Kevin from 55407

The End

2011-03-13T21:37:00.001+05:30

I'm sitting in BLR airport for what I suspect is the very last time. Or, if not the very last time, then at least the last for a very long time. My India adventure is over. And with this, I can clearly mark the closing of a chapter in my life. I know that's a Hallmark Card kind of thing to say, but in this case I think sentiment is actually appropriate.

These last two years have been an adventure. I've seen and done some truly amazing stuff. I've also seen and done some really horrible stuff. I don't think I ever really learned how to live in India comfortably. But I did learn how to get by in India, and that was no easy feat.

In retrospect, I have very few regrets. I wish I had tried to make a few more friends while I was here. I wish I had taken more photos and blogged more, so it will be easier to remember when I look back. Oh, and I wish I hadn't put my hand through that damned patio door.

On the flip side, I have tons for which I'm thankful. I got to experience something that few people ever do; to live in a foreign culture long enough that it no longer feels foreign (or at least entirely foreign). I traveled to a HUGE slice of the world (final count: 29 countries in 27 months). I met some people that I will think fondly of for the rest of my life. And, I learned more about the things that make me happy personally, and the things that make me crazy.

I'm going to spend the next three weeks in Europe doing some resting and traveling, in that order. And after that, when I arrive back in MPLS, I'll start a job that I'm really excited about. Beyond that, I don't really know what the future holds... Will I fall in love with MPLS and stay there? Will I be able to finagle another international assignment with my current employer? Or, will there be something else, someplace else, working for someone else? I don't know... But what I do know, is despite all the variables and unknowns, I'm looking forward to the next adventure, whatever it may be.

Cheers.

Back Again

2011-01-23T21:06:00.002+05:30

Seven days from now I'll be landing in MSP for my last business trip. As always, my trip to MSP will also include side trips; this time I'm headed to WI to see my family and Los Angeles to see a friend. Unfortunately, I will not be stopping anywhere in Europe along the way, which makes me sad. But, since I've been to Europe three times in the last two years, I should probably stop complaining and just remind myself how lucky I am.

During this trip, I'm hoping I'll be offered a job for my post-India life. I've been talking to my boss(es) about possible jobs for the last few months, but talking and doing are different things. It will be nice to have the "what will I be doing" mystery resolved so I can find other more interesting things to obsess about.

While my trip is work focused, I'll also be spending a fair amount of time squaring personal details. In particular, I need to find an apartment. I won't be able to actually rent one while I'm back, since my repatriation isn't until May. But, I should be able to get a sense of buildings, locations etc. There is a long list of amenities I'd really like in a potential apartment, and I have a few specific neighborhoods in mind. But finding the place I want at a price I want to pay may be a bit of a challenge. In the end, I'll probably just end up renting whatever is easiest.

Truth be told, I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of living in the US again. Some days I can't wait to be back. And some days I spend hours staring at my map and researching new cities in which I might live. But for now anyway, my plan is to just let inertia carry me and see what happens.

Slice of Life #15: The Butt Hose

2011-01-18T21:25:00.003+05:30

OK... Based on the name "Butt Hose" and its proximity to the toilet, I'm assuming you can suss out what this item is for... And that's good, because I have no intention of explaining it in detail.

But what I will say is this: 1) I have never used a Butt Hose, and god willing, I never will. 2) It is apparently impossible to use a Butt Hose without spraying water everywhere. 3) That's nasty. 4) I know this will offend at least one billion people, because Butt Hoses are used all over S.E. Asia, but I have absolutely no idea why a modern country (as defined by having indoor plumbing and porcelain toilets) would continue to use Butt Hoses. Stop the insanity!

There will be a lot of things I miss when I leave India. The Butt Hose will not be one of them.

Petra

2011-01-09T19:54:00.003+05:30

I'm back home now... I'm both relieved and sad.

Relieved because its always nice to be back at home, sleeping in my own bed, and not living out of a suitcase. Sad, because my trip to the middle east rocked. I was happy with every place I went, and ended the trip with a new desire to live in the middle east. You know, right after I live in Europe. And China. And Japan. And Singapore. And Morocco. And, you get the idea...

Not to be a total douche here, but I also came away with a greater appreciation for how badly American policies have screwed up the middle east. The population of Damascus has nearly doubled in the last few years, swelling to almost eight million as people flee from Iraq to Syria. Prices in Jordan (where Petra is located) are skyrocketing, such that the average citizen is now having a hard time paying for land and food and gas. And, you know, Lebanon has that whole Palestine thing going on. But despite that, everywhere I went, people were exceptionally friendly with me, and I walked away from the whole trip feeling like I know just a teeny bit more about the world. I swear... this is exactly why I love travel.

Anyhoo... Petra is, in a word, amazing. There is a reason why it's listed as one of the Seven Wonders of the World (thee of which I've now seen!). It was a little hard not to feel like Indiana Jones as I walked through the canyon to get to the first glimpse of the main site in Petra. I was most surprised by how large the monument actually is. But the best part of Petra is that it doesn't just end at the first site... I spent the whole day in the city, wandering around temples and ruins, and scrambling up mountains. And then I came back a second day, just to hang out some more.

I'm here to tell you right now... if the middle east isn't on your travel wish list, it should be.

Hurray

2010-12-30T23:58:00.002+05:30

I've arrived in Beirut, for the middle-third of my middle-east travel adventure. Despite the fact that it's pouring rain right now, I'm having a fantastic time.

The instant replay looks something like this...

I've only been in Beirut a few hours, but already I can tell that I will love the city. Think Paris, moved 3000 miles to the east, with more mosques, hookahs, falafel, and a Mediterranean Sea view to boot. Hurray for things that feel both familiar and unfamiliar!

Syria was amazing, and it seems sad to me (and to every Syrian I talked to) that more Americans don't go there. Damascus is far and away the most charming old school town I've been to in the middle east - think city walls, tiny alleys running helter skelter in all directions, and two-thousand-year-old charm everywhere you look. And the surrounding countryside has even more to offer, with mountains, castles, Roman ruins, camels, and Beduins. Hurray for a genuine travel adventure!

And lastly, it turns out that my passport worries were completely overblown. I have one more checkpoint to cross through before I'm totally in the clear, so I hope I'm not jinxing myself here... But, so far, things have been so hassle-free that I'm reasonably convinced I didn't need to bother getting my second passport in the first place. Hurray for over-preparedness!

The rain is abating, so I'm going to strike out now in search of a bar that has a free wifi connection. Hurray for dueling addictions!

...

Epilogue - when I said the rain is abating, in fact I meant the exact opposite. So now I'm soaked to the bone. But who cares... I'm in Beirut. Hurray for good times and bad judgement!

Travel Schmavel

2010-12-21T09:47:00.002+05:30

About a year ago, I made a decision to travel like a crazy person. I was living internationally for the first (but hopefully not last) time in my life, and had easy access to an entirely new swath of the planet. Travel to all of SE Asia was never going to easier. Thus, the Suicide Travel Plan was born.

Since then, I've been a ridiculous number of places... Japan. South Korea. Taiwan. China. Indonesia. Malaysia. Brunei. Thailand. Vietnam. Cambodia. Laos. Sri Lanka. The Maldives. Germany. France. Britain. Not to mention all over India.

That's a damn lotta travel. And it's not over yet. I'm headed to the middle east in two days, for a two week stint. I've got another trip planed to the US in February, which will include sub-trips to LA to see my oldest friend (known her for 94% of my life), Wisconsin to see my family, and hopefully another layover someplace in Europe. And I'm still planning on taking the entire month of April off to travel before I repatriate to the US in May.

And, smushed in between now and May and those other already-planned trips, I am hoping to squeeze in a few more destinations too. But, as much as I hate to admit this, I think I'm reaching capacity. I've been procrastinating all of my travel planning lately, instead choosing to just lay on the couch and read a book. So, even though there are a few more places I really want to go (Bali, Doha, Manila, Penang, Luang Prabang), I don't think I'm going to do any of them. At best, I might choose to go to a few repeat destinations that are easy to get to and provided guaranteed enjoyment.

Or, I may wind up just continuing my travels to the couch. Who knows...

In Transit... sort of

2010-12-13T00:02:00.004+05:30

I'm sitting at the MSP airport, waiting to board a flight to go home to India today. All signs look good, but yesterday was a bit of a trainwreck, so I'm not really sure what is going to happen... We'll see soon enough...

I've basically been in transit for the last few weeks, so I'm actually pretty hopeful that I will make it home. You know, it would be nice to wear something different for a change.

My adventures started three weeks ago in Paris. I took a long layover to see the city and hang out with a friend for a few days. It was fantastic. Paris is truly nothing short of fantastic. Charming city streets, amazing museums everywhere you look, good food and drink, and good looking well dressed people as far as the eye can see. This is my third trip to Paris, and even so I'm already thinking about going back again.

From Paris, I traveled on to MSP for a few weeks of working at the mothership. It's always nice to get back to the big bad HQ and see how things work in the big league. My trip, from a work perspective, was fairly uneventful. Though, I did get some additional information on my expected new job when my Indian odyssey ends. It was helpful to get the additional info. I'm still not sure that I really want to move back to MSP, but for now it is definitely Plan A.

My only weekend in the states was spent hanging out in NYC with my god daughter (and her family). I'm happy to report that my god daughter remains impossibly cute.

And then this weekend was spent trying to leave MSP. You may not have heard, but there was a freak show blizzard yesterday. I was worried that my flight would get canceled. But every time I checked, it was still on. So, I tried leaving the hotel to get to the airport. Turns out cab service wasn't available, which should have been a sign to me. But it wasn't. Yes, I know that makes me stupid. Anyway, I wound up bumming a ride to the airport with a college student. The combination of his driving and the HUGE number of accidents on the road nearly caused me to vomit. And then once I got to the airport, I discovered that all flights had been canceled. Yes, that's right... The Delta jerks canceled my flight in the one hour window between when I left the hotel and when I got to the airport. So then I took the train back downtown, because it was literally the only form of transportation left working. Except it stopped working six blocks from my stop, so I dragged my luggage through the snow drifts to the new hotel. Once my stroke passed, I took a nap, woke up, got drunk, and went to sleep again. Huzzah!

And that brings me to today. My flight still hasn't been called, but I'm going to mosey over to the gate anyway in the hope that positive thinking will help my odds. Wish me luck!

Slice of Life #14: A Something of Hawks

2010-11-21T19:37:00.003+05:30

I've gotten used to swarms since moving to India. Bees. Dragonflies. Lizards. Water Buffalo. In the last two years, not only have I seen more new animals than I ever thought possible, but I've also seen more animals in one place at one time than I thought possible.

For example, just today I spotted a whole bunch* of hawks circling outside my apartment. It's not uncommon for me to see (or more likely hear) a hawk or two. They are huge, and fearsome looking, and fly through the air shrieking the loudest bird scream imaginable. And when they are in the air, everything else lands.

But today there was something special going on, because there were dozens and dozens of them in the air, circling. It was pretty cool.

My favorite part of this photo is the pigeon hiding out on my terrace.

* I'm sure there must be a cool collective noun to refer to a bunch of hawks... a siege? an exaltation? a parliament? a convoy?

Blast Off

2010-11-19T09:48:00.005+05:30

So, I was in the shower this morning, and I hear this really loud racket that sounds like a spaceship blasting off. This is India, and I’ve gotten used to hearing weird sounds in the morning. Tornado sirens that go over every morning twice a morning. Super-loud hawks screaming in the air as they hunt. Religious music being blasted from the local temple. And from the local church. And from the local mosque. Dogs fighting. Cows mooing. You get the idea…

As such, I didn’t think much of this new noise. That is, until I walked into the kitchen. There, I found my fire extinguisher blasting a jet of foam onto the floor. Yep, my fire extinguisher went off for no reason at all this morning.

Best part of this story. I took the extinguisher down into the basement to give to one of the maintenance guys to get fixed. He told me that 1) it will take seven (7!) days to get refilled. Of course, that means fourteen days in real time. And 2) this happens nearly every day in somebody’s apartment somewhere in the building. He didn’t even bat an eye when I brought the extinguisher down to him.

Good times.

Vietnam and Cambodia

2010-11-12T09:34:00.006+05:30

I went to Vietnam and Cambodia last week... Long story short, it was fantastic.

My journey started in Hanoi, which now ranks as one of my favorite cities in SE Asia. By a great stoke of luck, I happened to be in Hanoi during the city's 1000th birthday celebration, so the whole joint was completely tarted up with flowers and banners and whatnot. But even without that, I think the city would have been fantastic. Hanoi oozed "classic" charm; old buildings that show their age well, totally pedestrian friendly streets, nice art galleries, great little sidewalk pubs. I spent a lot of time just strolling around the city. I know it's totally impractical, but I'm really hoping to get back there one more time before I leave India.

From Hanoi I went to Ho Chi Minh City, a.k.a. Saigon. HCMC is totally modern, with all the hustle and bustle you'd expect. I did have one really interesting moment where I worried I might be on candid camera though... On my last day there, I got waylaid by a group of students. They told me they were doing a school project and wanted to ask me a few questions. I've had this happen several other times (Tokyo, Seoul, Taipei), so I wasn't suspicious. They started with the usual questions; where am I from, how long have I been in Vietnam, what's my favorite thing about Vietnam, what's my favorite American holiday, etc. Then they started asking some "cultural" questions... When did Americans learn about sex education in school? Did I think learning about sex led to kids having sex? Did Americans use drugs? Can Americans buy condoms easily? Did I think that easy condom availability led to having sex? Do all Americans have sex with prostitutes (because all the movies we see have prostitutes in them)? And then, my most favorite question... can Americans buy sex toys? And, as follow-up, do I think it's wrong for Americans to buy sex toys? I wouldn't normally consider myself a prude, but I actually blushed at the last question. I can only imagine what kids in Vietnam are learning about people in America based on that line of questions. Good times...

From HCMC I went on to Cambodia, where thankfully I wasn't asked about the sexual practices of Americans even once. I spent my whole time in Siem Reap, exploring the nearby Angkor temple complex. The temples look just the way they do in every movie you've ever seen them in, and yet are so much more when you're actually there in person, wandering around the ruins... I was only there for a short time, and as such the days were really long because I wanted to see everything I possibly could. But I had a fantastic time nonetheless.

