!ndia

recent news

2010-04-05T00:02:00.002+05:30

sorry for the long time between posts.

i spent last week in aurangabad, nashik, and bombay. near aurangabad are the ajanta and ellora caves, both really old carved-rock cave temples. it's amazing how well they have been preserved (they were only rediscovered in the 1800's i believe), particularly the wall paintings. my hard drive crashed recently, which partly accounts for the delay in posting and is the reason i cannot post pictures from the trip just yet. we also saw the poor man's taj mahal in aurangabad (bibi ka maqbara).

i only decided to go to nashik because it's the napa valley of india. yep, indian wineries. we spent the day going from winery to winery and in the vineyards. particularly impressive was the sula vineyards (http://www.sulawines.com). sula's the largest wine producer in india. i think the sula folks may not have appreciated me nearly as much as i enjoyed them given that they had to send a couple of men to hunt me down as i frolicked through their vineyards picking and eat from the hanging bunches of grapes. apparently these grapes are the late season variety, which means they are naturally very sweet and juicy. simply picking a grape from the bunch would often cause the juice in the grape to squirt a foot away!

finally, bombay. i was corrected a couple of times for calling it bombay, especially by the bus stand man in nashik who rather poignantly informed me that there were no buses to bombay, only mumbai. true, its name is mumbai. but i grew up calling it bombay. people in chennai don't get mad when the city is called madras. it's not derogatory to say bombay. same to same, as the indos say.

every time i go to bombay, i love the city more. the people are by far the most hip, well-traveled, and fun-loving of any indian city. some say bangalore is great in these respects - i'll write back at the end of the month when i'm there. bombay: the food is great - variety, quality, quantity, price. i went to a wine bar one night to meet the old roommate of a med school friend, which turned out to be a lot fun. in contrast, i cannot legally buy wine in chennai. i only say that to highlight the contrast because i do really really like chennai. but it's very different from bombay. i had great cheesecake at basilico, a cafe in colaba. a pitcher at a pizzeria on marine drive overlooking both the sea and the south bombay skyline after having spent the day roaming the narrow, hot and poverty-stricken yet cheery alleys of dharavi - the largest slum in asia. great pancakes and brownies at theobrama in bandra. the victorian architecture, the broad avenues, the parks (maidans) with their greenery, the cafes at every corner. it's hard to reconcile my experience of bombay with for instance the grim depictions of its workings in suketu mehta's maximum city.

will post pics soon. and i'll try to write something humorous tomorrow.

Varanasi photos

2010-03-04T21:10:00.002+05:30

Quick story to go along with (and explain a few of) these pictures. I had a flight from Delhi to Chennai last Monday morning at 6:45. I woke up at 6:05am, so I went back to sleep. As a punishment to myself and to avoid paying for a last minute plane ticket, I decided to make the 30-hour train ride from Delhi (northern India) to Chennai (southern India). Fortunately, I got a ticket leaving the same day and only had to miss one day at work. The last few photos are in Andhra Pradesh on the train ride back.

Varanasi Feb 2010

Varanasi panoramic

2010-02-26T10:35:00.005+05:30

put together from 28 individual photos. you can see the Ganges River on either end of the picture. click on the picture to see the enlarged image for full effect.

video in Old Delhi

2010-02-24T17:08:00.003+05:30

I've been in Delhi, Jaipur, and Varanasi for the past week and a half. Delhi to find myself some new projects to work on, Jaipur to visit family, Varanasi to scope out a new place in India.

One of my favorite parts about being in Hindi-speaking India is talking to people I encounter. The conversations are always interesting and often amusing. It makes photographing more fun as well. While I enjoy Chennai and southern India, it's the sort of interactions captured here that I cannot have in South India. I am not sure how informative or formative these types of interactions are, but I tend to be a believer in experiential learning. You're obviously closer to people who you can communicate with and problems that you can internalize through first-hand encounters.

A friend took her camera and captured the two of us strolling through Old Delhi, traversing a vegetable market, heading toward a bread omelette stand, all while on our way to Karim's near Jama Masjid. We stopped to talk to the kids on the streets selling vegetables and making omelettes. Actually considered one of the "less safe" areas of Delhi, it's fairly evident that a little bit of personal interaction can turn a seemingly unsafe place - admittedly, it is not very inviting if you're not conversing with the people - into an incredibly safe one in an instant.

Pictures of Varanasi to come soon. I'll also try to post the pictures that I am shown taking in this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWoIFnNG29o

really...I work?

2010-02-03T01:06:00.001+05:30

I should devote some space on this blog to my job - seeing that work is the reason I am in India. It's easier to start out with a pictorial tour of a fun day at work and work my way toward more specific duties and projects. For the verbiage inclined: I work at a private, diabetes research foundation in Chennai - the Madras Diabetes Research Foundation (MDRF). I propose and devise studies and then implement those that are feasible given my time and resource constraints. All of my work has to do with populations, though MDRF spans the research spectrum from the bench (laboratory and basic science) to the bedside (translational research).

Less than urban Tamil Nadu

flight of tears

2010-01-31T23:34:00.002+05:30

Humorous, very Indian, probably 99% accurate:
Flight of Tears

Also, eggsplosion number 2 happened yesterday. I will always set a timer from now on.

the zero rupee note

2010-01-29T13:08:00.004+05:30

simple solutions to often complicated, pervasive problems deserve more attention:

Paying Zero for Public Services

Kerala

2010-01-22T01:35:00.003+05:30

Kerala dubs itself God's Own Country - I think the pictures may convince you.

