Beggars' Banquet, Tamil Mass, and Babu

I really wasn’t expecting this much excitement. I didn’t include it in the last post, because of the topics of immediate importance (read: Bum Showers), but during our outing yesterday, we came across one good reason NOT to have traffic lights in Hyderabad – beggars. Here is the beggar carrying an infant around who had been incessantly tapping on our window until she determined we weren’t going to give in and immediately turned around to the car next to us and began tapping on their window. While I didn’t take a photo, we were accosted by a one-handed beggar outside of the Food World, right after we had been accosted by a marketing rep for a skin lightener product who was handing out free samples to Food World patrons who spent a certain amount of money. Like Deb NEEDS a skin lightener! I mean, we could see her when they turned the lights off during a Carlsbad Cavern tour we went on in New Mexico years ago.
We have been advised by locals and expats to buy cookies to take with us when we are out and about as the beggars won’t refuse anything you offer and are therefore obliged to go once you have given them something. These would be great rules for telemarketers as well.
Deb suggested and rightly so that all Christian churches look alike to other religions and could we distinguish between one Hindu temple and another along our drive route or could we tell a Sunni from a Shia or Sufi mosque? This morning we got our 4:45am wake-up call to get ready for our ride to church. We thought we had identified an English mass at 6am at a church (St. Mary’s) in Secunderabad, but when our driver took us to a Methodist church, saying “they have English at 6am”, we opted for the Tamil mass at St Mary’s even though information in the hotel’s brochure said English at 6. OK, the photo of St. Mary's is a stock photo from their website. Come on! It was 6am and pouring rain when we got there. The big Pieta in the courtyard was pretty impressive. The mass really wasn’t pure Tamil. It’s like Tagalog in the Philippines is spoken as “Taglish” which is a mix of English and Tagalog, this was “Tamlish”. The priest’s homily wove in and out of Tamil so you had to listen very closely to catch when he would start making a point in English with his very heavy accent and when he was speaking (and gesticulating) in Tamil. He was making a point which ironically I heard on Friday evening at an expat event. A social worker on Friday observed that any caste higher than a Dalit looks down on the castes below them with some degree of disdain. The priest suggested that one cannot say they are devout in their faith if they do not look out for those less fortunate then themselves, so live the faith through Christian love sic (agape). Interestingly the “sign of peace” (which is a handshake most everywhere), is akin to the Hindu and Buddhist greeting of a slight bow with hands pressed prayerfully together. Kind of like the integration of the Christmas tree and Easter egg.
But the REAL excitement, heralded by a letter from the Novotel management under our door early this morning was that there would be celebrities at the Convention Center and to expect throngs of fans between 10 am and 4 pm today. When we were arriving back from mass, there were people already queuing up outside the security gate. Who, you might ask, would that celebrity be? Why would they be in Hyderabad on a Sunday morning? Well, it was none other than A. R. Rahmon! Wait, YOU don’t recognize him? He’s a dual Oscar winner in 2008! Best musical score for a movie and best theme song. OK, not many people saw Slumdog Millionaire, but this is THE guy. And his fans were here, numbering in the thousands, for the unveiling of a new CD compilation from his latest film starring a local acting legend, S. Ramesh Babu. Babu has been acting for 28 years. He was doing Bollywood films before it was known as Bollywood. He is an action film guy, the Indian version of Sylvester Stallone in the Rambo movies.
Rahmon was in the hotel at a VIP suite. We were told his location by the hotel manager and concierge. We’re well-enough known by the hotel staff that we get some of the inside scoop on what’s happening. They also know we have been taken twice: once for a 450 Rs bottle of Evian water at our first dinner and 2000 Rs for the ride to church this morning. I actually thought the ride was well worth the money as our driver gave us a choice of churches, he drove us around the Hussain Sagar and through part of downtown Hyderabad (but not the old city), giving us virtually unintelligible running commentary like most guides on the NYC Gray Line tours.
But it appears that the crowds were sated by their celebrities' appearances as they go marching back to Hyderabad and all points around.

