whose head faced the north (the cardinal direction associated with wisdom). This first living thing happened to be an elephant. Shiva placed the elephant head on the trunk of Parvati's son and breathed life into him. Parvati was overjoyed and embraced her son, the elephant-headed boy whom Shiva named Ganesha, the Lord of his ganas.

Specifics vary by region, but the Ganesha festival is celebrated for 1, 3, 5, 7, or 10 days. These specific durations seem to be determined by the lunar cycle and are left to personal choice for the celebrants. To this westerner the festival seems to be part Christmas and part Mardi Gras, with maybe just a bit of Halloween thrown in.

Our driver took us to one of the workshops at which the Ganesha idol statues are created by local artisans. All the statues are mad from the same raw materials (straw, burlap, clay, paint) and then sculpted and painted by hand.

The first part of the festival is choosing the Ganesha statue. I will liken this to picking out a Christmas tree (and hope the analogy is not blasphemous in any way). There are "Ganesha ido statue" lots all over the city. People wander from lot to lot looking for just the right one. There is every size and shape imaginable. The Ganeshas have different outfits, are painted different (usually wildly vibrant) colors, and are often posed with either his mother and/or his father, each of which can have their own variations. Here are but a few examples:

The little blonde girl in the following photo is Erik's & Helen's (our production manager & wife) daughter Annika. Her little brother August is also very blonde; they always attract a great deal of attention from the locals. . .

The second part of the festival is the display the Ganesha idol. It would seem that small neighborhoods of people will pool their money to buy a statue that they then display at the end of their block or alley. The statues remain covered until the appropriate hour on the first day of the festival. Once the statues are uncovered, people wander from neighborhood to neighborhood looking at all the different idols. Each neighborhood also decorates their street with lights, plays Festival music from loudspeakers, and cooks a few delicacies that get passed out to all the visitors (kind of like Halloween? maybe more like looking at the Christmas windows in the downtown department stores if the department stores passed out food).

The festival is a chance to wear one's finest clothes. . .

The final step, once the chosen celebration/viewing period is done, is to immerse the statue in water. This returns the divinity of Lord Ganesha (as represented by the idol) back to the earth, and represents the cycle of creation and dissolution in Nature. The immersion is done at the local lakes. These venues become very large street parties (a la Mardi Gras) as people parade their statues down the street on their way to the immersion points: lots of music, lots of singing and carrying on, lots of car horns. It's quite a sight and sound. The larger idols are loaded onto cranes and then swung out and into the lakes.

Before I take My Leave

2008-09-01T13:41:00.015+05:30

Please permit me to paraphrase Helen Keller:
Life is a great adventure. . .or it's nothing at all. . .

I stepped onto the Indian subcontinent with a bit of an open-ended business arrangement: I'm expecting to be here at least until the end of October and possibly as late as the middle of December. I'm hoping to make the most of the potentially short tourism time, for I suspect I may not be back this way again.

Here are the things I feel I should make every effort to do while I'm here: 1) visit the Taj Mahal, 2) gaze upon the Himalayas, 3) swim in the Indian Ocean, and 4) stand on the southern-most tip of the Indian subcontinent.

I also have some friends who have recently travelled this part of the world and have encouraged me to visit the magical state of Rajasthan: specifically the cities of Udaipur, Jodhpur, and Jaipur.

I hope future blog entries will confirm all (or at least most) of this wish list fulfilled.

The Bangalore Climate

2008-08-30T15:00:00.008+05:30

Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I do not like heat. I do not like humidity.

I fear the Indian subcontinent has those in abundance. . .

My first thought after hearing "We'd like you to help get our new studio in Bangalore up and running" was "I'm not going to India! It's hot in India! and probably really humid!". My first action was to type Bangalore, India into Google's map search box. What I found did not in any way, shape, or form comfort me. In fact it was just the opposite: Bangalore was way way down in the southern part of the country, and right smack dab in the middle. That had to mean "hot & humid", didn't it?. Plus, Bangalore was nowhere near the coast, where one might expect at the very least a cool breeze from time to time.

My second thought was "There's now way I'm going to Bangalore." My second action was to type Bangalore, India into Wikipedia's search box. After skipping down to the Climate section, one of the first things I read was Bangalore has a salubrious climate.