My advice: start planning your trip to Cambodia right now. And, also, stay away from kids with notebooks.

Hallowhen?

2010-11-09T16:07:00.002+05:30

So, it turns out that it was Halloween last week. I only know this because my Mom sent me a card. (Thanks Mom)

As you can probably guess, Halloween isn’t a big holiday in India. In fact, it isn't a holiday at all. So, I could totally blame my lack of American holiday awareness on my total immersion in Indian society. But it’s probably more accurate to blame it on absentmindedness. Or, even more accurately, my suicide travel plan. Because I spent this October 31st in Hanoi, which I have to admit was a pretty awesome treat.

This weekend I'm off to Delhi to meet up with a friend for a weekend of pool time, museums, and drinks. Lots and lots of drinks. And then next weekend I'm off to the US for a short work visit. Hopefully I'll be able to score some leftover Halloween candy on clearance while I'm there!

Some Else's Point of View

2010-10-28T14:52:00.003+05:30

I'm not normally one for reposting other people's stuff. But...

I came across this article, written by an expat living in Mumbai, about her experiences in India. While I can't relate to everything she's experienced (I've never waived a high-heel shoe at anyone before), most everything she writes rings true to me.

So, if you're looking for a distraction that is both entertaining and accurate, read on. If not, come back tomorrow when I'm sure I'll be right back to the regular low brow fare you've come to expect from me.

Cheers.

Living in India is like having an intense but insane affair, writes expat Catherine Taylor
TONIGHT, as I waved my high heel in the face of a bewildered taxi driver, I thought suddenly: I am absolutely nuts in India. It's a thought I have often. Someone or something is always going nuts, and quite often it's me.
I was trying to get a taxi driver to take me home, a mere 500 metres away, but it was pouring with rain and my shoes were oh-so-high, and it was late. He, of course, was having none of it; no amount of shoe-waving and sad-facing from a wild-haired firangi was changing his mind, when suddenly I remembered the magic trick - pay more than you should. "Arre, bhai sahab, 50 rupees to Altamount Road? Please?" And off we went.
I have lived in Mumbai for almost three years. It was my choice to come - I wanted offshore experience in my media career and India was the only country looking to hire - and I wanted a change. I needed something new, exciting, thrilling, terrifying. And India gave that to me in spades. In fact, she turned it all the way up to 11. And then she turned it up a little more.

To outsiders, living in India has a particular kind of glamour attached to it, a special sparkle that sees people crowding around me at parties. "You live in India? My God, really? I could never do that. What's it like?" The closest I have come to answering that question is that it's like being in a very intense, extremely dysfunctional relationship. India and I fight, we scream, we argue, we don't speak for days on end, but really, deep down, we love each other. She's a strange beast, this India. She hugs me, so tightly sometimes that I can't breathe, then she turns and punches me hard in the face, leaving me stunned. Then she hugs me again, and suddenly I know everything will be all right.
She wonders why I don't just "know" how things are done, why I argue with her about everything, why I judge, why I rail at injustice and then do nothing about it. She wonders how old I am, how much I earn, why I'm not married. (The poor census man looked at me, stunned, then asked in a faltering voice, "But madam, if you're not married then… who is the head of your household?") I wonder how she can stand by when small children are begging on corners, how she can let people foul up the streets so much that they are impossible to walk along, how she can allow such corruption, such injustice, such A LOT OF HONKING.
But she has taught me things. She has taught me to be brave, bold, independent, sometimes even fierce and terrifying. She has taught me to walk in another man's chappals, and ask questions a different way when at first the answer is no. She has taught me to accept the things I cannot change. She has taught me that there are always, always, two sides to every argument. And she was kind enough to let me come and stay.
She didn't make it easy though (but then, why should she?). The Foreigner Regional Registration Office, banks, mobile phone companies and rental agencies are drowning under piles of carbon paper, photocopies of passports (I always carry a minimum of three) and the soggy tissues of foreigners who fall to pieces in the face of maddening bureaucracy. What costs you 50 rupees one day might be 500 rupees the next, and nobody will tell you why. What you didn't need to bring yesterday, you suddenly need to bring today. Your signature doesn't look like your signature. And no, we can't help you. Come back tomorrow and see.
It's not easy being here, although I am spoiled by a maid who cooks for me, and a delivery service from everywhere that ensures I rarely have to wave my shoes at taxi drivers. I buy cheap flowers, trawl for gorgeous antiques, buy incredibly cheap books; I have long, boozy brunches in five-star hotels for the price of a nice bottle of wine at home, I have a very nice roof over my head … on the face of it, it would seem I have little to complain about. But then, I am stared at constantly, I have been spat on, sexually harassed, had my (covered) breasts videotaped as I walked through a market, had my drink spiked, been followed countless times. I have wept more here than I have ever in my life, out of frustration, anger, loneliness, the sheer hugeness of being here. But the longer I stay, the more I seem to relax, let go, let it be.
But I do often wonder why I'm here, especially when I'm tired, teary and homesick, my phone has been disconnected for the 19th time despite promises it would never happen again, when it's raining and no taxis will take me home. But then a willing ride always comes along, and we'll turn a corner and be suddenly in the midst of some banging, crashing mad festival full of colour, where everyone is dancing behind a slow-moving truck, and I won't have a clue what's going on but a mum holding a child will dance up to my window and point and smile and laugh, and I breathe out and think, really, my God, this is fantastic. This is India! I live in India! She hugs me, she punches me, and she hugs me again.
Yet I know won't ever belong here, not properly. I know this when I listen to girls discussing what colour blouses they should wear to their weddings - she's Gujarati, he's from the south, she's wearing a Keralan sari. I know when my friends give me house-hunting advice: "Look at the names of the people who already live there, then you'll know what kind of building it is." (Trouble is, I don't know my Kapoors from my Kapurs, my Sippys from my Sindhis, my Khans from my Jains). I know this when my lovely fruit man (who also delivers) begs me to taste a strawberry he is holding in his grubby hands and I have to say no, I can't eat it, I'll die… I know I will never belong because, as stupid as it sounds, being truly, properly Indian is in your DNA. I marvel at how incredibly well educated so many of them are, how they can all speak at least three languages and think it's no big deal, how they fit 1000 people into a train carriage meant for 300 and all stand together quite peacefully, how they know the songs from every Hindi film ever made, how they welcome anyone and everyone (even wild-haired, complaining firangis) into their homes for food, and chai, and more food.
I've seen terrible things - someone fall under a train, children with sliced-off ears, old, old men sitting in the rain nursing half-limbs while they beg, children covered in flies sleeping on the pavement, beggars with no legs weaving themselves through traffic on trolleys, men in lunghis working with their hands in tiny corridors with no fans in sky-high temperatures. I've read heartbreaking things, of gang rapes, corruption, environmental abuse. I've smelled smells that have stripped the inside of my nostrils, stepped over open sewers in markets, watched a goat being bled to death.
I've done things of which I am ashamed, things I never thought I would do. I have slapped a starving child away, I have turned my head in annoyance when beggars have tapped repeatedly on my taxi window, I have yelled at grown men in the face. I have been pinched and pinched back, with force. I have slapped, I have hit, I have pushed. I have screamed in anger. I have, at times, not recognised myself.
I've yelled at a man for kicking a dog, and yelled at a woman who pushed into a line ahead of me when I wasn't at all in a hurry. When a teenage beggar stood at the window of my taxi, saying "F… you madam" over and over, I told him to go f… himself and gave him the finger; once on the train I let a kid keep 100 rupees as change. I am kind and I am cold-hearted, I am fair and I am mean, I am delightful and I am downright rude. I am all of these at once and I distress myself wildly over it, but somehow, India accepts me. She has no time for navel-gazing foreigners; she just shoved everyone along a bit and made room for me. She has no time to dwell on my shortcomings, she just keeps moving along.
And then, and then. I've been to temples where I've sung along with old women who had no teeth, I've held countless smiling ink-marked babies for photos, I've had unknown aunties in saris smile and cup my face with their soft, wrinkled hands, I've made street vendors laugh when I've choked on their spicy food, I've danced through the streets at Ganpati, fervently sung the national anthem (phonetically) in cinemas, had designers make me dresses, I've met with CEOs and heads of companies just because I asked if I could. She hugs, she punches, she hugs again.
In short, I have been among the luckiest of the lucky. She keeps me on my toes, Ms India, and I have been blessed that she let me stay for a while. She wanted me to succeed here and she gave me grand opportunities and endless second chances. She willed me forward like a stern parent. She welcomed me. And when I leave, because I know I will one day, I will weep, because I will miss her terribly. And because I know she won't even notice that I am gone.

Original article here.

Slice of Life #13: Marriage

2010-10-26T09:05:00.005+05:30

For me, one of the more mysterious aspects of life in India is the arranged marriage. I don't understand how you could commit to spending the rest of your life with a person you first meet on the day of your actual engagement. Of course, I'm single at 36, so I'm not really in any position to judge.

Since so many marriages are arranged here, there is a bustling business in helping to arrange those arrangements. There are astrologers you can hire to ensure your signs are compatible, consultants you can hire to research the prospective spouse, even numerologists who will tell you if the letters in your names are a good omen.

But I think my favorite thing is the Matrimonial Classifieds section in the newspaper.

Jakarta

2010-10-12T19:18:00.004+05:30

I went to Jakarta this weekend. It was nice.

Jakarta has been on my travel list since I moved to India. Everyone told me Jakarta would be unpleasant. Crazy bad traffic. Urban sprawl. Pollution. And, admittedly, Jakarta was all of those things.

But it was also surprisingly modern; sky-scrapers everywhere. Working electricity. Everyone I interacted with was totally polite. And a nice art scene.

I did have one comical moment in one of the art galleries I went to. I found a painting I really liked, and inquired about the price. 35 million was the answer. There is an absurd exchange rate between the dollar and the Indonesian Rupiah. But still, the quoted price was so large that I actually laughed out loud at the gallery docent. I don't think she really understood why... Oh well.

Mental note: next time I'm in Indonesia (when I go to Bali!), remember to take a calculator so I can do the currency exchange without laughing.

**************************

A few months back my friend Peter told me I was prejudiced against the southern hemisphere, as evidenced by the fact that in all my travels I never went there. Well, I'm happy to report that 1) Jakarta is in the southern Hemisphere; and 2) I enjoyed Jakarta. Ergo, I will like all of the southern hemisphere.

I'm looking forward to testing that logic!

The Countdown

2010-10-08T16:50:00.003+05:30

It's official. I'll be living in the US on May 1st, 2011. I haven't purchased my tickets home or anything yet. But, we've announced my return date to my team and peers at work, so my departure is as official as official gets.

Frankly, I'm a little conflicted about it all...

One one hand I'm excited about returning home. I miss my friends, my family. All things considered, MSP is a pretty good town, with art and culture and restaurants that I like. I'm looking forward to having seasons again; as much as it gets dreary sometimes I honestly enjoy the brisk of fall that turns into the cold of winter. There is a good job lined up for me, that has the potential to keep me entertained (for a while at least). And I'm counting the days until I live in a place again that's suitable for a dog.

On the other hand, I've really enjoyed living outside of the U.S. of A. Not just the travel, mind you (which has been pretty awesome). But also the constant stream of adventures, both big and small. Sure it will be nice to have working electricity and drinkable water. But to have everything work all the time, in a reliable and predictable way; to not have the daily challenge of learning something new, different, foreign. I'm going to miss that. A lot.

And, I'm worried that I might miss it so much that it will ruin the good of everything else.

I've looked into a couple of options at work that would turn my current international assignment into another one, someplace else in the big wide world. But each path I've explored has ended with a "possible option, maybe" at "some point in the future." In other words, don't call us, we'll call you.

So, I'm beginning to make concrete plans for my repatriation home. I'm looking at apartments and considering different neighborhoods. I'm researching cars, and even debating the possibility of going sans vehicle for a while. I'm making travel plans that have MSP as a starting point instead of BLR. I'm a planner at heart, and I think doing this will give me comfort. I'm hoping if I work hard enough, I'll be able to plan myself into a new adventure even as my current adventure ends.

Slice of Life #12: Creepy Mannequins

2010-10-06T22:16:00.003+05:30

I don't know why, but for some reason I find mannequin displays here to be creepy. Perhaps mannequins are also creepy in the US, and I just never noticed before...

Take for example, this display. You've got the armless adults with odd colors of lipstick and flock-of-seagulls hair. Then there are those three center children with their menacing village-of-the-damned stares. And those kids are book-ended with the little girl covered in pink flowers sporting a teamsters style whadyalookinat hat on the left, and baby-headless over there on the right.

Disturbing, right?

Slice of Life #11: Half Assed

2010-09-30T13:42:00.004+05:30

Something that has always surprised me about India is the number of really nice things that are half-assed. Either really nice places with really poor construction. Or, places that were once-upon-a-time nice, but have been so poorly maintained for so long that they no longer qualify as nice anymore.

Take, for example, my kitchen sink.

By just about any scale you use, I live in a pretty nice apartment. My complex was built less than 5 years ago. It's big. Comfortable. With some fairly decent amenities.

And yet for some reason, when my sink and water filter were being installed, someone decided to half ass the job. The hoses and wires run all over the place, and the water filter spigot doesn't actually empty over the sink, meaning if you make a mess, you really make a mess. But my favorite part is the actual hot/cold water tap. It's crooked, and sticks out of the wall too far. Still the installer had the courtesy to use those metal shrouds so as to (try and) hide the pipes.

Nice.

Let the Games Begin

2010-09-28T18:53:00.003+05:30

I have to admit that I've been watching the train wreck known as the Commonwealth Games with equal parts fascination and horror.

Part of me hopes for Delhi to be successful. Despite all its troubles, India is a pretty great country after all, and Delhi is a pretty cool city in particular. I've enjoyed many, many things while living here the last two years. But at the same time, I've also been driven batshit crazy by many, many of the other things whilst living here in India.