And so we will disperse as well for today.

Under the Banyan Tree

For any of those who were wondering why they haven’t actually seen me in any pictures, Deb took a couple of me on Saturday as we went walking around the grounds of the hotel and convention center. Here I am under a Banyan tree, you know, the one that the Buddha sat under to find his spiritual center. From the legend, he sat on one side at a time but when the world tipped he moved to another spot until he found his balance. Well, in the case of this particular Banyan tree, if I moved toward the camera, I would be likely to be hit by any number and types of vehicles. If I moved directly back, I would fall into the retaining pond that, from its effluence, told me that I would be in deep doo doo – literally. Off to the left of the photo, an Islamic school marching band was going through drills with all their parents all dressed in their white pajamas looked on. And so, where I was standing was the right place to be.
All righty then, I knew I forgot to tell you something special about our drive to the hotel from the airport the first night. Our driver, who was courteous and competent (great qualities for the job he was doing) asked us if we would like some music as we drove through the rain and gloom. Deb quickly spoke up, “that would be great, we’ll listen to whatever you like” (hoping that would keep him happy and focused on the obstacles ahead, which were many). Well, I know I was shocked when he turned on a station whose first song was a Muzak version of Brittany Spears’ “Oops, I did it again”. Now, this immediately created a flood of memories of the music the Gypsy violinist decided to play when I proposed to Deb in Budapest. He started playing “Somewhere over the rainbow”. I presumed it was the only American music he was familiar with, though I was anticipating a more traditional Hungarian or Romani tune. So you can appreciate my shock, once again, as we travel literally half way around the world to be introduced to the musical tastes of an indigent Hyderabadi -- and it’s a bad rendition of the Pop Tart’s banal second Top 40 hit.
It’s Saturday! Deb and I actually slept through the night, so, aside from it being “hotel, sweet home”, things must be synchronizing with our new time zone. We had a plan for today: exercise, lunch, and then go on a date. We had arranged for our driver, Ashraf, to pick us up and take us to the Cineplex in Banjara Hills, about 10 kilometers away. We had attempted to get an account from Cinemax to buy the tickets on-line, but the registration time was on IST (India Stretch Time) so that we didn’t have the password back before we had to leave. Our thinking: who in India would (1) be going to the cinema in the afternoon, and (2) what self-respecting Indian would prefer to watch an American action film with a fading lead actor when they could choose from about half a dozen Indian action films. Now, Bollywood has one of the largest studios in the world in Hyderabad. The set lots total several square miles and we’re planning a tour eventually. But I digress. “Knight and Day” was sold out. Fortunately our driver was still inching ahead to the parking deck as we started walking back trying to decide what we would do until he showed up. We caught him and after a quick stop at the Food World market, we drove back to the hotel, our date night thwarted.
What I REALLY wanted to talk about today is bum showers. No, this has nothing to do with some of the homeless guys in Penn Station attending to themselves in the NJT restrooms, though that is a story in itself. I’m referring to the personal hygiene regimen for which the Indians believe (1) they invented, and (2) is far superior to the Europeans (which includes the Western Hemisphere) using paper after toileting. Least you think I am suffering from heat stroke from our walk this morning, I offer the article that started our discussion. The editor is in a running argument with contributors, one from Japan, a country that also claims the invention, and a Pakistani who claims the invention was theirs after partition in 1947. The editor also says that the shower is a technological transfer of an ancient Indian practice for which he says was noted by such luminaries as Rudyard Kipling refer to in his writings for the benefit of a newbie coming to the Raj. I admit that I am firmly entrenched in the “European” camp, I have studied this alternative method, which is like a free-style bidet and I still am unclear as to the practical application as a Westerner. This may be one of the few items for which, even if adopted, I will probably not mention again.
I feel much more centered now. We’ll be getting up early tomorrow for our next adventure -- going to mass in the morning. We have a driver scheduled for 5:30am to go approximately 15 kilometers and be there for the 6am English mass. We’ll let you know how THAT goes.