Kerala is an Indian state in the southwestern corner of the country. Endowed with amazing natural beauty and kept pristine by local governments and people who do much to maintain cleanliness, it is a truly unique place. Within a hundred kilometers of each other you find phenomenal beaches, backwaters, historic sites, hills, and mountains.

In the photos are Mayank, one of my college roommates (the only one I have not yet disowned), and Sohum, a friend from Atlanta.

Kerala

still coughing about that one (or eggsplosion)

2010-01-18T22:40:00.003+05:30

it should be noted that loud noises are common in india. explosion-type loud noises. usually, a kid in the neighborhood is setting off fireworks. other times, there's some festival i don't know about (just about anything qualifies for festival status here) going on that calls for celebratory fireworks. or a wedding, etc. i've become quite numb to loud noises. these noises are so common that sending american veterans to india for ptsd treatment via exposure therapy might actually work.

so today i came home from the gym, ate my standard post-workout meal, and set some eggs to boil on the stove for later. i showered, sent a few emails, was distracted by a phone call, and then my mom called.

my mom and i play this game where she asks me what i have eaten for the past three meals. i never can remember, and i always say i have no clue and then ask her to stop annoying me by asking what i ate. she says she doesn't understand how a person cannot remember what his/her previous meals were and that my memory is faltering. so she encourages me to remember and never forgets to ask.

true to form, she called and asked what i have been eating lately. i jumped out of bed and bolted downstairs. the smoke had already wafted up the stairwell and was settling just outside my shut door. i was scared i was in the process of burning my house down; this notion was supported by the many loud pops i suddenly recalled hearing over the past hour. luckily, there were only eggs splattered everywhere in the kitchen. i managed to turn the burner off. i went to my maid's house and pleaded with her to help me out. we settled on how i would make her dinner one day if she came to help me clean tonight. much better than the new sari she asked for to start off the negotiations. but she really is a nice person. crisis averted.

morals of the story:
never take an explosion-like noise for granted
let your mother ask you inane questions

it's not all rosy here

2010-01-16T00:57:00.003+05:30

At times, I have been told that I am an unwavering optimist with regard to India - that I refuse to see the darker side of the country, the angles and perspectives that are truly a thorn in the side of, if not an absolute impediment to, its development and progress. Of course, I do not agree. And really, it's hard to know who's right and who's wrong at this juncture (and thinking in absolutes is probably not the best way to adjudicate anyhow) - India is a remarkably young country (and a young idea as well - this loose amalgamation of what seem to be countries that we call states, all complete with their own customs, languages, traditions, superstitions, etc., is still in its infancy and ever-so-slowly learning to crawl). Many external indicators portend a bright future for India, namely economic indicators. At times, however, I feel it's justified to read someone else's sobering opinion of this country. My enthusiasm for India's potential should not be mistaken to mean that I feel that we are on a definite path to all things desirable in a nation. Rather, given proper, insightful leadership and steady improvement in a variety of arena, there is much hope for India's tomorrow. But today, the place is riddled with problems - the extent of many are unimaginable elsewhere in the world. I copy and paste below the opinions of an individual who has traveled in India. Disregarding his factual errors, a few misspellings and grammatical errors, he does truly describe India today. As my adviser said, he speaks the truth insofar as truth is a perception and not an absolute.

As I said, he describes India today. But I disagree entirely with the reasons he says have caused India's status today, as well as the conclusions and projections he pulls from his experiences. Ruminate on this for a while. I'll post some responses and thoughts in a few days. Feel free to comment in the interim, even if your comment is only another question or another personal narrative of India.

Reflections on India
by Sean-Paul Kelley

If you are Indian, or of Indian descent, I must preface this post with a clear warning: you are not going to like what I have to say. My criticisms may be very hard to stomach. But consider them as the hard words and loving advice of a good friend. Someone who’s being honest with you and wants nothing from you. These criticisms apply to all of India except Kerala and the places I didn’t visit, except that I have a feeling it applies to all of India, except as I mentioned before, Kerala. Lastly, before anyone accuses me of Western Cultural Imperialism, let me say this: if this is what India and Indians want, then hey, who am I to tell them differently. Take what you like and leave the rest. In the end it doesn’t really matter, as I get the sense that Indians, at least many upper class Indians, don’t seem to care and the lower classes just don’t know any better, what with Indian culture being so intense and pervasive on the sub-continent. But here goes, nonetheless.

India is a mess. It’s that simple, but it’s also quite complicated. I’ll start with what I think are India’s four major problems–the four most preventing India from becoming a developing nation–and then move to some of the ancillary ones.

First, pollution. In my opinion the filth, squalor and all around pollution indicates a marked lack of respect for India by Indians. I don’t know how cultural the filth is, but it’s really beyond anything I have ever encountered. At times the smells, trash, refuse and excrement are like a garbage dump. Right next door to the Taj Mahal was a pile of trash that smelled so bad, was so foul as to almost ruin the entire Taj experience. Delhi, Bangalore and Chennai to a lesser degree were so very polluted as to make me physically ill. Sinus infections, ear infection, bowels churning was an all to common experience in India. Dung, be it goat, cow or human fecal matter was common on the streets. In major tourist areas filth was everywhere, littering the sidewalks, the roadways, you name it. Toilets in the middle of the road, men urinating and defecating anywhere, in broad daylight. Whole villages are plastic bag wastelands. Roadsides are choked by it. Air quality that can hardly be called quality. Far too much coal and far to few unleaded vehicles on the road. The measure should be how dangerous the air is for one’s health, not how good it is. People casually throw trash in the streets, on the roads. The only two cities that could be considered sanitary in my journey were Trivandrum–the capital of Kerala–and Calicut. I don’t know why this is. But I can assure you that at some point this pollution will cut into India’s productivity, if it already hasn’t. The pollution will hobble India’s growth path, if that indeed is what the country wants. (Which I personally doubt, as India is far too conservative a country, in the small ‘c’ sense.)