So, as I've been watching the Commonwealth Games crisis unfold (killer snakes, killer bridges, killer dog poops on beds, killer beds, and actual killers), I've been conflicted about my annoyance at India for screwing up the games this badly, and my annoyance at the rest of the world for being such jerks about everything Indian.

But more than anything else, I've been surprised by my annoyance to my own reactions. Not too long ago, I would have totally sided with the rest of the world (check out the BBC for some pics) regarding the state of the Games Village. But now I find myself thinking, "I've seen worse."

And, I don't know if that means I've been here too long, or not long enough.

Slice of Life #10: Flowering

2010-09-21T16:31:00.003+05:30

It's monsoon season here in India.

In most of India that means lots and LOTS of rain, with the occasional flood thrown in, just to keep things interesting. Here in Bangalore, it means a couple months of non-stop overcast days with the occasional rain shower thrown in, just to keep things dreary.

But the plus side of all that rain and diffuse sunlight is that everything that was once brown is now green, and everything that was once green is now flowering. Take for example, the tree in the driveway of my apartment building.

I'm not normally one for flowers. They're nice and all, but they ain't my thing. This tree however, is pretty fantastic. I know that some Indians refer to it as a "Fire Tree", but I have no idea what the "real" name is... and I don't really care. The flowers on this thing are the size of my head (read: gigantic) and blazing neon orange. Looking at this tree really is a nice way to start and end my day.

Colombo

2010-09-20T18:34:00.006+05:30

I went to Colombo (Sri Lanka) this weekend... My trip was a short one (down late Friday, back early Monday), but since Colombo has been on my travel wish-list since the day I moved here, I was happy to squeeze the visit in at all.

Unfortunately, Colombo rated as a "meh" for me. Mind you, it's monsoon season, so I couldn't really enjoy the beach. And I didn't get out of Colombo proper during my 60 hour trip, so it's not like I saw a fair sample of the whole country. And, I did see some nice, mildly dilapidated colonial buildings, and a few cool looking temples (Buddhist, not Hindu). But for the most part it just felt like honking traffic, dirty streets, and lots of low-quality modern construction (read: just like Bangalore).

I did get a few hints that the area outside Colombo might be fantastic though; a few photographs I saw in an art show, and a couple of "traditional" Ceylon cafes that smacked of small-island elegance. But I didn't get to spend any real time exploring that feeling. I guess it just means that I'll have to go back to Sri Lanka at some point. You know... the next time I'm living in India. In the far off distant future... Or when I win the lottery...

(sigh)

Eid Mubarak

2010-09-10T19:12:00.002+05:30

It's Eid here in Bangalore. Well, technically I suppose it's Eid everywhere...

India is a country of celebrations. And the neighborhood where I live, though predominately Muslim, has a handful of Hindu temples and even a couple of churches. That means basically every weekend of the year, someone is celebrating something. In other words there are fireworks exploding and bands blaring and decorations decorating all the time. Sometimes it gets tiring...

But not during Eid. Sure, there have been some fireworks. And the usual five-times-a-day call to prayer has been a little longer (and better) than normal. But for the most part, it's been a calm, enjoyable affair. And that is yet one more reason why I like living in a Muslim neighborhood.

So, here's wishing the world's 1.5 billion Muslims a happy Eid ul-Firt

On a less enjoyable note, I am not in Bali right now, as I planned to be. Jetlag has been kicking my ass all week. Hard. And instead of flying to one of the nicest places on the planet and spending the entire time in my hotel room sleeping, I decided to delay the trip. So this weekend I'm doping up on Ambien (cost: 12 cents per pill) and catching up on my pile o' magazines. Next weekend I'll get back in the travel saddle. That is, assuming I take time of out my reading/sleeping schedule to book a trip.

Home

2010-09-07T06:07:00.002+05:30

I'm back in BLR again, and I'm t-i-r-e-d. As in previous versions, my trip home was a whirlwind of work and fun.

On the work side, I made good progress towards a couple of big things, including defining my exact return date and potential next role. In an odd twist, even though I now have more details about what my options are, I feel like I have a less clear picture about which option I'll actually pursue. I've got a few months before I need to start pursuing anything seriously, and so my plan between now and then is to mull, fret, and repeat.

On the personal side, I had a good trip. I spent some quality time with the family. I hung out with a bunch of friends. I made a trip to NYC to see my god daughter, who gets more and more adorable every time I see her. And, I was even able to take in a US open game where I saw Venus Williams wearing the dress. My review - the dress was pretty cool. Two things I now know about professional tennis games: they only serve fancy beer, and (despite the beer) the stadium is just as quiet in person as it appears on TV.

I've got a few days in BLR to do all my laundry, unpack my new shoes, and recycle two weeks worth of accumulated newspapers before I leave again. This weekend I'm off to Bali to recover from the US. I'm confident that my Bali trip will be much more low key than the US, where my only plans are to snorkel, eat, and repeat.

Good Day

2010-08-20T23:20:00.004+05:30

Can you guess where I am?

If you guessed heaven, you would be wrong. But close... I'm in London, and having a fantastic time of it.

I'm wrapping up my second day here. Already I've been to The Tate Britain, The Tate Modern, The Saatchi Gallery, The British Museum, and The British Library, thus confirming my status as a museum whore. Today alone I saw the Rosetta Stone, the Magna Carta, a sheep suspended in a container of formaldehyde (guess which one I liked the most!), had a lunch filled with cider, and went to the Evensong service at St. Paul's Cathedral.

I plan to spend tomorrow shoe shopping... And possibly going to church one more time... And for sure drinking more cider.

Speaking of, the booze here comes with the best warning label I've ever seen. I didn't know this until just now, but apparently you shouldn't drink if you are overweight and have a ponytail.

Radio Silence

2010-08-17T13:41:00.002+05:30

I've fallen of the blog wagon...

Every time I look at my stupid blog and think about writing something, it seems overwhelming. So, I've simply been avoiding it. Avoidance – the solution to every problem.

The last several weeks have been jam-packed. I've been to Hyderabad (meh), Seoul (which was fun), Tokyo (one of my favorite cities in the world), and Jodhpur (where I stayed in the nicest hotel ever). Tonight I'm boarding a plane again; this time headed to the US, with a "short" layover in London. Four days counts as short, right? I'm eagerly anticipating all the cider, flapjacks, and Cadbury Eggs that I'm going to consume in London. You know, plus the museums and culture and stuff.

But once I get to the US things will start to get crazy. As in my previous trips, every single lunch, evening, and weekend timeslot is booked, with side-trips planned to Wisconsin and New York. It will be fun to see everyone. But it will also be tiring. I'm also hoping to get some official clarity in this trip around my exact repatriation timeline back to the US. Five months? 10 months? 15 months? What will the fates decide?!?

All in all, it should be an interesting couple of weeks. Hopefully interesting enough that I will feel inspired to blog again. No promises though...

Slice of Life #9: Fruit

2010-07-08T23:17:00.004+05:30

I do most of my shopping in one of two "large" (by Indian standards) "grocery" (they do technically sell food) "stores" (just barely though) around town... everything except for fruit that is. For some reason, it's really hard to get fresh fruit in the stores. So I do most of my fruit shopping at the local fruit stand down the street.

There are always apples and bananas, which is really all I want. I'm a simple man with simple needs... But there are also always several items I can't identify. It's part of the fun of shopping; trying to answer the question, "what the hell is this..."

On hot days, the flies are always in full effect. Nothing says yummy like a crate full o' flies.

Brunei

2010-07-05T09:08:00.004+05:30

I went to Bandar Seri Begawan this weekend, the capital city of Brunei... It was a nice, though somewhat short diversion.

BSB is a small, compact town. You can walk most of it in about an hour. It's also mostly a modern town, with not a lot going on by way of the tourism scene. That said, I found the town to be a nice low-key weekend getaway. The people are totally friendly, and the city is clean, quiet, and completely pedestrian friendly. There is a beautiful mosque right in the center of town, surrounded by an artificial lake. And that's about it...

I'm headed back to Bangalore tonight. Apparently there is going to be a national strike today to protest the rise in gas prices. I'm a little unsure how that will impact my transportation home from the airport. But, since it's India, if there is any problem with my car, I'll always have the option of traveling home by oxen cart. Should be interesting!

Cast Away

2010-06-29T19:03:00.002+05:30

I got my cast off today, and it makes me very happy.

My hand looks like something out of a cheap horror movie (the best kind!), and I still can't move my thumb more than a teeny, tiny bit. But just having the ability to move my wrist is a huge improvement. For example, now I can type with two hands, which is so much better than typing with one. And tonight, I'm going to try flossing. Hmmmm... flossing. If all goes well, I may even try to get on the treadmill tomorrow!

I go back to the hospital in two weeks, at which point we will begin "discussing" physical therapy. I don't really know what that means, but for right now I don't care.

Hurray for healing!

Mumbai Again

2010-06-28T08:52:00.005+05:30

I went back to Mumbai this weekend.

I had planned to do the last bit of touristy stuff there that I haven't done in my previous trips, but didn't actually do much at all. It turns out that walking around in the muggy Mumbai heat with your arm in a cast, and that cast in a (wool?) sling is ridiculously uncomfortable. I tried walking around one morning, and then gave up to enjoy the comforts of my hotel instead.

I still have two trips planned back to Mumbai as part of my travel suicide plan, including one with a couple of friends who will be visiting from the US in October... hurray for visitors!

One funny note about my experience. I get stared at wherever I go in India. [insert your own smarmy joke here] Being a really tall whitey, I'm a bit of a novelty. I've been stopped on the street on more than one occasion and asked to pose in photos with people. I've even been posed with wives and children, which seems a little creepy. But whatever... More often than not though, people usually just go the stare-at-me-from-a-distance route. If you look closely at the photo above, you can catch a glimpse of a guy snapping a photo of me snapping a photo of the Gateway of India.

Good times.

Slice of Life #8: Jasmine

2010-06-22T08:37:00.006+05:30

There are a lot of smells I associate with India... many of them rather unpleasant. But I will also always think of India whenever I smell Jasmine.

Jasmine is used as a decoration for all occasions here. Every morning on the way to work, I pass several people selling garlands of the flower, for use in homes, at weddings, in temples, even on the bumpers of cars. But I think my favorite use is when it is woven into a woman's hair.

It's a fairly common thing to do; some women do it every day. Because of this, my office building always smells of Jasmine. And given the alternatives, this is something I'm happy for!

New Experiences Suck

2010-06-16T14:44:00.003+05:30

Yesterday I had two new experiences... riding in the back of an ambulance, and having surgery. Believe me when I say that I hope to repeat neither.

It started simply enough... I was in my apartment, exercising. I slipped, and put my hand through the glass patio door trying to break my fall. Turns out that the door wasn't strong enough to support a falling-down-me, and that we don't use safety glass here in India. So, when my hand went through the door I got a pretty bad cut, right on my wrist. This led to lots of blood, a fair amount of panic, and eventually, an ambulance showing up at my apartment. I was not reassured when the ambulance tech looked at my cut and said "oof" which I'm assuming means the same thing in Hindi as it does in English. He told me I would need stitches, and so I got my first ride in an ambulance.

Two "only in India" moments about the ride: the rubber gloves were too large for the tech, so they kept falling off... and the driver didn't actually know the way to the hospital, so the tech in back with me had to keep yelling instructions up front to him.

I wound up having surgery later that day to repair a tendon in my hand that had been nicked by the glass. I'm in a cast now (which makes everything surprisingly difficult), but it should only be for a few weeks while the tendon heals, at which point I should be back to normal. Things I know now about hospitals here include:

Sanitary means different things in different countries ~ a fact I tried VERY hard not to think about the entire day.
Nurses are called sisters ~ something that took me at least half the day to figure out.
Hospital food apparently sucks everywhere.
I am taller than every hospital bed in India.
Patients are not actually allowed to check themselves out of hospitals, which makes it very difficult to leave when you are by yourself.

All things considered, I was fairly fortunate. That said, I'm definitely hoping NOT to repeat any portion of this experience e-v-e-r again.

Delhi

2010-06-14T19:20:00.003+05:30

I went to Delhi this weekend.

I was there again for a weekend of museum browsing and gallery hopping, as part of my travel suicide plan. If everything works out as planned, this will be my last trip to Delhi. I might wind up there again to do some visa stuff, but I hope not. Nothing against Delhi, mind you... I just got other places to visit.

As the last time I was there, I enjoyed Delhi. It's a nice city with a good art scene. And, since it is the nation's capital, there are several good monuments, including the India Gate (above), not to be confused with the Gateway of India in Mumbai.

I saw a couple of good shows, had some fantastic dim sum (once again accompanied by my good friend Bruce), and spent a little quality time at the pool.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a weekend!

Slice of Life #7: Garbage

2010-06-11T07:15:00.003+05:30

Sanitation is a problem here in India, because there is no proper infrastructure for it.

That means garbage piles up... everywhere. This mini garbage dump is a few hundred meters from my apartment, right next to the stand where I buy my fruit.

Additionally, since there is such a large stray animal problem here, it's also fairly common to see neighborhood animals feasting on the new piles, wherever they form. I like to think of it as recycling...

Taipei and Hong Kong

2010-06-10T08:18:00.002+05:30

I went to Taipei and Hong Kong last week... Both places get two thumbs up!

My first impression of Taipei: efficient. I know that wouldn’t be a selling point for a lot of people, but I loved it. Everything worked exactly as I thought it would. Everyone was exceedingly polite. It was easy to move from one part of town to another. Everything was clean and well organized. Small museums and temples were scattered throughout the city.

My first day in Taipei I was entering the subway system, and a guy chased after me. I put on my don't-bother-panhandling-me face (one that I've gotten quite good at I might add) when he held out a small trash bin in front of him and said rather apologetically, "I'm sorry sir, no gum is allowed in here." It took me a second to process what he said, and then I tossed my gum in the trash. As I continued my trek down into the subway, I kept thinking how very weird that was ~ until I actually entered the station. It was crazy clean. And quiet. And it even had little lines etched into the ground to show people where to stand, so that they wouldn't crowd other passengers getting off trains. And people were actually standing inside the lines. At that moment I knew I was in love with the city.

