Mysore India Part II

When every day brings an onslaught of new experiences each day passed is like a lifetime. Mysore was a day of new experiences. Five days of new experiences have passed since then. Publish fast and publish often to capture the excitement of the moment. An experience really is the sum of the observer and the environment.

Mysore is a reminder of a different era. The wealth of the nobility at the time was astounding. From precious treasures to "summer homes" the life was clearly extraordinary. Many of the marvels are damaged or destroyed by subsequent invasions and yet glimpses of grandeur remain. Artifacts that remain face new threats of disrepair, vandalism, and over use.

Many attractions require removal of shoes. This gets old quickly to this wayward westerner. It ages even faster with hustlers charging to watch shoes. What damage does a shoe do? One shoe seems harmless. Then consider the thousands or millions of people that flow through on a daily basis. I thought it was impressive the first time I saw subtly worn stone and marble steps in New York and Washington, DC. I've seen similar steps in India truly worn out by the sheer volume of bare feet and accompanying sand. Humans are the new sands of time and vandalism is the new raging fire.

My trip/impression of Mysore was an outer fort aka summer home and then the Mysore palace. This included the spot of Tipu Sultan's death. In true modern fashion we had longer stops at shopping destinations than at political or religious attractions.






The summer home and fort were impressive even long past there time.









I this specific instance I found the temple architecture quite interesting.






And ironically I've spent significant time in Christian churches in India. The amount of diversity and acceptance here is really something to behold.






We took a quick stroll through a Zoo. I was hopeful of seeing tigers but found humans wondering around inside the tiger pit.






They did have a collection of snakes including nice Anaconda and Boa Constrictor specimens. There were several King Cobras but all appeared rather small even for zoo specimens.



Mysore Palace itself is reminiscent of posh royalty seen around the world.















After the palace the tour headed up Chamundi Hill for a nice overlook of Mysore.


I elected to skip Chamundi temple, keep my shoes on, and enjoy some quiet time on the bus. This proved a great opportunity to take in the subculture of drivers waiting in surrounding parking lots. The cows were note worthy making their rounds chewing flowers and vines off the various tour busses.

We passed this palace in the distance. Apparently its the fourth largest palace in India and has been converted to the only five star hotel in Mysore. Prices are outrageous even by American standards so primary guests are movie stars and business tycoons



Touring wrapped up at a Botanical garden light show built around a rather infamous dam. The dam controls water released to the next downstream state. Every year the downstream state has to engage the Supreme Court to get water released from the dam to supply the downstream state. People describing it attributed the malady to the prevalent third wold status. It reminds me of water fights happening in the US in California and Georgia/Florida.









Lunch and dinner were proved interesting negotiations. I was acutely concerned about getting sick after close brushes with less sterilized sources. In the end everything was okay. I was delighted to have safe breakfast feast at the hotel the next morning.

In hindsight what strikes me most about the day is the dilapidation of these "treasures". Several sites were registered historical sites. Even with that status they are very poorly tended.

Oh, and the bribery. Paying to hold shoes is one things. I was approached innumerable times by security guards offering private tours. While I feared repercussions for refusing the offers those consequences never arose.

One consequence was ever present - foreigners had to purchase separate and significantly more expensive tickets for admittance. In the end this was a perk as the tellers and lines dedicated for foreigners were always idle bypassing lines and providing immediate access. I think that was well worth the 5x-7x markup that still came in around $4USD.

Some expenses are covered by corporate perks and credit card but I'm still comfortably touring on around $200 USD cash converted to Rupee. I feel like $200 USD would cover less than one day of sight seeing in the US.

And that brings up cash exchanges and change - another interesting difference. My general impression is that exact change is optional. For breakfast lunch and dinner change was always off by 2-20 Rupee. The tour guide kept 40 Rupee in change and fished for more tip. At two locations I tried to give tip for exceptional service and it was refused.

