Thursday, May 3
What an amazing chaos there is here. First thing that comes to mind is the driving, which is a wonder. On a three lane road, there are as many vehicles abreast as will fit - and that may be 5 or 6. Horns are constantly honking, but it's not an angry honk. It's like a proximity sensor - you're coming near me, or I'm coming near you, watch out.
There were times when I believe I could rest the base of my palm on our car and my fingertips could have touched the car alongside - 6 inches?
I've seen on hundreds of vehicles a cryptic message - We two, ours 1 - which I now think must be the slogan for one-child families, to reduce the population.
All the streets are dirty and debris is everywhere. But no one sees it. There are some sweeper women who seem to be piling things up with rough-looking stick brooms, and shop boys sweep in front of stores, but the mounds of broken and windblown debris are everywhere. No one seems to care. I think I'm starting to not notice.
Women ride side-saddle on the back of their husband's motorcycle. Sometimes between the husband and the wife is a small child. Sometimes another small child rides in front of dad - four on a motorcycle! And mom, perched on a few inches of seat at the back, seems very nonchalantly holding on. (The other day I saw the record so far - five on a motorcycle - with the kid squished in the middle fast asleep.)
All the saris and "pant suits" that the women wear are spotless and brightly colored. I wonder how they can keep their outfits so clean and fresh looking when they travel through so much dust and dirt and debris all the time. But they do. The men too look pretty fresh.
Smells are everywhere. I can't identify the chief smell, probably curry, but it seems to be getting into my pores. One of the chief things one notices about a new place, a science fiction writer once noted, was the smell of a place. Strong and overpowering when you first arrive, invisible after you've been in the place for a while.
The first few days were a tough struggle as the software didn't cooperate and things crashed often. Today was much better. Things seemed to work nearly right the whole day.
Went "shopping" this evening to places, first, that my driver, Lingesan, took me. These places must offer kickbacks to drivers, but I admit the items were beautiful. An emerald and gold tennis bracelet was about $2300, if I remember right. Probably worth it, but way out of my budget. Unfortunately the salesmen were very aggressive and used every trick they could think of to try to get me to linger longer and buy something. I finally had to be a bit rude and essentially walk out on them. I'm assuming they've recovered from my slight insult, if they even noticed. In fact I took the hook on a cashmere scarf that looked beautiful and seemed reasonable, though on the high side of the budget, too. I think Barb will like it. It's really gorgeous. Have to look for other gifts when I can.
Also went to the Center City Mall, and felt like I was in America, but without the air conditioning. A lot of the same stores and brands as in American malls were there. I even found a Subway restaurant and bought a sandwich. But instead of anything with beef there was lamb. Tasted good just to have the bread. Also bought baby powder - hope that helps me feel cooler. But I had to get out of there. I can go to malls plenty when i'm back in the states. Don't need to go to America when I'm halfway around the world.
There are times and moments when I feel the jet lag is behind me, and then there are times when it feels like it's still here. My stomach was bad this morning, but Pepto seems to have quieted it and I felt hungry in the afternoon. Perhaps that's all behind me now, you should pardon the expression.
Need to get some rest. Fading fast, eyes tired, even though it's only 7:30.
Thinking back, I wonder if I should have haggled on the scarf. Who knows?
And I tipped the driver for his extra trouble today - 250 rupees - about $6. I think God was saying that was the right amount, but it seems to my head to have been too little. We'll see.
Driver was campaigning to take me and the others on a sightseeing tour of the city on Saturday. He's bringing a book of some sort to explain the highlights. I guess I can't begrudge him his trying to make a sale, but I do wish people would give it a rest once in a while.
We've noticed how many people there are here to serve us. I've never been called Sir so much in my entire life. But as Peter noted, labor is cheap. I suspect all these people are thrilled to be working at all and are sort of hoping for a little tip from the rich American. I'd like to give them something, but truth is, I rarely realize it's a tipping situation, then I'm not sure what to give. Of course, I'm also too cheap, but that's for another day.
Well, to rest.
Saturday, May 5.
Driver took me on a city tour today. As we drove along he pointed out the various buildings of big companies or government places. Ho hum.
We first went to the Saint Thomas basilica, where the Apostle Thomas is supposedly buried. They make you take off your shoes to walk barefoot to the burial chamber (marble floors). the little chapel there has "Silence Please" signs up. I tried to be reverent, but I know that even if Thomas' bones are there, he isn't. He's happily spending time in heaven with the rest of the saints. I tried to be serious anyway, thanking God for Thomas, and, if he did indeed evangelize India, for evangelizing there. The main church is like many very big Catholic churches, laid out like a cross. Yet it looked Indian, too - the art work on the walls maybe. I did see one man sitting on the floor, either polishing the wooden benches or praying.
