The Men

Last weekend my Morris team, the Pinewoods Morris Men, had their annual Fall tour. Obviously I wasn't with them, but teammate Bill sent this picture of The (mostly) Men.



Thanks, Bill, and hi, guys!

Go, Tom Friedman!

Thomas Friedman's column in the Sunday NYTimes, 9/11 is Over, is spot on. It says, in part:

9/11 has made us stupid. I honor, and weep for, all those murdered on that day. But our reaction to 9/11 — mine included — has knocked America completely out of balance, and it is time to get things right again.

Shopping for dhotis

One of my coworkers has offered to teach me how to wear a dhoti, but before he can do that, I have to own one. So, today I set off in search of a dhoti. My general idea was to head towards Abids and hope to get lucky.  And so I did - and found myself  in Bazar Ghat, the eastern end of Rai Janakiprasad Road, west of the Hyderabad train station. There are tons of clothing stores in this area. I came home with two dhotis (@ Rs. 95 each), a lungi (Rs. 85) and a very nice hand-embroidered long khurta (Rs. 550; I probably could have pushed lower, but the price seemed reasonable...). Once I learn how to wear the dhotis (they are just large rectangles of cloth...) I'll try to get a few pictures.

The pictures I did take on today's ride have nothing to do with my shopping. I met these three creatures just around the corner from my house.





The last shot is another in the "funky sign" series. There are a lot of "famous X" stores in Hyderabad, and I'm starting to collect them.

Katy discovers Picasa

I've been after Katy to start using Picasa, instead of sending me pictures as email attachments. Well, she has - yea! Her initial albums include among many other things, some lovely shots of our garden in Cambridge and an amazing series of a praying mantis preying on a butterfly.

Wish I were there...

...to deliver this in person.

2007 Ad Hoc Ganesha Temple Tour

Today I rode around on my bike and took pictures of the Ganesha shrines that have popped up all over Hyderabad in the past week. They're all charted (well, the ones I found; I'm sure there are plenty more), with pictures, on the GPS track:


View Larger Map

Well, what ELSE can happen today?

I mean, heck, it's only 10PM - two whole hours left in this day!

As I was getting ready to hop on the bike at about noon today, my phone rang - it was Katy. Given that noon here is 2:30AM in Cambridge, I knew immediately something was up. RuthAnne, my almost-18-year-old daughter, hit a deer while driving home from a dance in western Massachusetts. She's unhurt, and the damage to the car was minimal (she was able to drive it home), but the toll on her psyche (and Katy's, and to some degree mine) is another story.

I talked to Katy for a while, until we both ran down a bit, and then I boarded the bike and headed southeast for the Paigah Tombs. I'm getting reasonably efficient at getting out of Banjara Hills and down to the Musi, but the other side is still mostly terra incognita. I plotted a path that took me through Charminar (nice to have at least one solid reference point...) and then south.

Well, the map of that area bears little relationship to reality. I realized I was heading WAY too far south and backtracked to a known position, tried again - and again - and again. Eventually I concluded I was running out of daylight and beat it on home, but what really happened is that I lost my nerve. I passed thru several clots of less-than-friendly teenage boys and just had my fill. I suddenly felt a long way from home (meaning Banjara Hills) with no local language skills and as conspicuous as I could be (an old white guy on a fancy bike, wearing a helmet!). I haven't felt like such a "foreigner" in a long time.

Here's the GPS track for the morbidly curious.


View Larger Map

I got home well before dark (maybe 5:30PM?), peeled off my sweaty clothes and took a shower. By the time I was clean and dry, the thunderstorm that had been rumbling its way in as I rode home had opened up with a downpour. This kept me in the house until 8PM or so; then I headed out to play some backgammon with Feroz and get supper.

Feroz mentioned as we were playing that there had been some sort of bridge collapse this afternoon in Hyderabad, but had no details. I didn't really think much of it; we played a few games, I went to supper and came home.

Just as I walked in the door, my mobile rang; it was Deepak from work, calling to ask if I am OK. The "bridge collapse" was the failure of the under-construction Punjagutta flyover in Nagarjuna Circle - literally a stone's throw from Chutneys, my favorite restaurant. I go through that circle frequently.

Several people from work have called me to check in. Damn. It's been some day.