For my western friends get ready to pay for toilets. It's frequently a trivial amount 2-5 Rupee but it is required. Payment also does not reflect the quality of facilities. Many times it was much more appealing to water a tree.

I did enjoy great conversation with a doctor on the tourbus ride back to Bangalore. People are friendly as ever and willing to share so long as I remain open and willing to listen.

Mysore India Part I

Thrill of adventure prevailed over allure of rest and I found myself on a Sunday bus to Mysore. The ~140km trip would take an hour in most US locations. In India this is three plus hour endeavor. Again, reset clocks to India time.

The slower pace is welcoming. At times it is reminiscent of my upbringings in the deep south of the United States. The values of time, materials, and personal interaction are, shall we say, different. At breakfast I was at first shocked by a pretty native menu; no more continental cushion.




Balancing the menu, communications, and time constraints of a tour bus schedule was a good test of new skills. I'm happy to report a positive breakfast experience with an egg dosa and coffee within the time allotted and subsequent negotiation of celebratory Coke.

Getting a Coke sounds simple. I haven't found the equivalent of "pop" yet so begin with brand discussions. Then clarify it must be a bottle and not fountain in keeping with dietary recommendations. Then get the bottle brought to the table unopened rather than pre-opened and poured. Then get a straw to avoid direct contact with the mouth of the bottle. Then limit water exposure via wet dishes and duplicate dishes. Staff are fastidious in ferrying away dishes and push fresh "clean" dishes at every opportunity. This sounds nice if somewhat wasteful. Then consider, as a foreign traveler, that each dish comes out still dripping with water. Those "harmless" drops of water are a gateway to days of digestive discomfort. Ever paranoid I limited my contact to as few dishes as possible and preferred dishes that came with hot food aiming for as much sterilization as possible. I reused one spoon, one plate, and one glass for the whole meal much the chagrin of my hosts.

The physiological reality is that local water would lead to medical illness. How do you tell someone their "clean" water makes you sick? How do you do that without offending? How do you do that across a language barrier? Educated professionals comprehend the dangers of water born illness. Concurrently it is offensive at a basic human level to refuse a drink. That same water is dripping from dishes. Ever tried re-wiping dishes in front of a host or even wait staff? Mental recognition of dangerous water is one thing; emotional acceptance is quite another; applying that daily operations and explaining it is very nearly a bridge too far. Some realities are better left known and uncited. I can reuse my one dish limiting exposure and appear a heathen. This feels better than offending my hosts by insulting their water.



The coke was a nice flashback. The glass bottle was familiar from an earlier time. The ridges were somehow different from the glass bottles of my childhood but the weight and firmness of glass were long lost friends in a modern world of plastic bottles and aluminum cans. The label was visually worn from numerous bouts of shipping, storage, and refill. There are a few pockets in the US that still appreciate and collect glass bottles. This bottle could easily have been plucked off the shelf of a small town drug store which most would deem a junk shop. Only in the US the bottle would be empty rather than in production use for daily circulation, delivery, and reuse.

Accessing the tasty treat inside the bottle required a genuine bottle opener. Sure we still have and use bottle openers in the US; only they are associated with more adult beverages. No plastic or twist tops here. Again, an artifact from a simpler time in my US based life.

The bottle contents were another treat. The glass was cold and the liquid inside chilled to the point of crystallization. Ice floating in the neck of the bottle made pouring and gulping impossible. A straw tunneled through the blockage to the tasty treat below. Coke is okay. Icy Coke is better. Icy Coke made with real sugar is wonderful. Truly taste the difference. I really enjoyed this Coke. The road beside the restaurant was an atypical Indian thoroughfare with smooth surface and fast flow. I might as well have been sitting in small town USA.



Only I wasn't in small town USA. The glass bottle had been recycled in tact numerous times. Waste reduction, recycling, and conservation were everywhere. US economics make it "cheaper" to use lots of new and disposable everything. India economics make conservation "cheaper". I wish this economic model would migrate westward. Unfortunately I suspect this economic model is inseparable from an underpinning of unimaginably cheap labor. I think breakfast complete with generous tip came to $4 USD.