The second issue, infrastructure, can be divided into four subcategories: roads, rails and ports and the electrical grid. The electrical grid is a joke. Load shedding is all too common, everywhere in India. Wide swaths of the country spend much of the day without the electricity they actually pay for. With out regular electricity, productivity, again, falls. The ports are a joke. Antiquated, out of date, hardly even appropriate for the mechanized world of container ports, more in line with the days of longshoremen and the like. Roads are an equal disaster. I only saw one elevated highway that would be considered decent in Thailand, much less Western Europe or America. And I covered fully two thirds of the country during my visit. There are so few dual carriage way roads as to be laughable. There are no traffic laws to speak of, and if there are, they are rarely obeyed, much less enforced. A drive that should take an hour takes three. A drive that should take three takes nine. The buses are at least thirty years old, if not older. Everyone in India, or who travels in India raves about the railway system. Rubbish. It’s awful. Now, when I was there in 2003 and then late 2004 it was decent. But in the last five years the traffic on the rails has grown so quickly that once again, it is threatening productivity. Waiting in line just to ask a question now takes thirty minutes. Routes are routinely sold out three and four days in advance now, leaving travelers stranded with little option except to take the decrepit and dangerous buses. At least fifty million people use the trains a day in India. 50 million people! Not surprising that waitlists of 500 or more people are common now. The rails are affordable and comprehensive but they are overcrowded and what with budget airlines popping up in India like Sadhus in an ashram the middle and lowers classes are left to deal with the overutilized rails and quality suffers. No one seems to give a shit. Seriously, I just never have the impression that the Indian government really cares. Too interested in buying weapons from Russia, Israel and the US I guess.

The last major problem in India is an old problem and can be divided into two parts that’ve been two sides of the same coin since government was invented: bureaucracy and corruption. It take triplicates to register into a hotel. To get a SIM card for one’s phone is like wading into a jungle of red-tape and photocopies one is not likely to emerge from in a good mood, much less satisfied with customer service. Getting train tickets is a terrible ordeal, first you have to find the train number, which takes 30 minutes, then you have to fill in the form, which is far from easy, then you have to wait in line to try and make a reservation
, which takes 30 minutes at least and if you made a single mistake on the form back you go to the end of the queue, or what passes for a queue in India. The government is notoriously uninterested in the problems of the commoners, too busy fleecing the rich, or trying to get rich themselves in some way shape or form. Take the trash for example, civil rubbish collection authorities are too busy taking kickbacks from the wealthy to keep their areas clean that they don’t have the time, manpower, money or interest in doing their job. Rural hospitals are perennially understaffed as doctors pocket the fees the government pays them, never show up at the rural hospitals and practice in the cities instead.

I could go on for quite some time about my perception of India and its problems, but in all seriousness, I don’t think anyone in India really cares. And that, to me, is the biggest problem. India is too conservative a society to want to change in any way. Mumbai, India’s financial capital is about as filthy, polluted and poor as the worst city imaginable in Vietnam, or Indonesia–and being more polluted than Medan, in Sumatra is no easy task. The biggest rats I have ever seen were in Medan!

One would expect a certain amount of, yes, I am going to use this word, backwardness, in a country that hasn’t produced so many Nobel Laureates, nuclear physicists, imminent economists and entrepreneurs. But India has all these things and what have they brought back to India with them? Nothing. The rich still have their servants, the lower castes are still there to do the dirty work and so the country remains in stasis. It’s a shame. Indians and India have many wonderful things to offer the world, but I’m far from sanguine that India will amount to much in my lifetime.

Now, have at it, call me a cultural imperialist, a spoiled child of the West and all that. But remember, I’ve been there. I’ve done it. And I’ve seen 50 other countries on this planet and none, not even Ethiopia, have as long and gargantuan a laundry list of problems as India does. And the bottom line is, I don’t think India really cares. Too complacent and too conservative.

from:
http://www.seanpaulkelley.com/?p=620

Festival Time

2010-01-15T20:25:00.002+05:30

Chennai has a music, dance, and Tamil cultural festival every year from the middle of December to the middle of January. I try to take in the performances whenever possible, especially the traditional dance (Bharat Natyam), which is often fantastic. Today, however, I experienced something new. A co-worker encouraged me to come along with her to an Alliance Francaise sponsored event entitled "The Giraffes." Essentially, there were large, red, inflated giraffes manned by (French) people pulling strings (causing the extended necks of the giraffes to lengthen and then wilt) making their way through crowded (but blocked-off-to-traffic) streets, while two opera singers sang and twirled rings of fire through the air while being catapulted by enormous see-saws. If the mental image conjured by that description is hazy, think of what it was like to be there. The crowds, of course Indian and timid, were constantly scared of the performers who would suddenly swing by, leading to many near stampedes. Perhaps the event can best be described as opera, circus, parade, and cultural extravaganza all in one. Too bad I didn't have my camera on me.

today

2010-01-06T21:19:00.002+05:30

i have been inspired to write shorter but more frequent entries. let's see how long this lasts.