I'm not all that jazzed to post today's pictures, but here they are anyway. The first batch is a slew of animals (camels and horses) that I passed approaching the river. I've only seen a few camels and NO horses, so these really caught my eye.









The next two are funky little memorials in the middle of the road. I have no idea who the first is for; the second is for Indira Gandhi.





This last is an under-construction temporary shrine to Ganesha, whose festival is on September 15th.

Visiting Raymond, Kris and Anja

Today I rode southeast into the old city to visit Raymond's Tomb and Kris 'n Anja, two women I've met via the IndiaMike web site. Here's the GPS track:


View Larger Map

and photos:

Sept 8

It was a great day to be out - slight breeze, sunny but not hot. The distance was such that I took a more direct route than I usually do, but I still found time for a few photos and detours. This sign illustrates nicely one of the symbols I see all the time around Hyderabad:



The "Swastik" is a Hindu good-luck sign, associated with the elephant-headed god Ganesha. It long predates its more sinister association with the Nazis.

This unusual structure is (was?) a Sikh gurudwara (temple).



One on of the side streets I took I found myself surrounded by musical instrument stores. On a whim I stopped into one and asked about penny whistles; I was told "no whistles. You want flute?" Evidently I did. Here's what I got for Rs. 50:



Yea - I can make music! It's actually a pretty decent whistle, though the usual cross-fingering for a flatted 7th doesn't work well at all. It claims to be in "C".

I soon crossed the river (the Musi) and came to the huge farm goods market in the old city. These are onions; there were just mountains of onions.



The air near these hot peppers was semi-toxic; my throat burned as I breathed the air near them.





From the market I pedaled south and uphill to Raymond's Tomb, where I took these shots.





What I couldn't capture adequately with the camera was the views, which were lovely, and the general peacefulness of the site.

Leaving Raymond to enjoy his rest, I biked toward Kris 'n Anja's apartment, not far away. I "met" (virtually) Anja through postings on IndiaMike, a fantastic Indian travel web site. They both work at LEPRA, an NGO that works with people affected by leprosy. They have a terrific apartment on the 5th floor of "TNR's Royal Palace". It has two bedrooms, a balcony with a great view of Hyderabad, cozy kitchen, and it seems quiet. Sigh...

We sat and chatted away the afternoon. Kris and Anja have been here for nearly a year, and are leaving to go back to London next weekend. They gifted me with their Indian Railways train schedule and the local bus route map, both appreciated. Suddenly I realized that there wasn't much daylight left. I've always been careful not to be out on my bike after dark. I don't have a headlight, and even if I did, probably a quarter of the other vehicles on the road don't, either, so it's always seemed insane to ride at night. I hurriedly excused myself and blasted down the road as quickly as I dared. By the time I reached the beginning of Road #1 in Banjara Hills it was deep twilight, and it pretty much full nighttime when I arrived at my front gate. Whew!

Tomorrow I hope to try for the Paigah Tombs in about the same neck of the woods.

Maybe I should go to Hampi?

OK, I'm getting thoroughly psyched to go to Hampi. It's not all that far from Hyderabad (under 500km), and I could go by train. Here are some links about Hampi:

• kris 'n anja's blog entry that got me started
• the IndiaMike Hampi: Everything you want to know page
• the Hampi web site that grew from the IndiaMike pages

wow.

Meanwhile, back in Hyderabad... bozos have moved into the house diagonally begind mine. Loud music and partying late into the night. Grrr...

Shantaram

This picture (now lost, and replaced with something similar...), and its caption (from Kris 'n Anja's Evil Penguin in India travel journal - via the Internet Wayback Machine - damn broken links!) brought Shantaram back to mind.

Is there anything as heartbreaking as cycle-rickshaws? No way we will let an old man cycle us around town in the 40 degree heat. Still, he's got to make a living. What can you do?

This passage, in particular, came back to me. The protagonist is taking a train ride, and is confused by the contrast between the pushing and shoving to board and the subsequent politeness during the ride. He eventually realizes:

Now, long years and many journeys after that first ride on a crowded rural train, I know that the scrambled fighting and courteous deference were both expressions of the one philosophy: the doctrine of necessity. The amount of force and violence necessary to board the train, for example, was no less and no more than the amount of politeness and consideration necessary to ensure that the cramped journey was as pleasant as possible afterwards. What is necessary? That is the unspoken but implied and unavoidable question everywhere in India.