Cashing out in Rupees (220 INR) and a trip to the facilities goaded me back to the present reality of my first solo trip slightly off the beaten path in India.

Follow Lane Discipline

You have to experience India traffic to fully appreciate this sign in the median.


Lanes are scarce to begin with and the only discipline I've seen around them are efforts to drive exactly astraddle of lane lines.

People are unrelenting in kindness. Concepts of personal space are different as are paradigms of engagements with others. Acceptance is everywhere. I found myself walking down a domestic back alley today and the elders were skeptical but still not hostile. Kids were welcoming and engaging and shared a hidden shortcut to access the major road.

Speaking of acceptance there are signs of Christmas everywhere even with a very small Christian population



Sometimes I question the efficacy of expendable human labor. I don't know how effective water pails will be for a petrol station fire



Temples are truly everywhere. I suspect there is some aspect of redundancy to accommodate the volume of worshippers.



A nice young lady took note of my difference and escorted me through the temple explaining symbology. The temple included faux constructed mountain caves. Cramped quarters seem to be a right of passage at times. It's good for folks of smaller stature. It's a challenge for anyone with the slightest hint of claustrophobia.

American culture is everywhere here.







I'm happy to see so much recycling here. Who needs a powerline or telephone pole when you have trees?



I'm also happy to see an appreciation of open spaces even in densely populated areas.



We just need to make more use of those open spaces. It appears Indians and Americans share a tendency for over-indulgence in food and the resulting diabetes and heart disease



Its nice being about to walk about in most places. I love the tagline for Cafe Coffee Day - "A lot can happen over coffee". Warm beverage is a universal comfort food. At the same time it's still no Starbucks Venti.



They work 12+ hour days WITHOUT caffeine overdose. At the same time India does move at a different pace. I think living on India time is still more casual than "Livin on Tulsa Time".

Compare and Contrast...

This feels like a compulsory assignment that's been ongoing since grade school English class. My muse is inspired and the pool deck is peaceful so up with the posts!



Warning: Entering stream of consciousness. Keep hands and arms inside the car and fast seat belts, or run away now.

Toilets are a never ending adventure. I feel doubly bad for people who get sick here. It's bad enough being sick. The facilities can only exacerbate the situation. Toilets are usually in small rooms with full length doors. Doors go floor to ceiling sealing in the space and stifling air flow. Inside the closet is anything from a seat to a trench in the floor. Everything is incessantly wet. It is customary to wash rather than wipe. There is typically a short water nozzle on the right and sometimes a roll of toilet paper on the left. Toilet paper always has a small hood to deflect water spray.


The perforation in toilet paper is more like printed ink dashes than true perforations so there's never an easy clean tear. The closets are always wet all over. I can't fathom how clothes stay dry in a stall that wet. In gentle discussions the suggested technique is to fill the hand with water and splash appropriately.

This just does not compute for me. To me water implies slippery floor and wet clothes. Further water is neither a disinfectant nor a barrier. In Boy Scout fashion I travel prepared with TP. It has come in handy on multiple occasions. I've also adopted liberal use of hand soap and hand sanitizer.

There are several water conservation mechanisms. I've seen very few bath tubs. Spray wands or splash buckets seem preferred to full on shower heads. Most toilets seem to two flush levers. I want to believe these are akin to the liquid/solid flush options on newer toilets in the states. In my testing the larger and smaller flush levers invoke the same volume of water. I suspect a disconnect between concept and implementation. In my estimation water saved in the non-shower is otherwise spent in visits to the toilet. Net:net, it's a wash.