1. went to the dentist today to get my teeth cleaned (teeth 'scaled' is the appropriate term i believe) - uneventful. 1000 Rupees. 30 mins. i asked if they autoclave their instruments before i sat down.

2. joined a new gym today. i'll start there when i'm back from kerala.

3. 5 minutes in india never really means 5 minutes. in the past 2 weeks, i have had >10 different people tell me to wait 5 minutes (usually it's something like "just 5 minutes" or "5 minutes only" coupled with a side-to-side head bob). the shortest actual time to fruition was 20 minutes. on the flipside, i have now started to respond "wait 5 minutes" for any number of requests.

4. i thought i found a decent falafel joint in chennai today until i realized that my falafel wrap included a surprise ingredient: french fries.

5. hair in and around my food doesn't phase me anymore.

6. off to kerala tomorrow morning! if i haven't told you yet the extent to which one my travel mates insists on luxury in all aspects of travel, ask me about it. should be a great time!

thoughts about water from the office

2010-01-05T16:04:00.004+05:30

1. water bottles are fair game for anybody to use. i buy a 750 mL bottle of water daily to drink while at work. i am lucky if i ultimately drink even 375 mL of the original 750 mL.

2. pilfering water is not something that needs to be done covertly. many people come up to me, knowing that i always have a bottle of water around, and ask me for water. then they drink to their heart's content from my bottle and give it back to me.

3. but nobody puts their lips on the bottle. in north india, there is the concept of 'jhoota', which is best translated to mean contaminated. as long as you don't put your lips on the bottle (ie. you pour the water from the bottle into your mouth), all is well and nothing is contaminated. jhoota can also be applied to food, though i have yet to understand the rules of jhoota to food.

4. water bottles can be recycled and re-filled over and over. but after a bottle has been around for one week, it needs to be discarded because the plastic from the bottle (somehow) starts to enter the water at this time, making it dangerous to drink. go figure.

5. i buy bottled water because i drink neither tap water nor filtered water of suspect origin. there is a tank of filtered water just outside my office for drinking. i guess my water tastes better.

6. all of this happens at an institution of higher learning in india.

Recent pictures

2010-01-05T15:59:00.004+05:30

Below are some pictures - a few are from Trichy, a city south of Chennai known for its temples (like most south Indian cities). The rest are from the terrace of my house, since some people want to know what my accommodations in India are like. I will get around to taking pictures of the interiors of the house at some point.

Trichy & My Terrace

Wedding Festivities in Jaipur

2009-12-27T14:26:00.002+05:30

No updates for a while, I know. Aside from the wedding, I have been busy with work the entire month. The weather is finally really nice here (high of 28C, low of 19C) every day. The rains have subsided. Christmas was interesting - if for no other reason because extremely dark-complexioned men were dispersed throughout the city in the form of Santa Claus. I guess there should be no complexion-based discrimination for the position of Santa Claus, but it was quite the visual contrast from the image of Santa I have always had. Most of South India has a fairly significant Christian population, so there is definitely an air of festivity around Christmas (unlike in much of north India). Off to Kerala in a few weeks for vacation with friends from college as soon as another study is up and running at work - I will post a narrative and pictures when I return.

In advance, happy new year to all!

Jaipur, Wedding

Malaysian Musings

2009-11-30T23:24:00.003+05:30

Happy December!

Malaysia

Malaysia -

Before the start of the trip, I was not sure what to expect, though my limited readings (mostly from the news media) led me to believe I would encounter a fairly sterile Islamic society with smatterings of ethnic Chinese and Indian culture intermixed. On the whole, I think that is what I found. In many ways, it was an incredibly welcome change. Our paranoia that everybody was out to scam us quickly subsided. People throughout the country seemed warm, friendly, and willing to help. And the majority spoke stellar English.

We started our trip on the island of Penang (which means Betel Nut in Malay and is the origin to the well-known Penang curry). We did not actually mean to stay in Penang at all - we had every intention of arriving and taking a ferry the same day to the Langkawi Islands. Unfortunately, the two daily ferries depart within 15 minutes of one another beginning at 8:15 am. The capital of Penang - Georgetown - is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, though I am not entirely sure why and have not yet been compelled to research the topic. It seems that everywhere we went on this trip, including in Bangkok, we happened unintentionally to wander into the Little India and Chinatown segments of each locale. Penang was no different. The island is (I am referencing a cab driver here) majority Chinese, with a minority Malay and Indian culture. The Indians, like in all of Malaysia, are primarily Tamilians, some with roots generations old on the Malaysian peninsula. Dosas, sambar, chutneys, etc. were flowing from every corner of the city. Penang was sort of a microcosm of Southeast Asia on a single island - night bazaars, beaches, ethnic foods (we had great Lebanese food here one night next to the beach), natural beauty (there is a small national park that we did not make it to).

Onward the next morning to Langkawi by ferry. This group of islands is fairly remarkable, though much to my chagrin, also quite tourist-filled as well. The main strip on the main island is where we stayed and is sort of the life of the island. Walking up and down the road, you might mistake the place for some small European getaway.

The natural beauty of the islands, however, was breathtaking. We took a boat to several of the smaller islands, replete with clear water beaches, wildlife-filled forests and coasts, zip-lining, scenic lakes, and the wonders of uninhabited places. Sadly, the combination of intermittent rain and aquacentric activities prevented great picture taking.