Jake Giddes, Slap Me Silly

Over the past 25 years I have had the opportunity to visit a number of cities on every continent. The morning we arrived in Hyderabad, it was, in the classical noir genre term, “a dark and stormy night”. During the drive to the hotel, very little of the landscape was discernible, but I immediately recognized some of the characteristics I had seen in other cities. There was the haphazard architecture of existing neighborhood shops. There was evidence of demolition and rubble at each bend in the road. And then there were vehicles of all shapes and sizes in various states of repair that loomed in the shadowy edges of the headlight beams of our car as we wound our way over the irregular surfaces of the streets toward the hotel.
It wasn’t until Wednesday when Deb went to the office that the landscape fully presented itself. It was a moving sea of people, vehicles, and animals. But unlike the staged shots you get in National Geographic by very skilled photographers, you get the contextual view of that dichotomy of urban vitality spurred on by the economic growth in direct proximity to the abject poverty which is attracted to it and lives on any piece of space not occupied by something else. I could sense some apprehension in Deb as we rode to the office. But the sounds and motion of the traffic that surrounds you keeps some of the focus off the squatters’ tent cities in the open spaces that come right up to the edge of the road. The occupants literally have to watch for traffic as the crawl out of their makeshift abodes. But what always fascinate me are the entrepreneurs who serve these communities. We don’t often see this in the US because our poor are (1) not poor by world standards, and (2) they are bifurcated into urban and rural pockets that we generally don’t visit – ever. Did you ever think about why the Southland Corporation is a quiet success story? Well, that’s another story, but vendors purposefully come to serve these communities. Most of their stores are as rustic as the homes of their customers. They poach electricity if they can so that a string of discarded lights becomes a beacon for the customers who may be coming home with a few rupees he or she earned that day.

I am not disheartened by this. The people, animals, and various means of transportation are part of the fabric that holds the world's largest democracy together. What I think is amazing is the amount of energy people put into their politics. The local papers devote pages to the upcoming elections. One politician, the son of a local political legend, is starting his campaign and the coverage is just about as much as the local cricket team -- and THAT is saying a lot.

Day Two -- Part Two

This was D-Day which is to say Deb got to the office. Did I mention that we're surrounded by new construction as far as the eye can see? Well, if you look closely, there are cows in a small paddock just about a hundred meters from our hotel window. These are probably the lucky ones. The drive through Madhapur to the office in the daylight is, literally, enlightening. If you go on YouTube and type in Hyderabad traffic, there are some good examples of what it looks like, but really experiencing it on the ground is exhilerating, to say the least.
And the fellow who navigated the craziness is standing with Deb outside Novartis' building in HiTec City. You probably can't see it, but he is "wired" with a radio that all the hotel staff wear. He is a cool and skilled driver. You must have to develop a sense of when to stop and go since there are almost no traffic lights. We actually saw one last evening as we were going to dinner. It was an experiment by the city to relieve gridlock that happens at rush hour(s). In the next few posts I will give you a sense of the sights and happenings along the drive to Deb's office.

Day Two

Don’t expect to see “Day 172” or such as I am not a diarist. Deb is going to the office today. I will accompany her to see where she’s working and get a lay of the land in Hi Tec City, so to speak. I have a checklist of things to get done for today, but I am committed not to get stressed out if they don’t get done as I get accustom to IST. Fortunately our residency with the India FRO (not to be confused with any Tolkien character but the Foreign Registration Office which is part of the regional police office) is arranged through Deb’s office. I’m also on a quest for cell phones to use locally. All the literature says that foreign visitors need special permission to get cells and you are required to give them a passport photo and the letter from the FRO.
We’re off to exercise today in the hotel gym/spa. We’re committed to getting a regular routine as soon as possible to get past the fuzziness of the past three days. I’ve added some additional photos of the hotel and the little things that make you aware that you’re not at a Quality or Comfort Inn in Ohio.
One of the most not striking things you notice is the amount of building going on. From any window in the hotel you see high rises going up. The entire landscape is literally being reshaped. But within that booming, there is still the natural greenery and flowers that you would expect from a sub-equatorial climate. And also something I’ve come to expect is the floral decoration like the floating petals arranged on a platter in an out-of-the-way corridor.