The first two hotels also lacked wash cloths. I reveled in a good scrub upon finding a wash cloth at the 3rd hotel. Again I was thankful for Boy Scout preparedness with handkerchief and a multipurpose microfiber towel. The towel is one triathlon goody bag souvenir that's seen plenty of use. It washes, it wipes, it absorbs, and it dries fast. Hat tip to Hitchhiker's guide - always carry a towel.


Let's move out of the closet an on to other peculiarities. Drive on the left, most of the time. This doesn't translate to passing on the right. It doesn't translate to walking on the left. It doesn't even always mean driving on the left. It seems more recommendation than a hard and fast rule. Drivers sit on the right and shift left handed. That was interesting but not insurmountable (thanks Thomas!). My achilles heel manifests as a pedestrian navigating traffic.

I spent (a long time) looking left before entering a road. It's ingrained and elicits a conditioned process for road crossing. Looking right first just does not compute. When I can remember to look right first it does not trigger the imprinted real life game of frogger. Further, as difficult as frogger was, it still pales in comparison to crossing busy Indian roads.


English isn't necessarily English. I've heard sounds that registered no familiarity. I've spoken to blank stares. In some ways its great training for meetings. Apply effort at critical junctures and roll with the flow of everything else.


No means yes. There is a head bobble that actually means yes. It is most akin to shaking the head left and right which indicates no in american society. It's subtly different and the devil is in the subtle details. The head bobble most similar to no actually means yes.


Units require conversion and the metric system isn't as widely adopted as worldly travelers would like us Americans to believe. Many people ride motorcycles for efficiency.



Multidimensional units like MPG to KM/H invoke memories of "cross cancelation" (?) from high school chemistry and physics. In the end Indian offroad vehicles still get 38mpg on 4 cylinder Diesel engines. That bests my 4 door sedan Nissan maxima daily driver back home.



To close out for now I'll touch on clothing. People here dress really nicely. Everyone sports nice ensembles. I see very few basic t-shirts and even those can't really be described as basic. They are typically accessorized in a tasteful manner. There may be trash on the streets and in the gutters but people are well appointed and building interiors are fastidiously tended. Americans are most easily spotted by their dressed down style. I made a conscious decision to travel light and dress nice (thanks Paul!). My "nice" marginally suffices for daily coming and going here. It will be a change to go back to cargo shorts and tech shirts.

Oh, and food. Earlier this year I moved off the typical american meat/corn/wheat diet and on to vegetables. Eating here is difficult. Everything is rice based (s/corn|wheat/rice/g). Fresh vegetables are off the menu because of water concerns. Veg meals tend to be fried or cooked in rich sauces. Simple steamed vegetables are a rare find and viable pots of gold.

So far I've avoided getting sick. I'm going to credit this to ScottV and Lal. Scott gave to the tip to keep bottled water on bathroom vanity by toothbrush as reminder to brush with bottled water. Lal helped me learn to navigate safe foods. Thanks Guys! The precautions mean a limited diet but it's well worth the sacrifice. Along these lines I tend to indulge in safe foods at breakfast buffet. This is known safe, plentiful, and convenient. Then i'm free to go where the day leads supplementing with cliff bars or trail mix as necessary. I ventured into a grocery store yesterday and found a few old favorites including nature's own granola bars and kitkats. This and a transported case of cliff bars are emergency rations for eating on the go or gnawing on calories in the room before passing out from exhaustion after a day full of activity.

Speaking of activity it's time to move. There's a strange and beautiful world out there just waiting to be explored.

A Walk in Bengaluru

Publish fast and publish often... or at least I should be. I will back post to cover the last week. For now a look at the morning commute




Facing north from hotel. Sharp contrast to the marble and glass hotel room.




Facing west from the hotel.



Google found walking directions for the 2km between hotel and office. I had the driver cover the route last night so I could see what I was getting myself into. I didn't follow this exact path but it's good enough for landmarks.



I think this is "No Trespassing" in any language.



Sweeping roads inside the business park



And finally my home away from home, or at least one building of it. Campus is beautiful. I can't articulate the relief when my badge scanned green at turn styles and door ways. Membership has its privileges.