Among the highlights of my visit to Taipei were my visits to the Chiang Kai-Shek and Sun Yat-sen memorial halls. Both places contain giant statues of the leaders. At Sun Yat-sen I saw the changing of the guards, which had an absurd amount of gun twirling and foot stomping. At Chiang Kai-shek, I stood around and watched high school kids get in front of the temple and shout praises to the leader. You gotta love that!

I enjoyed my time in Taipei in quiet, polite, clean bliss. And then I went to Hong Kong, which is none of those things. Nonetheless, I completely enjoyed my time in HKG as well.

Hong Kong feels like the crazy bustling metropolis that it is... There are people everywhere you look, going in every direction, having loud animated conversations with other people, or on cellphones, or with themselves, sometimes all at the same time. The city has a way of feeling both modern and rundown. There are museums and art galleries everywhere, some in shiny new skyscrapers, others in rundown tenements. Since it was a former British colony, there are Irish bars (serving cider!) everywhere. And whereas a lot of other places try to hide their ugly parts, Hong Kong shows them off. In other words, it's a perfect city.

I ate like a king, saw great art, drank enough cider to drown a person, consumed a mountain of chocolate (some of it on an actual mountain), and wandered from one end of the city to another. All in all, not a bad way to spend my birthday!

TPE and HKG

Me!

2010-06-04T06:57:00.001+05:30

Happy Birthday to Me!

That's right... I turn 36 years old today, officially bringing me another year closer to death, another year further from the MTV generation, and a little deeper into the age bracket that remembers how things "used to be." I'm now old enough to be the parent of a high school graduate... Or, since I'm from small-town Wisconsin, possibly even a college graduate.

I rang in year 36 in Hong Kong, which I recommend to everyone as a great place to turn one year older. I say that not to be a ranging in-your-face-travel-jerk (though let's face it, I kind of am), but to highlight how crazy lucky I am. Year 35, from Israel to now, was full of adventures; travel, personal and otherwise.

So... even though I won't get to spend this day with friends or family, I still feel really lucky.

Slice of Life #6: Street Art

2010-05-26T20:50:00.003+05:30

Street art is everywhere in India. I saw this design in front of a home a few hundred meters away from my apartment. But I’ve seen similar designs in front of office towers and car dealership and homes in every Indian city I’ve visited. Art appears more often around major Indian festivals. But, some homes seem to do it year round.

In other words, I think there is no reason for it, other than it looks nice.

For me, this art is just one of the many, many factors that make India so fantastically overwhelming sometimes. Every surface is decorated, no matter if that surface is a wall, a painting, or even a street.

Slice of Life #5: Shrines

2010-05-22T20:32:00.003+05:30

One of the more charming aspects of India is the neighborhood shrine. Every neighborhood everywhere in India has a shrine; you have only to wander around a little to find it. On big holidays, or small but culturally important holidays, or weddings, or celestial events (e.g. eclipse), or political events, or whatever-the-hell-else, those shrines occasionally get dragged out and carted around the neighborhood.

But usually, the shrine is in a fixed location. And usually, if you look closely, you'll find a small pile of offerings that gets left every day by the myriad faithful.

This shrine is about a two minute walk from my apartment. But in that same amount of time, I could walk to three other shrines. My working assumption is that I get credit for going to church by walking by the shrine. At this pace, I've made up for my 15 year lapse, and am now banking future credits. With any luck, by the time I leave India I'll have accumulated enough shrine time to cover me for ever.

Laos

2010-05-18T18:02:00.004+05:30

I went to Vientiane, the capital of Laos this weekend. It was totally charming, in a steaming-hot-small-town-French-colonial sort of way.

To get there I had to take a six hour layover in Bangkok, and fly overnight. I have since come to the realization that I am now far too old for that sort of thing, since I basically spent the entire first day (of a three day trip) laying around in my hotel room napping. That said, pretty much I enjoyed everything else about Vientiane.

Every person I interacted with was exceeding polite. The town is fairly compact, but walkable ~ even in the heat. The temples I saw were well maintained. And they have a nice little national beer, Beer Lao, which I had more than a couple of... Depending on how the rest of my suicide travel plan works out, I may hop back to Laos for one more excursion.

But, absolutely, positively, not on an overnight flight.

Vientiane

Slice of LIfe #4: Service, Lack Thereof

2010-05-11T09:19:00.010+05:30

One thing that took some getting used to when I moved here was the totally different view on "service." As an American, I've grown up expecting to find what I want, when I want it, wherever I am. In general, this is why I think Americans are bad travelers; we haven't the slightest idea how to deal with the unexpected.

India is just as service crazed as the US, only in a totally different way. I'm used to thinking of service as "options" whereas here I think service is defined as "people." Case in point... I went to the airport last weekend to take a quick hop down to Sri Lanka, as part of my Suicide Travel Plan. But when I got to the airport, the flight was inexplicably canceled. I was given the option of coming back to the airport the next morning, and flying through an alternate city, turning what is a 90 minute direct flight into a 6 hour crapfest. Obviously I turned that down and asked for a refund of my tickets.

Turns out though that the airport staff weren't authorized to do that. The only option was for me to wait for the money to be refunded automagically, "10 - 15" business days later. There was no way I was going to leave the airport without some sort of proof that my flight was canceled, and that I was promised a full refund. So, I asked the manager to write me a note and stamp it; stamping things is a VERY BIG deal in India. He agreed to do this, and the whole affair took only 90 minutes... not bad for airport time.

But the best part of this story is the employee to customer ratio: there was literally a one-to-one ratio of employees to customers. But, the two minutes of help I actually received took 90 minutes because only one person was authorized to assist. All of the junior assistants simply had to wait for the manager to come over and give his blessing.

Sweet...

Funny post script. Once everything was said and done, it took another 10 minutes to exit the airport, because a form had to be filled out and stamped (again with the stamps) giving us permission to exit from the entry door. No... I am not kidding. If you squint just right, you can see me pouting in the reflection of the sliding glass door.

Slice of LIfe #3: Welcome to the Future!

2010-05-05T17:23:00.004+05:30

I went to the Indian post office today.

This is a task I have successfully avoided until now. But today I had to mail a parcel to the friendly folks at the American Consulate in Chennai; I'm applying for a second passport, so I can get into countries that won't let me in with my first passport which has an Israeli stamp in it.

The entire experience was surprisingly painless, by the "Indian", "Post Office", and even "Indian + Post Office" scales. I had to grab a quick picture of this entry plaque when I saw it though. For the record, sending my parcel required filling out one paper form, and then having my clerk fill out another paper form. But, at the very end, he slapped a barcode on my package, scanned it, and chucked it in a bin.

I guess the lesson here is that "fully computerised" and "fully automated" are totally separate things...

The Maldives

2010-04-29T21:31:00.004+05:30

I went to the Maldives this weekend.

Before moving to India I never really "leisure" traveled much. I preferred instead to see cities, museums, culture, etc. But since coming here, I've definitely acquired an appreciation (at least temporarily) for going places and having no obligation other than eating, drinking, and sleeping.

The Maldives brings that appreciation to a whole new level. The entire experience of the Maldives was a bit surreal. When the plane landed, I walked outside the airport, crossed the street, boarded a waiting boat, and took off to the hotel, which was on it's own island. From there I spent a lot of time laying around, staring slack-jawed at the amazing views, and saying "wow" over and over again.

But when I wasn't getting my sloth on, I was snorkeling. I've never been snorkeling before, and it took me a little while to get comfortable with the whole "breathing through a tube" thing. But once I did, I had an amazing time checking out life on the ocean floor. It was a bit like being on my own personal Discovery Channel show. I saw the craziest neon colored fish, coral of every shape and size, a sea slug (which is actually much cooler than it sounds), and an octopus. And then I saw a shark. And then I got out of the water.

But even with my shark encounter, and the huge ear infection I got after swimming in the ocean, I would definitely give the Maldives two gigantic thumbs up.

The Maldives

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I'd be remiss if I didn't say this...

The day after I returned home to BLR, my Grandpa, Arno, died. He lived to a very old age, and had a family that loved him very much. So, I suppose there's not much more for which one could ask.

There was a lot of family drama growing up, and as such my memories of my Grandpa stop right around the time I became a teenager. It wasn't until the last year when I met Arno again as an adult. By that time he had developed Alzheimer's, and so I don't really know what he was aware of or remembered. But I will always, always be thankful that I had the chance to reconnect.

So, even though I can't make it back to the USA for the funeral, my thoughts will be with my family tomorrow as my Grandpa is laid to rest.

Slice of Life #2: Sidewhat?

2010-04-22T07:49:00.003+05:30

Traffic can get pretty bad in BLR sometimes... The distance, door to door, from my home to my job is just slightly over two miles. But it's not uncommon for that commute to take me an hour. During especially bad days, it can take two hours...

Apparently everyone finds the traffic unacceptable though... not just me. People ignore traffic lights ALL the time. It's not uncommon for cars to block intersections, just on the hopes that they might eventually make it through to the other side. I've even been in cars where the driver has pulled onto the wrong side of the road, not simply to pass someone, but for entire blocks, just because he was annoyed with the traffic.

But my favorite thing of all is driving on the sidewalk. When traffic gets out of hand, it's totally common to see motorcycles, and sometimes even cars, mount the curb and turn the sidewalk into a sidedrive.

Best. Dog. Ever.

2010-04-19T18:13:00.005+05:30

My dog, Harry, died yesterday. It happened quite suddenly. At least for me... I knew he had been having some health problems the last few months, but never really entertained the idea that they were anything serious. They clearly were...

I'm filled with all sorts of maudlin thoughts. Leaving him behind in MPLS was the hardest part of taking this assignment. Harry had a really shitty life before I adopted him. His old owners left him at the night-deposit box at the Animal Humane Society because they were too embarrassed to hand him over during the day. And for years after, Harry had an unnatural fear of things he shouldn't have; like small confined spaces, and yelling, and belts.

And admittedly, I wasn't the best possible dog owner when I first got him. I wasn't really prepared for the changes in my life he necessitated, like coming home after work to let him out. Or cleaning up after someone else's mess. Or, I guess at its most basic, not making my life entirely about me all the time.

But once I got used to him, and he got used to me, he was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I don't mean this in a corny Hallmark sort of way... but my life measurably improved once I got Harry, and I think I became a better, happier person.

Even though I found the BEST POSSIBLE home for Harry, with the mother of a friend of mine, who spoiled him beyond belief, and gave him basically 24-hour non-stop loving, and a gigantic fenced in yard, and even a doggy compatriot (something which my dog always wanted), I can't help but feel like I abandoned him in the end.

I know that's not true. I know I'll get over feeling this way. But for tonight at least, I'm going to mope around my apartment and think fondly about the best dog ever.

****************************************************************

Since I'm on another continent, and can't force you to be subjected to my moping, I hope you'll consider doing something else supportive instead. Consider making a donation to the great folks at Animal Humane Society, so other dogs like Harry can be rescued too.

Hampi

2010-04-18T13:39:00.006+05:30

I went on a road trip to Hampi this weekend. I got burned to a roasted-red crisp while I was there. But it was completely worth it, because Hampi is among the coolest places I've been anywhere in the world... Why this place isn't more popular is a total mystery to me.

The drive to Hampi was a little torturous. About 75% of the distance has (mostly) modern, (mostly) safe highways. But the last 25% breaks down into paved and semi-paved roads, littered with tiny villages split asunder by the road, herds of goats and cows, and trucks that have crashed and burned to a cinder (no, I'm not kidding).

Hampi itself is a fairly unremarkable small town. But the ruins around Hampi are what make the trip worthwhile. They are between 500 -700 years old, and cover everything from perfectly preserved temples to rubble laying about on the ground. What was amazing though, was the size of the ruins -- they are city sized, like Pompei. It would take days to thoroughly explore the whole area. I was also stunned by how well preserved some of the ruins are -- they look like they were carved yesterday. Had it not been for the heat stroke I'm sure I was about to suffer, I think I could have spent another several hours just wandering around and staring.

What I originally intended as just a way to kill a weekend turned out to be an amazing travel adventure!

Slice of Life #1: Who's That Girl?

2010-04-15T21:33:00.003+05:30

As part of my oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-be-leaving-soon freakout, I realized that I haven't done a very good job of documenting India. There is so much here to which I've now become accustomed, but that I first found strange, unusual, inexplicable, horrific, and/or hilarious. This is my attempt to capture those moments that have caused me to do a double-take...

The "Britny Beauty Parlour" is located on a small street, midway between my work and my flat. I drive by it every night on my way home. And still, a year in, it makes me chortle every time I see it, because: 1) that's not how you spell "Britny" and 2) that's not even Britney.

Accuracy is so totally overrated.

I don't know if this makes me really gay for knowing that's not Britney, or really old, for remembering when Christina actually looked like that. I'm sure the right answer to that question is: both.

Suicide Travel Plan

2010-04-13T18:45:00.003+05:30

My travel planning has gotten so out of hand that even I am willing to call it insane. Let me explain...

My return date to the US has always been a little nebulous. I signed a contract when I took this assignment that said I would be in BLR through Feb 28, 2011. But, over the last few months, all the signs (tea leaves, ouija board, chicken bones, etc) have pointed to me leaving around mid-May, 2011… just a few months late. That's a date that makes me quite happy, if for no other reason than the fact that winter will be over in MPLS by then. I love snow and all, but I think moving from two years of perpetual summer to the heart of winter is likely to be horrific.

However, in the last few weeks, all signs have started pointing to me departing India sooner. Like November/December sooner. That has two practical upshots. One – I need to start preparing myself NOW for the possibility that I’ll be moving back to MPLS during the actual heart of winter (where is global warming when you really need it?). And Two – I now have significantly fewer months to accomplish all the travel I still want to do in this part of the world.

I know I’ve been super fortunate, and already seen a ton of amazing stuff. But, I’m also super greedy, and I still want to see more. Queue the Veruca Salt song here.