Kuala Lumpur was a great shopping destination, with a tourist-dominated night life. One night we went to one "Bollywood Club", which was actually just 6-8 girls dancing on a stage to Hindi songs (some karaoke, some played by a dj) while overweight, middle-aged Indian men (dyslipidemics, no doubt) swooned over and threw money at the girls. Petronas Towers was worth seeing because they are incredibly tall and shiny. Kobe got swindled by a Malaysian who sold him a ChiNokia (Chinese Nokia) phone outside of the towers - but he says he is happy with the phone and, to be fair, he did not pay much for it.

Easily, the single greatest part of KL was the food! Typically in the US (and India and the rest of the world), one does not associate good foods with shopping malls. But in Malaysia, we quickly realized (with the help of the Le Meridien concierge who assumed we were guests because we happened to be in the lobby) that some of the best food in the city can be found in the malls. I found two great fake meat restaurants in KL that served off-the-chain food - both located inside shopping malls. For those who have been to Cafe Sunflower in Atlanta or Red Bamboo in New York, think better tasting food for a fraction of the price!

Back in Chennai now, working like an Indian until next week, when I reunite with the family for wedding festivities in Jaipur.

Hustled in Thailand

2009-11-30T00:53:00.004+05:30

Back from travels. Some thoughts I wrote down to share. I think the pictures speak for themselves, though these are only pictures from my camera. We took lots of pictures with Kobe's point-and-shoot camera that I will upload once he gets them to me.

Thailand

Thailand-

I have never met so many hustlers in one place in my life. It felt like our entire time in Bangkok was spent trying to evade scam after scam.

Our first day in the country we were stopped and patted down by the police as we were taking a tuk-tuk back to our hotel. We never received a real explanation as to why - it may have had something to do with the 8 or so handcuffed Indians we saw at a local jail a few minutes later. Thankfully, we had our passports on us. Indians are hustlers too, which is why in this case proving we were not Indian was useful. Speaking of hustling, thanks to Kobe, we stayed 3 nights in a 4-star hotel for a total of 36 USD.

The same night, we went to one of the big night bazaars to shop and get food. Because the Thai are not so proficient in English, many hotels give their guests cards with directions back to the hotel written in Thai. After some decent street food and a few drinks, we haggled with a tuk-tuk driver to take us back to the hotel for 50 Baht. We handed over the card that the hotel gave us so that he would know where to go. As soon as we sat in the tuk-tuk, he pulled out the card and started to tear it in half, saying he wanted 100 Baht for the ride. Of course, he had no idea that we each had another card with directions on us, which we then showed him. At this point, he was clearly peaved. He popped a minimum of two wheelies in addition to driving like a maniac on the way back to the hotel. But we only paid 50 Baht. Scam averted. It was fun!

I have never seen prostitution as blatant as it was in Thailand. Interestingly, most Thais seem to accept that it happens - it wasn't just the prime tourist areas that were teeming with prostitutes. According to one book I read, "most" Thai men are adulterers.

We managed to chance upon the gay bar scene in Bangkok, which for two guys with little interest in taking home a Thai woman for the night, was great. I suspect male prostitution may be just as common in that district as female prostitution is in other parts. Even though we sat as far away from each other as possible, never shared a martini, and never fed each through interlocking arms (as was happening at the tables around us), nobody doubted the legitimacy of Kobe and I as a couple.

Thai food was at times great in Thailand, though on the whole, rather disappointing. Maybe I have grown too accustomed to Top Spice in Atlanta to appreciate what genuine Thai food is. The street food was generally very good, but the restaurant dining left something to be desired. Street food favorites included pad thai, mango sticky rice, and Thai iced tea. The green curry pictured in the photo was pretty good as well, with plenty of spice as I asked for. All in all, still better than Tofu Tina's.

The infrastructure in Bangkok is off the chain. I should have taken more pictures of the infrastructural marvels. I can't remember if Kobe did. Public transport - including a skytrain, metro, and water taxi system - coupled with cheap cabs made getting around the city easy. The malls and shopping centers in the heart of the city are all connected directly to public transit stations. The airport was a neat architectural feat as well.

It was a novel experience being in a place where Buddhism is predmoninantly practiced. Looking closely, I noticed many cultural, religious, and linguistic similarities between Thailand and India, not the least of which are ancient and modern Hindu temples that are run and supported by Thais. Linguistically, there are many mutually intelligible words.

The local Bangkokites seemed to not have a very favorable opinion of Indians. One coconut vendor nearly refused to sell me a Thai coconut (which if you've never had one, go find one now) because I was Indian and "love money." He then asked me if my Prime Minister (referring to Manmohan Singh) also loves money. I bet the Indians in Thailand are mostly businessman and are likely frugal, but I am not sure what (if anything) they have done to earn this reputation.

Cabs in Bangkok run on a meter. As we were heading to the airport at 5am, our hotel doorman flagged us down a cab and assured us we only needed to pay what the meter said. He confirmed this with the driver. About 1 km later, the driver gestured that the meter was broken and that he wanted 500 Baht for the trip. We were too tired to argue, but even on our way out we couldn't avoid being hustled.