My third thought was "What the heck does salubrious mean?". My third action was to type salubrious into Dictionary.com's search box.

sa·lu·bri·ous /səˈlubriəs/
–adjective
favorable to or promoting health; healthful: salubrious air.
[Origin: 1540–50; <>

My fourth and fifth thoughts were "Hmmm. . .they wouldn't really consider heat and humidity as promoting health, would they?" and "What are the chances that these Wikipedians are sadists?". My fourth action was to return to Wikipedia and read more about Bangalore and it's climate.

It turns out that Bangalore sits at an altitude of about 3000 feet, which gives the steamy air plenty of time to dry out and cool off as it makes it's way up from sea level. The hottest part of the year in Bangalore is in and around April, where temperatures can reach upwards of 100 degrees. However, I would only be here from August through to the end of the year, during which temperatures looked like they would be much more moderate. Granted August through September and into October is the so-called monsoon season, but I figured monsoon rains were far preferable to stifling heat.

I decided that the climate should not be much of a factor in deciding whether or not to come to Bangalore, India. I hoped that what I was reading was the truth.

Drumroll please. . .

I've been here for a month. I have not yet been uncomfortable.

and there was much rejoicing. . .

Temperatures have probably ranged from the mid-70's to the mid-80's. We are definitely in the middle of monsoon season, however. We have cloudy skies most days (to which my photographs on previous blog entries will attest), some days the clouds and sky are very dark all day long. We haven't seen much of the sun, although we've had probably more sunshine this past week than the previous three weeks combined. Some days are definitely a bit more humid than others, but the more humid days are also the days with the most cloud cover, which tends to keep the daytime temperature down, and hence the effect of the humidity as well. Temperatures do not dip much at night, if at all. I doubt it rarely gets below 70 degrees around here. I leave a couple of the ceiling fans on all the time (assuming we have power).

The monsoon rains come a few days per week, usually after 5pm. Sometimes it's a hard rain, sometimes it's a torrential rain. Sometimes it rains for a few minutes, sometimes it rains for a couple of hours straight. Sometimes the rain brings strong winds with it. The past few days the rain has also brought thunder and lightning along for the ride. We had a couple of lightning strikes today that felt like they were literally right outside: the thunderclap followed the lightning flash immediately and proceeded to shake the entire building. It's really quite impressive at times.

The monsoon rains along the coast and up north are said to be relentless at times: it can and does rain for days on end. Add in the 90% humidity in these less fortunate parts of the country and I will take the Bangalore climate any day and be very grateful.

So the climate is mostly as advertised. I carry an umbrella in my bag. I brought shoes suitable for rain and the ensuing mud. The rains will last another four to six weeks but should then begin to taper off. The heat and rain in the north and along the coast should also abate come October, which means it will be time to stretch the tourist wings a bit further and wider.

A final possibly interesting note:
Sunrise and sunset in Bangalore is currently about 6:10am and 6:30pm, respectively. Bangalore sits at just 12 degrees north latitude: nearly on the equator. The sunrise and sunset times do not vary much throughout the year. Sunrise on June 21st is 5:55am; sunrise on December 21st is 6:37am; sunset on June 21st is 6:48pm; sunset on December 21st is 6:00pm.

Being this close to the equator also means that there is very little twilight; complete and utter darkness is only 35 or 40 minutes away on either side of sunrise or sunset.

Mysore (concluded)

2008-08-23T12:03:00.006+05:30

Part 4. The Journey Home

I dare not sleep, as I intend to meet Death with eyes wide open. . .

Travelling along the roads outside Bangalore is quite an experience. The scenery can be serene and scenic, with intriguing rock formations and sugar cane fields that seem to stretch forever. The scenery can also be fairly depressing, as roadsides are often used as garbage dumps in the more populated areas. But no matter what one finds off the roads, driving these roads is always exciting. . .the adrenaline-pumping, white-knuckle kind of exciting.

If there exist any type of driving laws here I dare say that I have no idea what they might be. Travelling these roads seems to be Darwinian in the extreme. In the absence of formal driving laws, one might at least expect a set of informal ones: slower vehicles stay to the left (they drive on the left/British hand side of the roads over here), pass on the right, try to stay within one's own lane lines (they were put there for a reason, right?), etc. My expectations seem to be too high.

In the absence of formal and informal driving laws, one might at the very very least expect common sense to rear it's head at some point. It does not (or maybe it's a common sense that is indigenous to only this part of the world and thus one with which I am not familiar).