So… there are 29 weekends between now and November. And as of today, I’m planning on being out of BLR for 25 of them. I’ve already booked 6 of those trips, and hope to book another 6 in the next week or so. Given how much I get sick when I travel, I’m not sure my body will have the capacity to actually do all of this. But, I don’t care… For next several months, my philosophy is going to be: See the world, or die trying!

Ellora

2010-04-05T21:35:00.002+05:30

I went to Ellora this weekend, a small temple site outside of Aurangabad.

Ellora is described as the home of the cave temples. But it's not really fair to call them caves. The "caves" were actually once mountains that were methodically carved away over the course of 500(ish) years. The temples are huge... at least 50 feet tall and several hundred feet deep. It's hard to imagine all of the manual labor that went into carving and hauling that much stone.

But, to whomever did all that work, I say thanks! The temples are amazing.

Frankfurt

2010-03-03T01:45:00.003+05:30

I'm in Frankfurt, on a three day furlough, as I transit from Bangalore to Minneapolis.

Frankfurt is nice, in a small town sort of way. I spent the morning napping (I left BLR at 3 AM), and then wandered around the city in the afternoon. I took in the High Street shopping, and found a bar that served cider(!). Tomorrow I'll go museum hopping, and depending on how ambitious I'm feeling, may research how to get to Cologne.

Or, I may just spend the day drinking again. After all, when in Rome...

One Down, One to Go

2010-03-01T22:16:00.002+05:30

I crossed the 50% line last week.

I'm now one year through a two year assignment, at least in theory. There is some question about exactly how long I will be here, but at this point I think the odds favor me leaving as planned.

This last year has been crazy. I've had more adventures in the last 12 months, both personal and professional, than in the preceeding 12 years. My health has been sketchy... I've downed more ibuprofen, antibiotics, and digestion aids than I thought possible. I've become a lush. I've lost over 20 pounds, and none of my clothes fit anymore ~ even the stuff I bought specifically for India a year ago. I've been totally depressed, totally frustrated, and highly aggravated.

But I've also had ridiculous highs. I've visited 10 new countries, and traveled all over India. I've become hugely more confident in my skills, both personal and professional, and learned a ton about myself. I've been totally entertained, excited, and highly amazed.

I have no idea what the next year will hold. But I am looking forward to it; anticipating the future I can't predict. Here's to ambiguity!

Udaipur

2010-02-28T22:00:00.003+05:30

I spent the weekend in Udaipur, at the Lake Palace.

The Palace might look familiar to you... It was the home of the jewel thief Octopussy from the James Bond movie of the same name (a movie I might add that I loved as a kid). Though there weren't any red-leotard-clad supervixens flying around the joint on pole vaults, the palace was pretty fantastic nonetheless.

In reality, the Lake Palace used to be the summer home of the Maharaja of Udaipur. It's in the center of a lake, and can only be reached by boat. Now the Maharaja rents it out as a hotel. The Palace is ridicusously beautiful, and the surroundings are classic Rajastan.

This definitely ranks as one of my favorite places in India.

Bangkok

2010-02-18T22:35:00.003+05:30

Bangkok has been great. Muggy, but great...

I now feel like I understand what dystopia means. Every sort of depravity exists here in Bangkok, available for sale right on the street. And it exists right next to the McDonald's. Which exists right next the the Buddhist temple. Which exists right next to the street-side stall selling fried vegetables... and pork... and crickets (yes, crickets). And somehow it all works here. It's like I've stepped into Blade Runner, without the killer robots and flying cars.

Of course, I'm already planning my return trip.

Chiang Mai

2010-02-15T17:51:00.002+05:30

I made it to Chiang Mai. It took 45 minutes at the flight counter to figure everything out... But, two short flights later, I was in Thailand having a grand old time.

I'm here for one more day, then I head down to Bangkok for a few days of wackiness (read: museums and temples). Now that I've seen small-town Thailand, I'm curious to see what the big city looks like...

Bad India Day

2010-02-12T08:00:00.003+05:30

The alternate title for this post was "F*ck you, India" but I decided that might be going too far. I will however, give India one of these:

Though it's not entirely easy to tell, that photo was taken from the vantage of me laying on my bed. Let me rewind my last 24 hours for you...

My day yesterday started at a tailor in town. I've been looking for a sherwani (formal, ethnic Indian suit) for some time now. I've been in India for nearly a year, and have attended several functions where it was not only appropriate, but also vaguely expected, that I would wear one. I finally broke down a couple of months ago and began my search in earnest, deciding I could no longer play my I'm-a-newbie card. But since I'm significantly larger than the average Indian, I had to have one custom made. I went yesterday to pick it up, and it turns out that they wanted to charge me 20% more than we agreed. Their reasoning: we made a mistake. When I complained about this, the only alternative they gave me was to make each of the individual sales associates, most of whom where not involved in my purchase, but all of whom just happened to be standing right there staring at me, pay me the difference out of their own pockets. I'm evil, but not that evil. So, I canceled my order and now get to start the whole process over again. Not cool.

Then I went to a regular western tailor, where I had picked out a couple of western suits a few weeks back. Since moving to India I've lost a fair amount of weight, and most of my suits no longer fit. We'd specifically arranged this date and time to pick up the suits. Surprise, surprise... they weren't available. He was expecting them sometime tomorrow, or maybe the weekend. Who can say?

But the pièce de résistance was when I got home last night. I had been planning to fly to Thailand for a week of vacation. This was my first trip to Thailand, and I was pretty excited. Then around 8pm, t-minus 4 hours to departure, I was stricken with a wicked case of the big D. No warnings or hints that anything was wrong. Just one minute I'm OK, and the next minute I'm not. And, I'm not talking the regular, plain old gross kind of D. No, I got the kind where I'm doubled up in pain (literally), both number-twoing and dry-heaving all at the same time. You know things are bad when you find your own self disgusting. And now, I've missed my flights to Thailand (one to Bangkok, and the connecting flight to Chiang Mai) on my budget airline which for sure isn't gonna let me rebook. And I'm especially glad that I pre-paid for that hotel room. Yep... definitely not getting a refund there. And now this morning I find myself starving and completely afraid to eat anything for fear of what will happen.

Good, good times.

Mumbai

2010-02-06T21:21:00.002+05:30

I'm in Mumbai, enjoying the life of the Raj... One thing you gotta love about Mumbai is the "classic" Imperialism stamp the British left here, as evidenced by the clock tower and the cricket players wearing all white.

So very wrong, and yet entertaining nonetheless.

And, F.Y.I., before you say anything, yes I do know I am going straight to hell...

Tastey

2010-01-26T16:59:00.001+05:30

In case you're curious, this is what two cans of refried beans look like in India.

Close, But No Cigar

2010-01-26T13:34:00.007+05:30

I'm having friends over for homemade Mexican food and margaritas tonight.

Over the last few months I've been cobbling together all the ingredients necessary for such an occasion; a can of refried beans here; a bottle of Tabasco sauce there. Last weekend when I stumbled upon tortillas, I had just about everything I needed for a night of livin' la vida loca. Except for margarita mix. Because you can't have Mexican night without margaritas.

So, after several failed searches on my own, I finally asked my trusty driver, Shekar, to see what he could find. I was sure someplace in this city of 8 million people there had to be least one bottle of margarita mix. And I've totally come to respect (and frankly fear) the power of the driver network to find anything and know everything about everyone.

When I came home last night I saw the bottle sitting on the kitchen counter and was excited about having bona fide margaritas to go with the bona fide Mexican food. And then I looked at the bottle closer...

The best part of this is how every close he came to following my instructions (really, he's just two tiny letters off, which is better than I do most days of the week), and how far away the actual end result is from what I needed.

Oh well, now I'll just have to have a wine party some night...

Bahrain

2010-01-19T16:32:00.003+05:30

I went to Manama, Bahrain this weekend.

Bahrain is a tiny island country wedged between Saudi Arabia and the Arabian Sea. It’s the Islamic version of the Bahamas; a foreign yet completely familiar playground where you do the stuff you can’t do (or are too embarrassed to do) at home. In other words, Bahrain is where the Saudis go to drink and party. That means there is a robust nightlife there. Sadly, there isn’t much else.

I’ve been itching to go to Bahrain for some time. It’s is one of those places that I don’t expect I would ever travel to, were I not living in India… Maximizing my travel opportunity and blah blah blah, you know. Basically I want to do the seeing while the seeing is easy.

I spent my first day in Bahrain walking around, checking out the museum (singular) and monument (singular) the city has to offer. While the city of Manama is fairly compact, it clearly was not built for pedestrians. I was the ONLY person walking around the city; there were other people, but they were all in their (very nice) cars. So, even though the weather was fantastic, and the architecture was interesting, my day had an ominous, Night of the Living Dead feeling to it; I kept waiting for a zombie to pop out and try to eat my brains.

After checking out the two sights, I retired to the hotel pool for some reading/napping/snacking. Despite the ridiculous amount of it I seem to do since having moved to India, pool hopping isn’t really my scene. But, it was a nice, quiet, zombie-free way to spend the weekend.

Yes, I know the photos are a little jankey. I tried using the panorama setting on my cell phone, and it didn’t work as well as I hoped… Let’s just chalk it up to learning, OK?

Just Like Crack

2010-01-13T15:50:00.007+05:30

I have a problem. I'll be the first to admit it. It's shameful and wrong, and I just don't care... I'm addicted to Cadbury Creme Eggs.

I fell in love with Cadbury Creme Eggs when I was a kid. My Mom gave them to me in my Easter basket, along with big green Golden Delicious apples (to this day, I still associate Golden Delicious with Easter). My addiction never got out of control, because in the US, Cadbury Creme Eggs are only available at Easter time. Something about resurrecting the dead apparently inspires people to eat magical creme-filled eggs...

The first time I went to London I learned that in Britain the fantastic eggs are available year round. Needless to say, I ate them nonstop, and brought a handful home for good measure. When I moved to India, I harbored a fantasy that I'd be able to find the euphoria-inducing eggs here, because of the British influence. No dice. And since I wasn't home for Easter this year, I've been eggless for way too long.

That changed this week. I have a friend visiting me in India right now who flew through London. While there, she was gracious enough to procure and mule for me four of the joy-giving eggs. I ate my first one today, and it confirmed my addiction is just as strong as ever.

God help me when the remaining three are gone.

Infestation of the Month

2010-01-07T12:54:00.003+05:30

First it was roaches. Then it was those “bees” a.k.a. killer wasps. I suppose I could consider the lizard one too, but he does a good job of hiding for weeks at a time, and supposedly eats insects, so I'm going to give him a pass…

But, now it's pigeons. My apartment, or more specifically my porch, is infested with pigeons. Having lived a pigeon-free life up until this point, I would never have considered pigeons a nuisance. Sure I saw them anytime I went to a major city. And when you go to parks you have to make sure you don't sit in any of their poo, but these things always felt like "urban charm" to me. However, now that my porch has become has become home to pigeons (plural), it turns out I hate them. Here are a few interesting pigeon facts for you:

Pigeons are loud. I mean L-O-U-D! That cooing noise they make at 5 in the morning sounds like a fog horn. On more than one occasion it has actually woken me out of a sound sleep.
Pigeons have absolutely no fear of people. Or at least me. I can walk out there, yell at them, wave my arms, and even approach them, and they are completely nonplussed. It's not until I take out the rolled up newspaper and get into swatting position that they actually disperse.
Pigeons are smart. They have learned that newspaper + me = swatting. So, when I approach with a newspaper, the fly just far enough to be out of reach. And then even before I'm back in they house, they are back on the porch.
Pigeons are poop machines. You can't even believe how disgusting my porch gets after only one day. Seriously.

Not to be outdone by a bird, I've engaged the help of professionals. Even as I type, there is a guy in my apartment covering all my porch's pigeon perches with chicken wire. I've seen other porches done up this way in Bangalore, and always thought the owners were crazy. Now I understand.

I just pray to god that the pigeons don't learn how to use wire cutters…

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-24T18:39:00.004+05:30

I might not have snow... Or a real Christmas tree... Or presents... Or eggnog (OK, soynog actually)... Or 24 hours of The Christmas Story on TNT... But I got the Christmas spirit just the same. So, from balmy Bangalore, I wish you a very merry Christmas!

Totally Rad to the Max!

2009-12-16T17:30:00.002+05:30

I stumbled across this car in the parking garage at work today. I don't know what's better... The fact that an adult Indian put a Thunder Cats sticker on their car. Or the fact that the very same car also has a Playboy sticker.

Whichever you prefer, rest assured the owner of this beast is 100% badass!

Singapore

2009-12-04T13:52:00.000+05:30

Put a lion and a fish in a blender, and voila: the Merlion.

Sick and Sicker

2009-12-03T13:49:00.002+05:30

Sickness has been a common theme for me, since moving to India.

I used to think of myself as a fairly healthy guy. But in the last 10 months, I've been sick and/or injured more times than I can count. As a result I've become a veritable ibuprofen junky, and I've taken to self-medicating with Cipro anytime I get even the slightest cough. I know I'm completely misusing the Cipro when I do this, but it's dirt cheap here, and I figure why kill a fly with a flyswatter when you have a bazooka at your disposal.

However, when I got sick this weekend, again, after just getting healthy two weeks back, I decided it was time to seek the advice of someone other than the internet. Thus began my first encounter with Indian medical care.

The whole experience was fairly painless, though the hospital itself was a great microcosm for India; crazy crowded, dirty, unorganized, and a little old-school (I'm positive the exam room I sat in was British-era). But, on the positive side, the doctor who saw me diagnosed my problem in two minutes, gave me a pile of pills, and now I'm feeling much better.

The best part about this story; the total bill was less than $10. That's not the cost after insurance. That's the full cost for the doctor and three separate prescriptions. Clearly my experience wasn't perfect. But it was affordable and effective. And coming from a country where many people can't afford health care at all, it really forces me to pause and think.

Poolside

2009-11-28T17:55:00.001+05:30

I'm not normally a pool guy kind of guy. But I've started doing a lot of things here in India that I never used to do. Hooray for expanding my horizons!

Today I expanded myself, literally and figuratively, by laying around all day, reading, napping, and filling my belly with Bloody Maries (Marys? Mary's?). This has been my view for the last seven hours.