I will post about Malaysia soon.

indian english at its best

2009-11-17T16:23:00.002+05:30

hi dear friend
how r u
i m fine & i m rj from jaisalmer(rajasthan)
i hope you rembber me no forget's
so dear now you where?
i hope you came again's
if you call me so my this number
94147*****
ok by have a nice days
your friend
raj harsh

anyways, i was amused. off to thailand and malaysia.

travel photos from the previous 2 weeks

2009-11-10T23:42:00.003+05:30

2009-11-4 Ahmedabad

2009 Bombay

2009-10-28 Hyderabad

It's raining

2009-11-10T14:37:00.004+05:30

There has been near constant rainfall in Chennai for the past 2 weeks. Though the rain is much needed, both for replenishing the dwindling water table and for its cooling effect, it is getting a bit annoying now.

I waited this morning for the rain to stop so I could scooter myself to work. After a 10 minute lull in the downpour, I reasoned I could safely journey for 10 minutes to work. Obviously, if I am writing about this event, I was wrong.

About a minute after I left, the rain was coming again. About half way through my trip, it was falling hard. I arrived at work drenched -- literally dripping wet (though my face and hair were spared thanks to the helmet).

Normally, this would not have been too big of a deal. I could have waited for my clothes to dry or put on scrubs. But my oozing water today was a problem. See, I had a press conference to attend as a part of this Indo-American collaborative health work I am doing. So I dressed semi nicely. And we were scheduled to leave for the conference about an hour after I arrived to work.

Going back home was not really an option either because the second journey was just as likely to leave me wet as the first. So, I did what all wet Indians do -- stood in front of a fan.

Ten minutes later, I realized wet Indians typically stay wet for a while. Certainly longer than the roughly 40 minutes I had remaining to dry myself.

I went asking around if anybody had spare clothes, but no luck there. Finally, somebody suggested I run up to housekeeping and have my clothes ironed. Now that seemed like a reasonable idea...

I ran (and slipped several times) up to the fourth floor where housekeeping has their office. I was given an iron and a table by an incredibly nice lady, who then asked if I knew how to iron. Of course, I said, who doesn't? Little did she know that I have probably ironed a total of 10 times in my life -- never successfully.

Even better, the iron and the table were in a room located off of one of the main passageways of the fourth floor with large, uncovered windows. Everybody from housekeeping staff, physicians, nurses, dieticians, and patients roamed those halls with what seemed to be reckless abandon. This was a problem (I thought) because I had no clothes other than those that were wet and on my body. But the lady assured me that "we are all brothers and sisters here." Translation: stop wasting time and dry your clothes. She even offered me coffee, which I accepted, to smooth the transition.

So I stripped down to my boxers and started ironing. First my shirt. I had no idea what I was doing, but I saw the water turn to steam and leave my shirt and slowly even some of the wrinkles disappeared! The pants weren't nearly as wet. The best part was that nobody seemed bothered by this! All of the patients, physicians, nurses, housekeepers, etc., were completely indifferent to the fact that I was standing nearly naked in a room and ironing my clothes. While I was expecting some sort of spectacular ridicule, all I got was people going about their regular jobs.

In summary, I love India.

By the way, pictures from Hyderabad, Ahmedabad, and Bombay to follow soon.

hyderabad

2009-10-28T20:11:00.002+05:30

An interesting city -- it was less developed than I anticipated seeing how it's dubbed the infrastructurally-sound-Bangalore. It seemed as if all parts of the city were under construction, with rocks and rubble everywhere and no end in sight. Traffic was atrocious, road quality was poor. (But the airport is great!) I think in some ways Chennai is a bit anomalous in terms of its infrastructure compared to the other "metro" Indian cities (except Delhi). It was nice to again be in a place where the general populace speaks Hindi/Urdu. The language convenience came in handy when I left my phone on the bus this morning and subsequently had to track it down.

The most fascinating part of Hyderabad was undeniably the old city. I do not think I have ever been in a place with so many Muslims packed with such high density into a relatively small area; couple that with the bustle of everyday old city India, the cultural expose that is uniquely Hyderabad but clearly discernible in every individual's action, the noises, smells, sights, monuments - it was breathtaking. The weather was great too! Very conducive for photography - will post pictures soon.

I must say that I had biryani twice today (the second at a supposedly well-known place called Bawarchi) and while it was excellent both times, it was still very comparable to biryani I get in Chennai. Maybe vegetarian biryani does not have the elusive flavor found only in Hyderabad...

Only 2 glasses of fresh sweet lime juice today.

Off to Bombay now, then Ahmedabad in a few days.

sweet limes

2009-10-27T00:49:00.004+05:30

I am now an addict of this fruit, called sweet lime in English (mousami or mousambi in Hindi). I had never heard of it before visiting southern India, but now that I have tried it, I will try my best to import seeds to plant when I return. It tastes like a cross between an orange and a not-so-tart (but very sweet) lemon. They have fresh juice stands everywhere in the city, which makes consuming the juice of 20 Florida-orange-sized mousamis way too easy.

bribed

2009-10-25T18:01:00.003+05:30

Just paid my first bribe for this trip. One of the main thoroughfares of Chennai, Anna Salai (or Mount Road), has one segment where there are actual lane markings dividing the road into three sections. The very left lane is for buses, the next lane for cars, and the rightmost lane for auto-rickshaws and 2 wheelers (keep in mind we drive on the left). I was riding home -- scooter brimming with bags from a days worth of shopping -- when a policeman pointed motioned at me to pull over. In proficient English (of the Indian variety) he told me that I was driving in the bus lane. He asked for my license, which of course I said I did not have on me at the moment. Then he said that the fine for not carrying your license is 550 Rupees. It was nice that he cut to the chase for me, without making me ask him how much it would take for him to let me go. I always feel guilty when I have to initiate the bribe discussions. Negotiations ensued (ie. I reached into my pocket and said this is what I have) - I drove away after giving him 200 Rupees. Had I actually had a license, I would have asked for him to write me a ticket with a receipt. But I could not because I do not have a license, which means technically he can take my scooter away. My fault for not having a license, but the bureaucratic struggle to get one made is ridiculous. But, I did learn not to drive in the bus lane on that one stretch of Anna Salai. Isn't that the aim of the ticket/citation system anyway? Like many things in India, dysfunctionally functional.