It was after 8pm before we started back to Bangalore: already dark. Driving on the roads here at night is quite an experience. There is all manner of vehicular traffic that attempts to share the road: bicycles, scooters, motorcycles, tractors, cars, vans, large trucks. Then there's the pedestrian traffic. They generally stay on the left shoulder. Generally. Tail lights are not common place, nor are brake lights or flashlights. There are no street lights. The painted lane line would lead one to believe this is a two lane road, but this road divider lane seems to be largely, if not entirely, ignored. Every vehicle is travelling at a different rate of speed, on a different part of the road. The driving pattern seems to consist of a somewhat random ordering of brake, horn, swerve left, step on the gas, swerve right.

There are no posted speed limits, fortunately most of the cars seem to be a little underpowered so speeds tend to top out at about 100 kph (60 mph). There are, however, a couple of speed regulation devices employed: the speed bump and the chicane. Speed bumps appear out of the night about every couple of kilometers. These reduce most vehicles to basically a full stop while the vehicles' shocks try to negotiate the single or sometimes triple bumps in the road. Most are marked; however, our driver is surprised a couple of times and by association we are too. Our seat belts save the roof from a head-sized dent or two. Chicanes appear along the more populated portions of the road, and appear as metal barriers staggered between the two lanes so one is forced to slow and navigate a figure s-shape. Problems arise when what was three-abreast traffic needs to be reduced to single file traffic to safely negotiate these chicanes. A working horn and the repeated application of said horn is most clearly the one indispensable piece of automobile safety equipment.

And then the piece de resistance arrives in the form of the monsoon rains, during which visibility is reduced to at most a few feet. The whole experience is intensified many fold. The real has become the surreal. Mere words are not adequate here. I can only refer you back to the top of this blog entry and the (seemingly over-dramatic) thought that popped into my mind around this point of the drive.

Luckily the rains this evening are relatively short in duration, if not in volume. We clip a scooter at a red light intersection on the outskirts of Bangalore, but no real damage is done. Our driver and it's driver exchange a few select words in Hindi; a translator is unnecessary. Yet for all the drama, we do survive and arrive back in Bangalore unscathed (at least physically).

But this must be said: for all the potential for absolute disaster out on the roads, there would seem to be very few serious accidents; a credit to the Indian drivers, the relatively subdued speeds, and to whichever Hindu god or goddess watches over travellers. I wonder what driving school is like over here, or if such a thing exists at all. Maybe the roads are the result of just throwing people into the proverbial deep end of the pool.

And with this the Mysore trip comes to an end. Although it's after midnight the adrenaline still pumping through my body makes sleep impossible for a couple more hours.

A chance to finally close my eyes, however.

I try hard not to think about the hornets' nest out on the balcony which has been steadily gaining in size the past couple of days. . .

Mysore (continued)

2008-08-21T21:12:00.009+05:30

Part 3. The Mysore Palace

The Mysore Palace was the seat of the Mysore maharajahs. The original palace burned down in 1897 and the present one, designed by English architect Henry Irwin, was completed in 1912. It's quite a sight to behold. "Spared no expense" is the phrase that comes to mind. The exterior is much more stately and well designed than the interior, which tends toward the outright gaudy, which may be why they do not allow photographs to be taken inside (they don't allow shoes inside either. I like wearing shoes). OK, they probably have a real reason but they didn't share it with us. There is some incredible stained glass and some incredibly intricately carved wooden doors, but there are also lots of mirrors and lots and lots of colors that probably shouldn't be used together in the same room.

A progression of three photos of the front exterior. These photos were probably taken every 30 minutes starting a little after 6pm local time (sunset is at about 6:40pm in this part of the world right now and being this close to the equator it gets dark really quickly after the sun goes down).

And then every Sunday sometime after sunset they turn on the exterior lights for about an hour. It's a truly spectacular sight. A little Disneyland-ish maybe, but worth the trip in and of itself.

There's a small 7- or 8-piece band that plays music while the lights are on. The first piece of music they played was The Colonel Bogey March, better known as the theme from the film "The Bridge on the River Kwai". With this view and with this music it's hard not to sense the lasting vestiges and hear the lasting whispers of the old British empire.

A couple more photos. The first looking back at the main entrance gate from the courtyard, and then a view from outside the gate looking toward the palace.

And a couple of postcard images I grabbed off the web:

to be continued. . .