Sloth is good.

Thanks, Minus the Full

2009-11-26T23:23:00.002+05:30

Though I am decidedly NOT thankful for my less than filling "feast" (compliments of the BLR International Airport), I AM thankful for all the adventures I've had this year, and for the friends and family whom I both miss and love very much.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Clubin' It

2009-11-20T16:43:00.000+05:30

I've arrived in Kolkata for a weekend of museum hopping and monument scoping. In an unexpected spot of luck, I've scored an upgrade to the "Club" floor, which is so nice it gives swank a bad name.

I've only been here and hour, and I've already consumed my complementary fruit, chocolates, and wine.

Signs point to UNLIKELY for me seeing any sights tonight.

The Big Three

2009-11-14T18:51:00.003+05:30

These statues are along the walking path I use to get from my neighborhood to the major shopping district 20 minutes away. I've walked by these three dozens of times, but never really paid any attention to them, until today.

From right to left, the statues are of: Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, one of India's founding founders and major political figures; Mother Theresa, who spent most of her life ministering to the poor and sick; and Pelé, football superstar.

I can't even tell you how cool I find this trio. If American Idol had these three as the judges, I would definitely watch it.

I prefer the bees

2009-11-12T01:16:00.001+05:30

Look what I found near the ceiling above my dinner table.

Where is that can of Lizard-b-gone when you need it...

Swarm, Baby Swarm!

2009-11-06T12:16:00.003+05:30

It’s bee season here in India. And by “bee” I mean giant finger sized killer wasps. These jerks are so big that they make an audible thud noise when they bang against my patio windows.

Charming.

It’s a little hard to see from this photo, but there are about one bajillion bees swarming outside my apartment. And that can only mean one thing; some lucky tenant is about to have a hive form on their porch. I understand from my neighbors that this happens every year. I also understand that the preferred method of eliminating these hives is to set fire to them. No, I'm not kidding... it literally is a bee inferno.

Summer Vacation: Part 3

2009-10-31T21:47:00.005+05:30

I wrapped up my summer vacation bonanza in Oman. Again, this is not a place that, in the past, I would have typically travel to... That said, Oman rates as one of the best places I've ever been.

The trip started in Muscat, the capital of Oman, where we spent a couple of days. Muscat is a beautiful town, right on the Gulf of Oman. I spent some time in the souqs (markets) and museums, but far and away, the highlight of Muscat is the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque. It was built by the current Sultan of Oman, whom it turns out is a pretty civic-minded guy. The Mosque contains the world's largest rug (covering 47,000 square feet) and the world's largest chandelier (that's 46 feet tall). But to reduce the Mosque to these features misses the overarching greatness of the place. The mosque is also a center of learning, for men and women, open to all faiths and nationalities.

From Muscat we struck out for the open desert, stopping at several cool forts along the way. This was my first real trip into the desert, and it was truly fantastic. It's hard to describe how desolate and enthralling the desert is; mountains of sand sweeping as far as you can see into the horizon. While there, I had a chance to: watch the sun set into the sand; go racing through the dunes in our Land Rover (our guide let me take a turn behind the wheel; it's a little like driving in snow); sleep outside at night under the stars; and watch giant green sea turtles lay eggs and baby sea turtles return to the ocean (it was like I was on a National Geographic special).

From the desert the trip turned to water. I had a chance to swim in an actual desert oasis, go cave diving in a hidden cave lagoon, and swim in a gigantic sinkhole (a place where fresh water and sea water meet, forming a natural swimming pool). The trip ended with a drive up into the Oman mountains and a visit to a few more historic forts.

I did stuff in Oman that I never imagined I'd do ~ or even want to do. It was amazing (Omazing?). And, I'll definitely be coming back to the middle east again...

Anyone interested in going to Jordan with me?

Summer Vacation Part 3: Oman

I Do(n't)

2009-10-28T23:11:00.006+05:30

Weddings are a big deal in India... a BIG deal.

I haven't yet managed to get invited to one, but sooner or later I will. I've got a fair number of single team members of ripe marrying age, and sooner or later their families will get around to arranging a union. And that means I'll get to see an Indian wedding firsthand; the ceremonies, the food, the clothes; the party. The whole deal sounds pretty fantastic.

But until that fateful day, I'll have to live vicariously. And this week I had a good opportunity when the "house" (a.k.a. crazy giant mansion) that's wedged between my apartment block and the neighborhood slum had a wedding party. It was a huge affair; the football arena next door (there are no zoning laws in India) was converted into a parking lot, and traffic still spilled out everywhere. I wasn't invited ~ jerks! ~ but I was able to spy a little from my patio. The place was so lit up that I'm sure it could be seen from space.

It almost makes me want to get married.

A-L-M-O-S-T.

Pimp My Couch

2009-10-26T19:08:00.001+05:30

I inherited a couch a few months back. It was free, and free is always good. But, it was also, shall we say, distressed. Stained actually. All over the place. And one of the legs was broken. And there was a big rip in it. But it’s comfortable, and did I mention free?

Well, I finally got off duff and decided to make the couch a little less distressed... Honestly, I was inspired by my neighbor who got a couple of chairs reupholstered. I used with the same company (a.k.a. some random guy), who completed the work in two very short days, turning my couch from nasty to nice. The leg is still broken-ish (it appears that he tried to fix it). And, one of the seams isn’t centered, giving the couch a pleasant, yet lopsided look. But it looks a million times better; so much so that I think I may bring it home with me when I leave. You gotta love the magic of India!

Summer Vacation: Part 2

2009-10-25T17:44:00.006+05:30

The second leg of my summer vacation (now completed about a month ago) was to Bhutan...

Bhutan is fantastic. Fantastic squared... Super Fantastico... you get the idea.

Bhutan is a fairly unusual destination. The country itself is tiny, both in size and population. More people live in my neighborhood here in Bangalore than in the whole country of Bhutan. They just got democracy 18 months ago; before that Bhutan was a monarchy. The country is fairly difficult to get into to; you need a special visa from the government and are required to travel with a guide and driver the entire time you're there. The whole country (I'm not exaggerating) doesn't take credit cards of any kind, meaning I had to pay for everything via a crazy wire transfer and simply hope for the best. All of the buildings in the country are required to be built with a traditional appearance. And the locals are required to wear native dress when doing anything official (like going to a government office, or a temple, or a school, or even work). The country is also almost completely rural: mountains, pine forests, streams and waterfalls everywhere you go.

Two highlights clearly stand out for me... First, the hike up to Tigers Nest monastary. Like nearly all of the monastaries and temples in Bhutan, Tigers Nest is still a working facility with monks living there. It took a morning-long hike up a mountain to get there, but it was worth it. Tigers Nest rates as one of the best places I've been in my life. Second, I happened to be in Bhutan during festival season. Nearly the entire country (seriously) turns out for the big festival in Thimphu, and I was lucky enough to see it.

Bhutan is not normally the type of travel I do. I have a clear preference for cities, museums, etc. But somehow, Bhutan worked for me. I think it was the way everything in the country felt completely original and completely authentic. Somehow they've managed to preserve a fairly traditional way of life while at the same time (slowly, carefully) embracing modernity. The country has placed a national premium on well being, coming up with something called a "Gross National Happiness." index. In most places I think this would simply be lip service. But Bhutan truly was one of the happiest places I've ever been.

If you've ever considered going, the best advice I can give you is: do it!

Bhutan 10/25/09 7:50 PM

Oman

2009-10-16T15:15:00.000+05:30

I'm in Oman, two days into my five day adventure.. I continue to be completely entertained by this country, the people, and the way life creeps in to the desert.

F.Y.I.- fresh dates are my new favorite food.

Brindavan

2009-10-10T08:58:00.000+05:30

I went out of station (a.k.a. out of town) for a work trip. We went to Brindavan Gardens, a small resort just outside of Mysore. It was once the site of many Bollywood movies, back in the day. Today the gardens are somewhat rundown from neglect, but you can still get a sense of their former grandeur...

Summer Vacation: Part 1

2009-10-08T21:28:00.004+05:30

I just came back from my summer vacation, and it was fantastic...

The first part of my trip was a circuit through north India: Jaipur; Agra and the Taj Mahal; Amritsar and the Golden Temple; and Delhi. I hadn't yet traveled to North India, so it was great to see a swath of the country that was new to me. The theme of this trip was: amazing. It all started in Jaipur...

Jaipur is a great town, one that I will definitely return to. There are historical forts galore, as well as cool shopping (rugs, ceramic ware, creepily cool Rajasthani puppets, etc). One day in Jaipur was spent exploring the Amber Fort, one of the old Moghul palaces. Considering that it's 400 years old, the Fort is in amazing condition. One particularly cool feature of the fort is the Hall of Mirrors, a huge room that's decorated with thousands of tiny mirrors set in intricate designs. Another day in Jaipur was spent exploring the city proper, including Jantar Mantar, or the Jaipur Observatory. The place is essentially a science museum that was built hundreds of years ago. Despite it's age, the instruments are still accurate measures of time, date, and astronomy.

After Jaipur, I moved on to Agra, home of the Taj Majal. The Taj is everything you expect it to be, and yet somehow more. The complex around the Taj is huge, and despite the sweltering heat that day, I found it hard to leave. The Taj itself is amazing, and, on its own, is entirely worth making a trip all the way to India to see. Though the entrance fee is robbery by Indian standards (locals pay USD 10 cents, foreigners pay USD $15), you get with it a bottle of water, which you'll desperately need, and a pair of hospital-style booties to wear inside the complex. Security is somewhat tight at the Taj, and I almost wasn't allowed in when they discovered my gum and my keys. Apparently they were worried that I would stick my gum on the tomb and key the joint up on my way out... There aren't any storage lockers near the entrance, so I wound up giving both items to a local kid who called himself Johnny standing around outside the gate. I didn't really care about the gum, and the keys had no identifying marks on them so they were useless to anyone sans me. But, the key chain attached to the keys... that I've had for over 20 years and for some reason I'm oddly connected to it, despite my friends' insistence that I should throw it out. I had very little (read: no) faith that I would get it back, a trade off I was glad to make in exchange for seeing the Taj. But, to my surprise, Johnny was waiting for me at the exit gate when I returned. All the whole affair cost me was a bottle of water, which I again desperately needed (did I mention it was hot?) and a 20 Rupee tip for him. Not bad.

From Jaipur I went to Amritsar. The primary (really, only) appeal of Amritsar is the Golden Temple, the holiest place in the world for Sikhs. The temple is, again, amazing. The entire top half of the building is covered in gold (thus the name) and is surrounded by a man made lake, which is in turn surrounded by a white marble fortress. I had to take my shoes off, wash my feet, and cover my head to gain entrance. But the Temple accepts all visitors assuming they do those things, and I felt completely welcome the entire time I was there. I actually made two separate trips to the temple; once at sundown and again the next day right after sunrise. The temple looked quite different, during the different times of day.

From Amritsar I went to Delhi, the nation's capital. Delhi was not at all what I expected; clean, quiet, efficient. The city was totally charming. I had a chance to see several great museums while I was there, including Gandhi Smriti; the place of Gandhi's assassination. I was worried that, given the subject matter, the museum would be depressing. But the designers did an amazing (there's that word again) job telling the story of Gandhi, from birth to death, and the impact he had on the Indian country and its people. The museum is a stop I'd recommend to anyone visiting the city.

From Delhi I went on to Bhutan. I'll tell you all about it... just as soon as I sort through my 500 pictures, that is.

Summer Vacation 2009 - Part 1

Bruce in Delhi

2009-09-23T20:15:00.000+05:30

I've arrived in Delhi, on the next leg of my summer vacation. Jaipur, Agra, and Amritsar were all enjoyable. I'll be here for a few days before I head off to Bhutan.

Tomorrow I plan to museum hop, and then hang out at the pool. Tonight I'm having dinner at the Chinese restaurant in my hotel. It's pretty nice. But apparently they feel bad that I'm eating alone. So they put a fish at my table to keep me company.

He doesn't have much to say. And, he's got a big fishpoop hanging out of him. But, lord knows I've had worse dinner dates, so I'm not complaining.

I think I'll call him Bruce.

Wow

2009-09-19T14:20:00.000+05:30

I really can't say anything other than WOW...

Ptttttthhhhhhhhhbbbbbbbb!

2009-09-17T23:11:00.003+05:30

FYI, that's the sound of annoyance. It's been a long couple of weeks. Work has been brutal since my return. My body is still falling apart. I'm still popping ibuprofen by the caseload. But I don't care...

Why?

Because I'm going on vacation. I just have to make it through half a day of work tomorrow, and then I'm off to see some of India's best sights, including the Taj Mahal. And then, as if that weren't enough, I'm headed to Bhutan! That's right, I said B-H-U-T-A-N baby! The "land of the thunder dragon" ~ home of the Gross National Happiness index. I'll be traveling for two weeks, and I couldn't be more excited.

And (yes there IS more)... It's festival season here in India. There are four holidays in the next four weeks, including Diwali ~ the festival of lights. In celebration, the whole city is getting all tarted up, including the mosque near my house.*

How can you not love that?

* Look, I know there are a dozen things wrong with that whole paragraph, including at least a few things that will get me stoned (not the happy kind, but the rock-thrown-at-you kind). But you're the one who decided to read this lame excuse for a blog, so cut me some slack...

Trashy and Happy

2009-09-09T21:10:00.006+05:30

My return to BLR hasn't exactly been smooth...

I've been gimpy because of my back. It's getting better, as measured by the amount of ibuprofen I'm consuming (down from "enough to kill an elephant" to just "enough to kill a cow"), but it still ain't normal. My kitchen got flooded while I was in MSP, because of a leak in my (brand new) water cooler. My driver got "demoted" because he took my trip to the US as an opportunity to skip out of work for the entire month, and then lie about his absence when confronted by his supervisor, saying that I had come back early but just didn't go to work and that's why they didn't see him or me there. And, it turns out that I've been saying my new driver's name wrong the last two days and he didn't have the heart (courage? interest?) to correct me.

Good times.