Highlights of the walk over
* hotel security guard turned me back toward the lobby when I exited via stairs
* several rounds of frogger crossing roads. I'd like to video street crossing to help others appreciate but I need all my faculties engaged otherwise
* I rerouted laterally on the far side of a road around a ditch below and waist high live electrical wire
* at one point I hoped on across the tops of poles ala "Jungle Hunt" (anyone?) to escape questionable ground below while leaning right to avoid a questionable looking electrical installation
* I've come to appreciate horns to mean, "Hello, I'm here". One bus passed particularly close on my right (walk/drive on the left here) without a gratuitous horn and spooked me a bit. He was close enough and fast enough the wind blew me off balance.

Otherwise there were simple people going about their daily lives. I saw welding, construction, auto repairs, tire repairs, deliveries, and all manner of commuting. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. Well, assuming the garment has legs.

It was an invigorating 2km walk.

Jammu India

I was graciously invited on a trip to Jammu in the north of India. I cannot overstate the kindness of friends and the value of a local contact in foreign lands. For now I can only say Thank You and in the future I will pay it forward.

Good omens started at Mumbai Airport. Awaiting an outbound flight we were still trying to figure out how to dial certain Indian phone numbers from US mobile phones. The announcement for failed calls was a very pleasant woman's voice the first few times. A fellow passenger overheard our puerile telephony attempts and chimed in. In the end a Cosmo author taught two voice engineers to place calls and then set off to Kashmir. Thanks Rena(sp?), you are amazing!

There was one casualty of this trip - my US drivers license. Somewhere between being insufficient identification at flight checkin and setting off wands at security checkpoints it went missing. Note to other travelers don't bother carrying it, its mostly useless. The museum in Mumbai preferred to hold my hotel room key over my drivers license as collateral. That should have put things into perspective. What can I say, I'm slow on the uptake.

Then things got interesting. I was vaguely aware of the hostility between India and Pakistan. Jammu is ~16km (I still have to convert from miles) from the Pakistan border. Exiting the plane onto the tarmac a soldier with automatic weapon encouraged me to delete freshly snapped pictures. Inside the terminal there were more soldiers than passengers. We progressed through without incident. I never perceived any actual hostility. It is a personal issue that I am uneasy around soldiers with fingers on the triggers of automatic weapons (note: not shouldered). The people were nice, just prepared, and I can respect that.

Overlooking the armaments Jammu was a normal city with people going about normal activities.


Primary industries seem to be garment manufacturing, mining, and tourism. There were major road construction projects underway along NH1A. Military and security were also major employers. Metal detectors appeared mandatory everywhere. I found it entertaining how we always to go through the detectors, pretty much always set them off, and no one ever seemed to care. The gates were almost obligatory check marks.





The white night symbolism captured my interest. This drew a reminder that the military is interesting but not particularly photogenic. I pocketed my camera until more sparsely populated area.

Monkeys lined the side of the road awaiting handouts and discards from passing cars. Some wondered into traffic but did not make it back out. Terrain turned mountainous and breathtaking.



The hotel greeted us with the cultural significance of the area and I received my first red dot.



The trip was amazing and concurrently very personal.



For now it will have to suffice to just say "Wow". I was very clearly a stranger in a strange land and yet welcomed all the same. I did my best to pay respect, show appreciation, and reciprocate kindness and generosity when opportunities presented. It was humbling to be present, let alone participate at an unprecedented level.



Daylight of the following day revealed fresh perspectives on the beauty of the Tawi River Valley region.






Kashmir is further north and supposedly more breathtaking. Hopefully cooler minds will prevail in the future and reopen this beautiful area. At the same time there is already a steady stream of people. Perhaps tension is a guard against further proliferation?



Reality was still firmly in place back at the airport. This was to be my last chaperoned travel for a while. My next steps out on my own would be much easier after this rich introduction to India.