Diwali, Bhai Dooj 2009

2009-10-22T12:45:00.002+05:30

Some pictures from Diwali and Bhai Dooj in Jaipur.

Diwali 2009

Lady Ballers

2009-09-22T12:28:00.002+05:30

There are signs plastered throughout Chennai announcing that the FIBA Asian Women's Qualifiers are going on here now -- I think the winners go on to the FIBA international tournament. Being the basketball enthusiast that I am, I decided to check out what all the signs were about. At Nehru Indoor Stadium, I first saw the Thai beat the Indians by a narrow margin. The quality of basketball from both teams was abysmal, but I guess it's a start given that I never knew that Indian women sported a national basketball team. The tallest girl on the Indian team was maybe 6''1'. The second game was Taiwan vs. China -- much more legitimate basketball. The Chinese are actually pretty good, and after a while, their defense picked up and smothered the Taiwanese. All in all, unique international basketball exposure for a city and country where basketball is just beginning to gain popularity.

haircut and massage

2009-09-18T13:31:00.002+05:30

I had my first haircut in India yesterday evening. Though the barber was incredibly meticulous and courteous, I for some reason think I suddenly look considerably more 'Indian' than I did yesterday at this time. Considering I paid 330 Rupees (<$7) for the haircut AND a 20 minute back and neck message, I cannot complain. I will not post any pictures of myself for the next two weeks, however.

Five Years After the Tsunami

2009-09-14T12:24:00.010+05:30

A couple of colleagues (auditors, officially) from the International Diabetes Federation headquarters in Brussels were in town the past week evaluating one of our intervention studies. Yesterday (Sunday 9/13/09) they had some down time, so they planned a quick trip to nearby Mahabalipuram and invited me to join. Of course, I could not resist the chance to see a new place - even a place with more South Indian temples (I think I have seen enough temples for the next few months). It is also unreasonably warm during the day, which I am told is due to lack of rain over the past two weeks. In case you did not know (I did not), during these 3 or 4 "winter" months it rains intermittently, which helps to cool the temperature. But we don't have winter here. We have only three seasons: hot, hotter, and hottest. I think right now we're straddling the fence between hot and hotter. Can't wait for hottest! Anyway, I will let the temple pictures from Mahabalipuram speak for themselves. Clearly, they are seaside temples, which is neat. I don't remember the significance of them now. The pictured boulder was a nifty addition to the otherwise ho-hum temple tour.

What was more interesting for me and made the trip worthwhile (in addition to the good company) was the chance to travel down the East Coast Road which leads from Chennai to Pondicherry. Our driver's (his name is Gopi) wife comes from the coastal areas along this road -- areas that were ravaged by the tsunami in December of 2004. Gopi us to stop by these areas and to look for ourselves at what was happening. These images are of the old, seaside homes that were occupied before the tsunami. I think you can get an idea from the images of the extent of the damage and also the size of the former homes (compared to the new homes in forthcoming images).

Gopi said 10 years ago he was married here.

The next images show where Gopi's wife's family is currently living, almost 5 years after the tsunami. The tenements are unbelievably small, overcrowded, and inadequate. There is no running water (yet no odd smells surprisingly). As in all of India, everybody seems to have a television and cable connection, as well as a cellphone. Our hosts even managed to procure and offer us a cold Pepsi (which we all declined) -- Indians are generally quite hospitable. One ceiling fan hangs from the rafter of the hut I visited; I nearly received a free haircut courtesy of the fan. I can send you the picture if you're interested.

Finally, these last images are of the new, government-constructed homes being built just down the road (but further inland) from the site of the original homes. The homes are given at no cost (well, at least no direct cost) to the tsunami victims. The buildings are split-level, in that an entire family (regardless of number of members) gets either the upper portion or the lower portion of one free-standing building. The actual size of the home is quite small. From the last picture, you can see the main room. To the right of the main room are two rooms: a kitchen and bedroom. Straight ahead is one small bathroom. That's it.

I am not sure what to make of this. Why did it take so long to construct these? Why such small homes? But I guess permanent housing is better than the huts that are currently serving as home, right? India is not so wealthy as to be able to construct haphazardly without first tendering contracts, finding the cheapest builder with reasonable quality standards. Nor are they efficient enough to push promises such as free housing to victims of natural disasters through the bureaucracy quickly. There are also whispers of pilfering at multiple levels (both public and private) and shoddy workmanship, accounting for smaller sizes and poor-quality homes. Transparency in Indian state-level bureaucracy is a real issue. But supposedly, it's getting better. On the flip side, all-in-all, the Indians handled the tsunami and its aftermath considerably better than the Americans handled Katrina and its aftermath. Having visited New Orleans only months ago, many homes in the city remain in disarray with many residents having yet to return to the city. In that light, maybe 5 years to get a new home is not so bad

One final thought... I would blog more often if it did not take so long. Any tips on how to speed the process along?