On the plus side, I finally unpacked all that crap I brought back from MSP in my overstuffed luggage. In the flotsam I found the jumbo box of flexible straws I purchased. I know, I know... flexible (a.k.a. bendy) straws are for children, very young children, and adults that use them are trashy. But I love them. There is nothing better than conveniently sipping a stiff drink from any angle to cap off an achy, ibuprofen-filled day.

Cheers!

Achy Breaky Back

2009-09-07T06:03:00.004+05:30

So, my return to BLR hasn't been as easy as I had hoped...

At some point while I was in MSP, I hurt my back. Not badly, but enough so that I was popping ibuprofen like candy. Well, between 20 hours of flying and lugging around my crazy heavy luggage, I managed to make it worse. On Friday things boiled over, and I actually couldn't stand. Nothing says pathetic like crawling ~ literally ~ from my bed to the kitchen so I could get the jumbo bottle of ibuprofen that I brought back with me from the US, resting on the floor in the kitchen, and then crawling back to the bed.

I spent the rest of the weekend in bed... Normally this would suck, but add to that jet lag, and it has meant that I've spent the whole weekend feeling achy and then sleeping at stupid times. Which lead me to this morning at 3am, when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep.

Work today is going to be fantastic.

ORD

2009-09-02T03:52:00.002+05:30

I'm sitting in Chicago right now, waiting for the next leg of my journey back to Bangalore to begin. In theory, my flight is on-time, and it should start boarding in a few minutes. But, when I look out the window, there is no plane attached to the end of the walkway.

This seems like a problem to me...

Oh well, I'm just happy I got my luggage through the airport in MSP. I'm not really sure when I'll return to the US again, so I snarfed up a crapload of items I can't get in BLR, including soap, non-aerosol deodorant, and fabric softener. (I'm sure the TSA agents looking through my luggage think I'm some sort of crazy smelly freak.) All three bags clocked in at just under 70 pounds. Hurray for obsessive packing!

I'm sad to be leaving all my friends and family, but it will be nice to get back to the place I call my home... Even if it is my home only for the next 18 months...

Where Am I?

2009-08-26T01:10:00.003+05:30

My time in MSP has almost come to a close. Honestly, I'm somewhat relieved...

Work has been an effing-a zoo. I came back to the US with a fairly long list of tasks to accomplish and an even longer list of work people to meet. While it's true that I enjoy my expat assignment and don't really want it to end, eventually it will. And that means I'm going to need to find some sucker who wants to hire me upon my return. And the only way that's gonna happen is if I have lots of meetings with people whenever I can, to remind them of who I am. Needless to say, I've been having LOTS of meetings the last three weeks where I talk about my skills in a very indirect (but still somewhat desperate) way... Hurray for self esteem!

That's just the work side of the equation... I also came back here with a fairly long list of non-work people to meet. While I didn't get a chance to hang out with everyone I wanted (sorry sis...), I did get to see a lot of people in a lot of different places. In the last two weekends I went to Racine ~ to see the world's cutest god-daughter ~ and Los Angeles ~ to see my oldest (as in, known her since pre-school) friend and her entertaining husband. Next weekend I'm headed to NYC to spend some quality time drinking and eating, just like in BLR, only with less cows.

That's a lot of travel in a really short window of time. So much so that when I woke up this morning it actually took me a few minutes to remember where I was. I'm not sure if that's a sign of aging. Or too much travel. Or the three gin and tonics I had with dinner.

24 hours

2009-08-07T00:58:00.003+05:30

So, I'm headed home for a business trip. I'm sitting in the BLR airport right now...

The last few weeks have been pretty obnoxious. New hires. New projects. New expectations. (oh my) Everything happened at once ~ or at least everything felt that way. The last couple of weeks have been such that I've had to work through the weekends. I know I know... "poor little expat"... Whining aside, I'm pretty relieved to be getting on a plane for a 24 hour flight. Movies. Rest. And as much food and drink as I can stuff in my piehole ~ really ain't a bad way to spend a day.

Honestly though, I am a little nervous to go back to MSP. These last five months are the longest I've ever been out of the country. Granted the life I live here is fairly charmed, and many days my life in BLR is exactly as it was in MSP. But still, I don't know how the US will feel, now that I've gotten used to the hustle(?) and bustle(!) of India. My time in the US is going to be fairly hectic too... I'm got plans on every week night and weekend between the day I land and the day I depart. It will be great to reconnect with family and friends, not to mentions shopping in a proper Target store. But, I think it will actually be relieving four weeks from now to be back on that 24 hour flight to BLR.

That said... I have found a little time to do some travel planning. The remaining months of this year will be filled with trips to Bhutan, Oman, Morocco, and Nepal. And that list is definitely worth a few lost weekends!

Lesson Learned

2009-07-15T10:09:00.003+05:30

Today I tried cutting my own hair... and learned that it's much harder to do than it looks.

I don't know why I did it. It surely wasn't as a way to save money, because my last haircut only cost me $1. I think I was tempted by "this looks easy enough" syndrome.

In my defense, I think I could have pulled it off successfully had I had two things. One ~ a hand mirror so I could see the back of my head. Since this is really the only part of my head where I can successfully grow hair anymore, it's fairly essential to see that portion. Two ~ a fully charged shaver. Turns out that when I started this adventure, 10 minutes before I was about to leave for work, the shaver was almost completely out of juice.

Needless to say, I won't be taking any photos of the end product. But trust me when I say that it ain't pretty... Guess I'll be making an "emergency" trip to the barber today. Hurray!

I'll Take $7 of Mush Please

2009-07-11T17:16:00.004+05:30

I failed in my attempt to get more cereal this weekend. The store was, once again, mysteriously out of stock, despite the abundance that existed last week. Oh well, I've got enough stockpiled to keep me in high fibre goodness for a fair while.

However, I did find Oreo's at the store. I wasn't a fan of Oreo's in the US. The minty Newman-O's are a completely different story. But, I'll save that tale of obsession for another day. Anyway, when I saw the Oreo's in the store, I immediately put them in my cart. I've purchased a few things now from the store (Pop Tarts, Doritos, Pepperidge Farm Cookies) that I never ate in the US simply because they remind me of home.

Well, that same impulse drove me to buy the Oreo's. But when I got them home and opened the package, I found the cookies looked as if they had been trampled. By angry cows. Repeatedly. I had a couple, but it was hard to enjoy something that looked so messed up, especially when I didn't even like them in the first place. Now they are in the garbage, and I am $7 poorer (imports have a hefty mark-up). But at least I now know that Oreo's don't travel well. I suppose that's worth something...

Gimme Gimme More

2009-07-06T20:11:00.003+05:30

I’ve become a hoarder.

I wasn’t a hoarder before I moved to BLR, but I’ve definitely become one since. Here’s the deal…. The supply chain (I’m a retail nerd, so I’m entitled to use terms like that) is crazy unreliable here. When I lived in the US I got accustomed to being able to buy something pretty much whenever I wanted it. And with the exception of seasonal items ~ like my beloved Cadbury Easter Egg ~ that practice worked without fail. Not so, here. One day there is a mountain of something in the store (for example: Corn Flakes) and then the next day that something is gone, as if it never existed.

I can take some solace in the fact that I only hoard “necessities” and not tchotchkes or music boxes or whatnot. But, that doesn’t mean the items I’m hoarding aren’t disturbing in their own way.

For example, since moving to BLR, fibre (a.k.a. fiber) has become an extremely important part of my diet. For reasons related to decency and modesty (not to mention just plain grossness), I won’t elaborate on why fibre is so important to me. But needless to say, my diet now involves large quantities of fibre every single day. And one of my preferred methods of getting fibre is at breakfast. The endlessly clever folks at Kellogg’s have come up with the perfect product for me: High Fibre Bran Flakes. Despite the awful name, the cereal is actually pretty good.

But my Flakes have been out of stock in BLR for the last month or so. I’ve sent my driver everywhere to try and find it, with no success. So, last night when I was at the grocery store and the Flakes were back in stock, I kind of went crazy. And by crazy, I mean I bought 13 boxes. I would have got more had it not been for the fact that my cart was full.

Next week, god willing, I’ll score another 13 boxes. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?

What Would Julia Do?

2009-06-29T18:38:00.005+05:30

I tried cooking tonight. Tried, and failed.

India doesn't use western style gas ranges, where the gas is magically piped into the house from some unknown place outside the house. In India, homes have big propane tanks in one room with a rubber hose that runs to a range in the kitchen. The whole setup seems kind of scary to me. I mean, it has all of the makings of a cartoon explosion just waiting to happen. Add to that the seemingly important fact that in my apartment, the hose leaks. So, I've never used the range; I've just left it shut off the whole time I've been here.

Consequently, all the food I've consumed these last four months was either prepared in a microwave, a toaster over, a restaurant that delivers, or a cereal bowl. Which has been fine up until now, but lately I've been craving some pasta. So in an attempt to conquer my fears (and expand my food options), I decided to try cooking tonight.

I came home early today, excited to actually make some food. It turns out that I don't have a pot large enough to cook pasta, but that didn't deter me. Sadly, what did deter me was the fact that all the propane leaked out of the gas canister.

So... tonight's dinner was a bowl of cereal. And tomorrow my driver will be getting a new gas canister from the gas canister fairy (or wherever it is that the canisters come from). With any luck I'll be cooking my pasta by week's end.

Julia Child would be so proud...

The Mayor of Movietown

2009-06-27T10:53:00.003+05:30

I went to a movie last night.

I've been to a couple of other movies since I moved here, but they were at the "Gold Class" theater. The Gold Class is as nice as it sounds; gigantic Lay-Z-Boy chairs, a waiter bringing you snacks, a private lounge for intermission. In my defense, I first went to the Gold Class theater on accident; I just thought it was a normal theater until I got inside it. And the second time, it was the only theater showing what I wanted to see.

But last night's movie was showing at the regular multiplex a few blocks from my apartment. So, I decided to check it out. Here's what I learned about seeing a movie in a regular theater in India...

Indians like to sit in the back of the theater. Seats are assigned in India. And the theater was only about 1/3 full. But all of us were in the last five rows of the theater. Literally every seat was taken in those rows, and every seat in the front part of the theater was open.
Indians have no compunction about talking at full volume during a movie.
Indians love to eat during movies. Not snacks as I'm used to them (Goobers and a 64 oz Mountain Dew) but full meals. And, at intermission, guys come walking around with boxes of popcorn and candy strapped to them, like some sort of 1960's Let's All Go To The Lobby flashback.
The Indian national anthem plays before movies. It's approximately 17 minutes long, and is sung by people whom I'm assuming are nationally important, but to me just look (and sound) like Ed Koch.

Infant Jesus Laundry

2009-06-20T17:49:00.001+05:30

Because even the king of kings needs clean clothes...

Flowbee No More

2009-06-18T21:18:00.006+05:30

I think I've found a new barber...

I was in love with my old place in Minneapolis: Glenn’s Barber Shop (that’s not me in the picture). Glenn’s is a father and son place, now just run by the son ~ Dan. Dan is the only barber who works there now. He doesn’t take appointments. The cuts cost $15, and include entertaining conversation. He keeps you honest, and has been known to charge extra for a comb over. And, if you know where to look, he keeps a stack of nudey magazines to read. In short, he’s the perfect barber. When I go back to MPLS this summer one of the first things I plan to do is go get a proper haircut.

I say proper because I’ve been without a good haircut since I arrived in Bangalore. For a while I was going to a “salon” which seemed like overkill given the tiny amount of hair I actually have. I’m mean, I don’t actually need a shampoo and conditioner wash, scalp massage, and blow dry by a stylist who carried around his own blow drier in his belt while thumping Indian disco-pop blared in the background. I gave it a try because it was where all the other expats were going, and because it only cost Rs 850 with tip ~ about $17 USD.

But I could never get over the fact that everyone else in the joint had model hair with lots of highlights and styling products and faux-hawks and whatnot, whereas I had do that looked like it came out of a Flowbee. And, the last time I went there the guy literally shaved my entire head, so that I looked like a middle-aged army recruit. After that, I swore off the salon.

So this week I tried a new place. They were strictly old school there. Nothing but scissors and straight-edge razors. When he was done, he even applied a little Old Spice behind my ears. Classy. The haircut wasn't great, but at a total cost of about Rs 70 ($1.40 USD), it definitely ranks as my new favorite place.

So Long, Farewell, blah blah blah

2009-06-15T13:34:00.002+05:30

This weekend saw the unexpected departure of one of the Expat Posse… He was stuck between a rock (work) and a hard place (personal life) and made the only reasonable decision available to him when put in that position ~ err on the personal life side.

Though I am sad to see him go (he really knew how to get a party started) I am happy that I’ve inherited a bunch of his junk. I now have more plants in my apartment than a tropical jungle, a terrible/cool mirror/statue of Ganesha, and a really comfortable (yay!) but highly stained (gross!) couch… nothing a little slip cover won’t fix.

Since his departure was unplanned, there wasn’t the normal weekend-long send off that normally happens. Instead there was a hasty but pleasant dinner at one of the swankier restaurants near our apartment complex. All of the swank restaurants in BLR are basically the same swank restaurants that you’d find in NYC or LA (including the over-inflated prices), with just a slightly larger emphasis on Indian cuisine. However, this place did have a super nice feature that I haven’t seen before: light up tables. During the entire meal the table kept changing colors, rotating from one psychedelic hue to the next. It was mildly trippy, but great nonetheless.

Israel

2009-06-11T20:55:00.006+05:30

I went to Israel last week, to celebrate my birthday. The destination is somewhat unexpected, but I had a friend who was going to school there, so it worked out perfectly.

I'm not an overly religious guy. In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, I should admit that I no more believe I god than I do the easter bunny (sorry Mom, it's true). I grew up going to church. Every Sunday, no matter how hard I tired skipping. Sometimes we went to two services, just for good measure. Plus bible camps in summer. Plus a Lutheran college. Plus a Catholic graduate program. All that and yet still I prefer to spend my Sundays reading the New York Times and watching bad TV.

I still like going to church, from time to time. But now it's more about the pomp of it all, than it is to worship. I know ~ this makes me a total heathen. Que sera sera.