This is the happenin’ place with the Hyderabad convention center. Interestingly, the dining room does change the menu around to offer more pan-Asian items as the convention has a large Japanese contingent. Well, if this isn’t another ‘duh’ moment. Geological issues – Japan – it’s as obvious as a Godzilla movie. We’re talkin’ the guy in the rubber suit Godzilla with Raymond Burr as the over-weight American scientist who is horrified by the awakening of Godzilla.


Today has been our first experience with intermittent power disruptions which started early this morning and continued on until about 9am. Then the internet slowed to a crawl. We can’t be on at the same time because THAT blows the hotel server’s little mind. But this will not deter us! If it’s starting to sound like whining, I’ll end for now. Whaaaaaaaaaaa!

Day One

When we finally got up, here's a scene from our hotel window. It could be anywhere in Southeast Asia, but it's our home away from home. There's a large Asian Geo science event happening at the conference center connected to the hotel, so there are hundreds of earth science geeks from all around the area. So the hotel is booked solid.

Here are some shots of the lobby and other areas of the hotel. More to come tomorrow.

The Journey Begins

We got to the airport easily as just about everyone was where they wanted to be or had to be on the 4th. We had the good fortune to spend time in the SAS/Lufthansa lounge. Deb felt very comfortable there as every female who was not wait staff in the lounge had blond hair and blue eyes. The people even approached her and spoke to her in Swedish or German.

Lufthansa still has some amenities that weren’t eliminated during the last run up of fuel prices. While airline cuisine has not changed, the airline has spent more on the menus which all sound like you are going to have a meal equal to any five star restaurants. Well, they try, I’ll give them that.
I’m going to go to bed now. We’ll start up again while we wait for our plane in Frankfurt. Good night!

If it's Monday morning, it must be Frankfurt! OK, another Lufthansa lounge, another day of living the IKEA life. If anyone thinks Danish modern has gone out of fashion, well, think again. Blond wood, blond chairs, maybe a pop of color on the walls, but overall, ya know you're in Europe. A quick shower and we're off again. As we walked to the gate, it was another "duh" moment because the gate was on the ground floor. This could only mean one thing: tarmac or bus ride. Well it WAS a bus ride, standing as strap hangers as there were no seats and with about half the city of Hyderabad on board with us sweating in what the Germans must consider good air conditioning. Now, we were going on an Airbus A320. Not the biggest in their fleet now, but pretty damn big. As we got off the bus, there were the stairs. A good, long flight of stairs up to the plane. There were two types of stairs: one with and one without a cover. Deb's quick thinking: head for the one with a cover. It probably means something better than the one without one and 150 people standing in the hot sun waiting to get in.

Deb is comfortably set in her seat. You will note from the next shot of Deb that we made it to Hyderabad at midnight. It was pouring rain. Well, duh, it IS monsoon. While I didn't get it in the photo, Deb was being supported by two porters as we waited for our driver to get there.

Now the driver brought a small car to pick us up. There was luggage weighing down the car so the tires were rubbing on the wheel wells. Going over speed bumps was a major effort and when he put on the air conditioning, the car couldn't go any faster than 20 miles per hour. We got to the hotel around 1:30 am. The car was screened before we could enter the hotel area. All our luggage had to go through screening and we had to go through metal detectors before entering the lobby. By now, we're exhausted. We had all we could do just to find jammies and, of course, check e-mail.