We next went to the beach, which several people have reminded me is the 2nd longest beach in the world. It's very broad, but seems to slope steeply into the ocean. The sand had a brown tint to it and was filled with paper and garbage bits. Down the beach a little ways was a fisherman "village". Dozens of little boats consisting of 8 or 10 logs strapped together, a mini-city of one room thatched shacks pieced together from sticks and covered over with scraps of cloth and whatnot, and on the curb, the wives selling the day's catch - a few dozen small fish. I can't imagine who buys these. Perhaps they sell the bigger fish to restaurants or stores.
We turned down one street for a little shortcut. It was a one lane road crowded with people and homes. At one point we had to back up to let a mini-truck pass. The people are very poor, my driver said, and that was obvious. Some "houses" were four poles covered with whatever cloths or sheets of plastic had blown by. Don't know how anyone can live that way and not go crazy, but i guess it's all they've ever known. How do they fall in love and marry? What does the groom promise the bride? what does the bride look forward to when the babies start to come? Is she happy or afraid?
At one point a young woman with a baby on her hip approached our car, holding out her hand, obviously begging for something, anything. I don't believe I've ever seen a more "poor" looking person. To my embarassment, I resisted giving her anything - my Western resistance to beggars kicking in unreasonably, but then felt doubly ashamed when my driver, not a rich man, reached in his pocket and gave her some money. I still hesitated, and then our car moved, the woman swirled back into the crowd and the moment was gone. I suppose I will never forget her and will always regret my hard-heartedness at that moment.
We drove then past some government official's place, just after an official caravan had gone through. Lots of police or people in uniform. Even saw what was apparently the bomb squad with a dog.
Got to the museum. The driver asked to go in with me - I think partly to get in from the heat. It cost 250 rps for me - only 15 rps for him. I also had to pay 200 rps to take in my disposal camera. The driver laughed that that was more than the camera cost.
I also had to fill in this paper form with my name and address, passport number and phone number. What ever for? I am sure the little bureaucrat who originally decided that was important was an idiot. My paper now sits gathering mold (too humid for dust) in a little file cabinet somewhere, never to again see the light of day.
The museum has several parts, but the only mildly interesting ones were the bronze statues of the various Hindu gods, and the stone carvings of the same thing. I was very sad to read the material posted about the statues and realize how Satan had duped so many people into wasting so much time to go into incredibly detailed descriptions of what these gods and goddesses supposedly did. For the statues I read that if this one goddess was standing on her left foot, that meant one thing, if on her right foot, something else. And people have reverently handed down and even embellished all these horrible stories for literally centuries.
I bought a book on my way (it smells like curry, by the way) and had a bit of confusion over the price. It was 115 rps, I paid 120 and the clerk just looked at me. Did I owe more? No. Turned out he simply had not the slightest intention of trying to go somewhere to get change for me. (And how come I didn't know that?)
The humidity was sucking the life out of me, so I told the drive to head back, but first we'd go to a Hindu temple - the kind that has the layers and layers of little characters carved into the front wall.
I took a few obligatory pictures (the driver called them "snaps"), went into a nearby gift shop and got a small figurine. I think the driver fussed a bit when they didn't wrap it nicely for me, but the proprietor didn't care. He seemed to be saying to my driver- "stick it. This purchase isn't worth my time."
All in all, we must have traveled down a hundred different streets - a route that I don't think even the driver himself could duplicate. He kept pointing out buildings, shopping areas, blah, blah. I was wiped and we went home.
May 8
This has been an incredible journey so far. Last night we walked for about a half an hour looking for a particular Italian restaurant. The weather was very muggy and the traffic was very busy - I was astonished it was so busy at 7:30 or 8 at night. We finally gave up on the search, took a three-wheeled cab back to the hotel and ate across the street at a Tex-Mex restaurant.
I still feel like everything smells like curry. I am also beginning to resent having to "be a good guest" at the expense of surrendering what I really like or want. I want to respect my hosts, but it bothers me that there are so many people who are in a subservient role, treated poorly but expecting nothing else. Everyone should be respected with common respect and courtesy and as an equal, not a servant. Alas, that's a pretty big windmill to tilt at. I guess I just don't want to feel like I have to apologize for not wanting everything to always be spicy, or spiced with curry. Or just wanting to relax. Or just wanting to enjoy air conditioning.
Well, all for now. More later.
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