Anyway, I disclose this to clarify that going to the nexus of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam wasn't a hajj for me ~ it was more of a cultural experience. And on that front, Israel totally delivered.

Getting to Israel from BLR was fairly hard. I wound up flying to Dubai, and spending the night there. Two words best describe Dubai: Hot (it was a balmy 120 degrees) and gaudy. But, as layovers go, I've had worse. The hotel I stayed at had an "authentic" english pub, including cider. So mostly my experience with Dubai involved going to the mall to buy the swimtrunks I forgot to pack, and drinking cider(s) in the hotel bar. That said, I'm pretty sure I still managed to get the full Dubai experience.

From Dubai I flew to Amman Jordan, then on to Tel Aviv, and finally cabbed it to Jerusalem where I met up with my friends. We spent the first four days in Jerusalem, entirely inside the Old City, exploring. I saw the wailing wall, the Dome of the Rock, and walked the Way of Sorrows (a.k.a. the stations of the cross) where I showed my piety by buying a pair of sunglasses. Did I mention that I'm a heathen? We also took a side trip to see and float in the Dead Sea, which is an experience I highly recommend. The water is so salty that it doesn't even feel like water anymore. It's also so boyent that I was able to "stand" completely upright in the water, without moving, and without using my feet to touch the bottom.

From Jerusalem we moved on to Tel Aviv, which was refreshingly cosmopolitan, clean, and quiet ~ especially in comparison to BLR. It was nice. The actual night of my birthday I had a swanky thai dinner, tried absinthe (it was horrible), and ended up at a bar called Minerva. I'll let you guess the target audience for that joint (hint: it wasn't me). Nonetheless, the music was was awesome, and it was tons of fun.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that throughout the entire country there was an implicit threat of discord and violence. In Jerusalem I saw palestinian (I assume) and jewish kids fighting; and when the kids couldn't resolve the issue, the parents simply joined right in. Army officers with brandished machine guns were EVERYwhere. Regular security guards ~ people I'd normally call rent-a-cops ~ were also omnipresent, all with their own guns. Add to that the somewhat invasive security precautions at restaurants, historical sites, even the malls... It's hard to miss the irony of such a religious place also being such a violent place.

Aside from the cold I contracted on my way home, and the totally screwed up experience I had with airport security when I was trying to exit the country, it was a great trip. It was the kind of trip that makes me realize how fortunate I am... Friends. Health. And the ability to see the world. I don't think it gets much better than that...

Israel

Sooooo Tired

2009-06-08T20:21:00.002+05:30

I made it back from Israel this morning... The trip was a lot of fun, and it was a thoroughly entertaining way to spend my birthday.

Highlights include: finding (and drinking) cider in Dubai, floating in the Dead Sea, dinner on a rooftop cafe in Jerusalem, and eating a mountain of desserts in Tel Aviv.

My flight back home was somewhat painful. I made a bad decision passing through airport security in Tel Aviv, when I discarded a sticker I shouldn't have (in my defense, it had fallen off of my bag), and wound up experiencing the less enjoyable side of Israeli hospitality.

I can also now state that the airport in Amman (Jordan) is a total armpit. It's not as bad as Chicago mind you, but still, it ain't enjoyable. Conversely, the airport in Dubai is so spectacular as to be obscene.

Now all I need to do is try and get over the jetlag. I've been thinking about going to sleep since 5pm (my flight was overnight, with three stops, so I haven't really slept in two days). I'm hoping to make it just a few more hours. I know... it's not an ambitious goal, but it's all I've got in me.

Whereas before I had no justification ~ but my total lameness ~ for my early-to-bed habits, now at least I can blame my advanced aging.

Hurray! I think...

Say what?

2009-05-27T20:01:00.003+05:30

I've been here three months, and have only learned two words of Hindi; guru ~ dispeller of darkness, and kana ~ food (makes you wonder what I've been up to, right?). Certainly laziness explains my lack of learning, in part. But more importantly, nearly every person I interact with at work, in public places, or on the street, has a strong to passable command of English.

That's not to say however, that it is easy for me to communicate. There are loads and loads of words that are used here to describe things I don't think they should describe... I'm not complaining, mind you. It keeps me on my toes. And, sometimes, it cracks me right up.

Here are a few of the words I enjoy most:

Minute ~ to take notes. As in: "I'll minute the meeting."

Native ~ hometown. As in: "This weekend I'm going to my native."

Cabin ~ an office. As in: "In my native, we call this a cube, not a cabin."

Needful ~ take care of it. As in: "Your shoe is untied. Please do the needful."

Club ~ group together. As in: "Let's club those two drinks into one."

Revert ~ get back to me. As in: "I need those drinks clubbed. Please revert when you've done the needful."

12.5%

2009-05-21T17:56:00.002+05:30

I’ve completed my first 90 days in Bangalore. That means I’m 12.5% into my assignment. I’m having a hard time deciding if that’s a LOT of time, or a LITTLE…

For example, during my short time here, I’ve already made four trips. Next week, I’m taking my fifth trip, to Tel Aviv, to celebrate my birthday. That’s a pretty impressive count, in comparison to my schedule last year which was virtually non-existent. In other words, that’s a huge amount of travel in a TINY amount of time.

Even so… if everything goes as planned, I’ll visit 14 more destinations spread across 6 countries in the next nine months. The majority of these trips are small weekend affairs, similar to what I’ve been doing so far. But there are a couple of larger trips in there, including Kathmandu, Marrakech, and Bhutan. (I think the word that best describes this list is: WOOHOO!) While that’s a pretty impressive list, it only covers about 25% of what I actually want to do, but takes 50% of my remaining time. How is it possible that this MUCH time has already passed when I still have so much to see?

Or ~ if you look at the number of times I’ve experienced “intestinal distress” during my time here, it seems impossible that I’ve only been here for three SHORT months (as opposed to, say, 300 months). Compared to the LOOOOONG time it’s been since I had BBQ pizza, cider, and a vegan peanut butter bar with my friends.

I guess all of this is just way of saying that there’s no easy way to quantify my experiences so far.

I think I’m OK with that.

Cochin

2009-05-18T21:14:00.003+05:30

I went to Cochin this weekend, in the way-down-south of India.

Cochin is known for antiques ~ mountains of old British furniture, as well as traditional Indian furniture that's been scavenged from throughout the country. It's also a beautiful, quiet fishing town right on the coast. And, continuing with the theme from my other recent travels, it's hot hot haaaawwwwt. But, I've gotten comfortable with being a sloppy, stinky, sweaty mess in public, so I'm noticing the heat less and less. I'm not sure that's good for my dignity, but oh well...

I got into Cochin on Friday, and spent the day checking out the old part of town along the fishing coast. It was pretty beautiful, when it wasn't swarmed with the (literal) boatload of tourists that had just arrived on a cruise ship. The old part of town is a bit run down, but has a really nice charm about it nonetheless. It also has a smell of of fish about it. And since I'm not a big fan of fish (insert joke here), I wound my way back to the hotel and enjoyed a nice dinner before retiring at the truly pathetic hour of 9pm.

I made up for my sloth on Saturday though with a chockablock day of antiquing. For the record, I'd like to think of it more as "looking at cool old furniture" than "antiquing" ~ but in the interest of honesty I figure I should probably call it what it is... I would also like to point out that before India, I have never been antiquing before. That said, my day of antiquing was totally entertaining. You can't believe the huge diversity of old furniture that the British left behind. On top of that, there is a mountain of furniture/carvings/doors representing just about every variety of Indian culture and design. The whole city is kind of like a big museum, but instead of caring for the art in a climate controlled environment, it all just gets tossed helter skelter into dusty warehouses. It's sort of like that scene in Indiana Jones where the Arc gets stored in the government warehouse. Except Harrison Ford was nowhere to be found. And, as near as I can tell, my soul wasn't burned out of me.

Though I had absolutely no intention of doing so, I wound up buying a couple of trunks. Dowry chests, in fact. You know, in case I ever need to buy my way into a wedding... They are awesome, and include hidden compartments and crazy carvings. Everything you need to hide your stash from the one you love.

I'm not really sure where I'm going to put them once they get delivered, but I figure I've got weeks to solve that problem...

Cochin

So Trashy

2009-05-14T18:26:00.002+05:30

I had a tough day at work today... Not a "real" tough day. Nobody shot at me. Nothing I did will kill anybody. I didn't harm the earth in any way (except for that plastic bottle I drank out of). This was a "corporate" bad day. Lots of ugly meetings and scurring about trying to get things done. I know ~ poor me.

I'm consoling myself tonight by listening to the Beastie Boys, eating garlic-flavored cashews, and sucking down Cranberry Bicardi Breezers (my new favorite drink).

I know Breezers are trashy; the Zima of the modern era. But I don't care. They're totally tasty, and way easier than actually mixing up a real vodka-cranberry. All that pesky measuring and pouring really gets in the way of my enjoyment.

So, tonight I embrace my inner trailer park. Tomorrow I'll pretend to be civilized again...

O Fortuna(?)

2009-05-13T22:36:00.002+05:30

I had a tarot reading tonight.

I didn't really intend for it to happen, but one thing lead to another, and before I knew it I was having my fortune read by someone who looked about half my age and seemed even less sure of this whole thing than I was.

The night started simply enough. One of the other expats has a couple of dogs that she rescued some time back. And, I have been going through significant dog withdrawal since I parted ways with Harry. So, I went over to her place tonight to spend some serious quality time with her pooches. And, you know, hang out with her and stuff too.

But when I got there, in addition to the pooches, she also had a tarot reader over who was revealing the mysteries of life for a few friends. Sort of like a tupperware party, 86 the plastic, sub the future.

After everyone else went, I decided to give it a whirl. It was... interesting. Most of the session seemed completely hokey, and contained the kind of advice I'd expect to get out of a fortune cookie. But, a couple of the things revealed (guessed?) seemed to ring true for me. Of course, they were all nice sounding things that I wanted to happen, so the chances that I'll argue with the fates aren't very high.

I don't know that I'll do it again. But, like skydiving, I'm happy to have tried it once.

Time Really is Money

2009-05-10T19:20:00.002+05:30

I finally purchased a digital alarm clock this weekend... I bought a novelty alarm clock shortly after I arrived in BLR. But, it was heavy on the novelty, and light on the alarm clock.

I know this may seem a little OCD, but I need to be able to see the time in the middle of the night. If I wake up in the middle of the night, and I can't tell what time it is, I just lay in bed wondering if I should get up? Maybe I've overslept? Maybe my alarm will go off in 10 minutes and I'll wish I'd just gotten up when I had the chance? Maybe I forgot to set my alarm and this karma reminding me? Maybe I'm just crazy?

Anyway ~ the point is that I needed a digital alarm clock. But, for reasons I don't really get, Indians don't have them. Anywhere. BLR is a technology hub with a fairly cosmopolitan population. And yet I've been to dozens of electronics stores, big and small, and NONE of them had a digital alarm clock.

So, when I happened on one yesterday, it took me about 10 seconds to decide to buy it. The only problem with it was the GINORMOUS price tag. See, it's not just an alarm clock. It's also a digital photo frame, with an alarm clock crammed into it for good measure. In the US, I could have purchased 10 completely satisfactory alarm clocks for what I paid for this one.

But in the end my dysfunctional need to know the time trumped my dysfunctional focus on my budget. Here's hoping for sweet budget-free dreams tonight, and an accurate wake-up call tomorrow morning...

Varanasi

2009-05-06T20:50:00.006+05:30

I went to Varanasi this weekend with a bunch of other expats. If you ever have the opportunity ~ I totally recommend going!

Varanasi is located in the north of India, about 4 hours flying time from Bangalore (not counting the somewhat obnoxious layover in Delhi). You might be thinking to yourself that the climate would be somewhat moderate that far north. You'd be wrong.

Temperatures got up to an asstastic 43C ~ which is around 109 Fahrenheit. It was so hot that when I got off the plane I experienced a confusing moment where I thought somehow the plane's jet engine was venting exhaust on me. Then I realized that the "exhaust" was in fact just the "breeze." The only place I've ever been that was hotter than Varanasi was Tempe, Arizona. Luckily, unlike Tempe, Varanasi isn't a raging craphole.

When we got to the hotel, it was way too hot to go out into the sun, and torpor was threatening to drive everyone to nap. So we spent a few hours lounging around by the pool, hiding under umbrellas and consuming large amounts of Corona ~ you know, to stay hydrated and all. By early evening, things had cooled off enough to allow us to venture out to see the city. This included some exploration of the tiny alleys and byways of the city. But, for the most part, the draw of Varanasi is the Ganges river ~ one of the most holy spots in the world for both Hindus and Buddhists. As such, we spent most of our trip on or around the river. Friday night, we took a boat ride down the Ganges to view the many temples located along the river. We also had a chance to see the cremation process that Hindus observe, as part of their final rights. It was a little unsettling, but mostly beautiful. The night ended with an evening prayer ceremony, viewed from the boat.

Saturday morning we got up before dawn so we could see sunrise on the river. The difference between the river at night, when tourists (Indian and non-Indian alike) dominate the scene, and the river during the day, when locals dominate the scene, couldn't be more pronounced. It was great to see people using the river the way it had been used for thousands of years; as a place to bathe, as a place to pray, as a place to meditate, as a play to do your laundry, and as a place to say goodbye to your dead. Amongst the activities, I tried my hand at rowing the boat. Afterall, how often is it that you have a chance to row a boat on the Ganges? Turns out that rowing is much harder than it looks.

By about noon the temperatures had turned obscene again. So we spent the rest of the day poolside. I actually spent six continuous hours in the pool ~ something I haven't done since I was a kid. Of course, when I was a kid I didn't have the luxury of ordering drinks and snacks from inside the pool...

Sunday morning we spent a little more time in the pool, and then headed back to Bangalore. All in all, it was a fantastic trip. The Ganges river is one of those places that's featured as a backdrop in a movie, or as an answer on Jeopardy. As such, I never really thought of it as a place I'd want to visit. Frankly, I never even really though about the Ganges at all until I came to India. But now that I've actually been there, I feel so fortunate. It's adventures like this one that really help put everything back into perspective.

Varanasi