My Love for Northern India

2009-09-09T12:20:00.006+05:30

A few pictures from the past week in Delhi and Jaipur. Places pictured include the Red Fort, Jama Masjid, Lotus Temple, Akshardham Temple (all in Delhi) and Amber Fort, Birla Mandir, and Hawa Mahal (in Jaipur).

Medical need -- Indian style

2009-09-02T09:53:00.000+05:30

I was just commenting last night to a friend that there is a significant amount of organization within what seems to be a lot of superficial disorganization in India. Here is one example.

I was on my way to work, having negotiated by pantomime and broken English my standard 50 Rupee rate . I find that speaking broken English to Indians who don't really speak English is much more effective than speaking actual English. (I am still taking auto-rickshaws everywhere, as I have yet to procure a bright red scooter to match my frames.) Anyhow, we were on our way as usual when I heard the shriek of a female voice bellow from a car stopped in the middle of the road. Somehow, I have become immune to most unnatural noises after coming to India, so I did not really think twice about the noise. Fortunately, my auto driver had enough of a sense of civic duty to pull over. Looking in the direction of the now calamity (Indians love to congregate around just about anything), I realized that this was not a simple fender-bender or petty dispute. My auto driver and I ran over to see what was happening. When I approached the driver of the stalled car, I saw he was foaming at the mouth, occasionally jerking and twitching. His eyes were partly opened and he was not responsive. He was breathing without problem and his pulse was fast, but regular. It seemed like a tonic-clonic seizure of some sort. Knowing that the gentleman in the driver's seat may be epileptic and may carry an injectable seizure-breaker (not unheard of in the developing world), I asked (again in broken English) if there were any family members around? I was pointed in the direction of a young girl, I would guess 16 years old, with distinctly non-Indian English. I asked her if the affected man (her father I found out) had a known disorder. He had had something similar long ago, she said.

At this point I asked if anybody had called for an ambulance. That question was met with blank stares from everybody around. I could not be sure if people did not understand me (ambulance is commonly understood in India once you add the Indian accent to the word) or if nobody had thought to do so. Previously, I have been quite vocal about my disinterest for learning Tamil, but tor the first time, I really wanted to be able to speak Tamil. I wanted to pick up my cell phone and call 911 and be assured that an ambulance was on its way. No luck. I recruited the daughter, who speaks English like me and also Tamil, to translate. She told me that nobody knows the number of a hospital, but that the rickshaw drivers were telling her there was a hospital nearby. I then realized that there probably was no single number one could dial to get an ambulance in Chennai. The father had since bitten his tongue, causing him to bleed from his mouth and causing people to become more and more aware and disturbed by this. I explained to the daughter this happens frequently during a seizure and that she need not worry. During this time my auto driver was on the phone as well, though I am not sure who he was calling and what he was saying.

In all of this, I realized I was fairly helpless. The patient was upright, his head against the headrest -- I did what I could to position him to prevent aspiration. He was breathing, though gasping at times. Aside from this, without phenytoin or benzos or phenobarb, I was fairly useless. I instructed the girl that her father would likely be fine (to calm her primarily but also quite likely), but that she needed to speak Tamil to someone who could figure out how to get him to a hospital. She asked if I could drive her father's car there because she did not know how to drive. I declined because I did not know where the hospital was, did not consider myself adept at driving in India, and was not good at driving manual transmission cars. For some reason, the auto drivers were also reluctant to put him in an auto and take him to a hospital.

While all this was going on, traffic behind the scene was amassing. People were becoming angry, honking horns and instructing the bystanders to move the car to the left side of the road. At this point, I saw one policeman walk (at an incredibly leisurely pace) toward the scene. He had with him a walkie-talkie, but nothing else. I had decided for myself that there was nothing more that I could do; since then, I have continued to ask myself what more I could have done? Perhaps hire an auto to transport the man to a hospital? Perhaps drive the car myself? But these are all things the daughter could do as well as I (and probably better). Having decided that I was now contributing to the hysteria instead of actually helping the man's cause, I left the scene and headed to work.

On the way to work, I took a chance and asked the auto driver if he spoke Hindi. I had seen earlier that he had a Muslim nametag, and many Muslims are at least conversant in Hindi. It turns out he spoke Hindi well enough for us to have a conversation. He told me auto drivers are reluctant to transport people in these situations, but he could not communicate why this is so well enough for me to understand him. He confirmed that there is no single number to dial for an emergency in Chennai, and I think he said he had called the police (which may explain why the policeman showed up with his walkie-talkie in hand). When I told my cousin this story later, she confirmed that there is no number to dial for medical emergencies in Chennai, adding that I should carry around the number of several hospitals in my phone in case I should ever need them. Apparently, each hospital sends its own ambulance.

As we parted ways, I thanked my auto driver for stopping and trying to help; he relayed that it was the best he could do. I think in spite of the abounding disorganization and my inability to communicate, I do take heart in the fact that people like the auto driver and others stopped to help (admittedly, some stopped to observe only). When the seizing father finally got to a hospital, it was mostly because of the goodwill of people like the auto driver. In some ways, that is what India is about. The facilities exist; it's only a matter of knowing how to take advantage of them amidst the seemingly abundant chaos. For instance, had I had a hospital's phone number on me, I would imagine that the lack of organization would have quickly turned into some semblance of organization, with an ambulance taking the patient to a well-equipped hospital with many incredibly smart physicians to treat him. Again, the resources are there (at least for those who can afford them), but much can be done to organize and streamline the public's ability to use these resources. I hope things improve soon.