Monsoon vs. Summer

One thing that struck me my first day back in Hyderabad was how green everything looked. Initially I chaulked it up to faulty memory - but, no, it's real. Here are two pictures of the open land behind my house, the first taken in early April, shortly after I arrived, and the second taken this afternoon. Wow.

---

---

Today's bike ride produced a few fun pictures. The first is of a little architectural feature I almost didn't notice; it's pure luck that I glanced up at the right moment. I'm sure there's a story, if only I could find it.



The next I almost missed because signs like this have become mundane to me. I stopped here to buy an extension cord, and only as I was leaving did I think to record the sign.



Finally, there was no way I would have missed this little scene.



I went riding yesterday, too, and came back with these pictures. The first two are of an attractive green spot south of Lumbini Park, on Hill Fort Road. Nothing stunning, just a nice relief from urban Hyderabad.





The next two are temples I rode by - the first rather subline, the second silly (to my Western eyes...).





Next we have the treehouse at the southwest corner of NTR Garden. I now know that it's clearly modeled after a mango tree.



The next two shots are of a work in progress, some new statues in front of the temple near the city library in Khairatabad. I'll have to keep checking back on their progress; this work wasn't even begun back in early August when I last rode by here.





Finally, I was stopped by a train after taking the previous two pictures, and I thought a picture of an Indian passenger train might be of interest.

What is friendship?

An IBM internal blog lead me to a collection of blog entries about friendship and trust that I'm still reading and digesting. Here are a few links:

• Luis Suarez's entry that kicked this off
• Stowe Boyd
• Anne Zelenka

I may write more about this later (I'm at work and have to keep this brief), but for now: my months in Hyderabad have made me more dependent on - and appreciative of - Internet contact, while at the same time shoving my face in the limitations of the Internet. Much food for thought.

Update, January 2010: Some of the links died. I was able to update the link to Stowe (not Steve, as I originally wrote) Boyd, but Anne Zelenka's link seems to be gone for good (Update: I actually found it on the Internet Wayback Machine). The closest I could find is this post from a year earlier. 

It's ironic that a post about how dependent I am on the Internet would up highlighting its fragility.

Hyderabad 2007 - Round 3

I'm back in Hyderabad. I arrived late last night via what's become my standard route on Lufthansa flights 423 (Boston to Frankfurt) and 752 (Frankfurt to Hyderabad). It's about 17 hours of flying, with a 5 hour layover. I've made frequent flier status on Lufthansa, so I was at least able to board with business class and use the comfortable business class lounge in Frankfurt - but it's still a long trip.

On the way I finished reading Shantaram, an autobiographical novel by Gregory David Roberts. It's a huge book, and I found myself pushing to get through it, after being completely enthralled by the first third. The book started off being primarily a description of life in India, and when it switched to being all about the author it lost its punch. But it's most definitely worth reading, at least through the beginning of the imprisonment at Authur Road.

My last few days in the U.S. were too busy to be particularly satisfying. Beside the inevitable last minute errands I also packed in a delightful party at my manager's home, Amelia B-G's annual birthday picnic at Walden Pond, and some angst about the Lumbini Park/Koti bombings. Lions and tigers and bears, oh, my!

Amelia's picnic - I don't know how I got so lucky, but I long chats with with Pam-I-Am and Luke.



Dan's Monday night party was also fun.



The latest Hyderabad bomb blasts, though, I could have done without. None of my friends and acquaintences were directly affected, but the city is on edge.

The air was clear for much of the second leg of the flight, and we were given nice views of Iran. As usual, pictures through the plane window are pretty lame, but what the hey. Southeastern Iran looks like Mars.



Anyway, I have to get to bed before I fall asleep at the keyboard. One last picture: Hyderabad is still giving away sunsets - "For you? No charge!" :-)

Three more nights...

...and then I return to Hyderabad for the last portion of my 6 month assignment in India. My feelings about returning are complex. Leaving my family gets harder each time I go back. And yet - Hyderabad feels like "home", too. And I think the work I'm doing with the team in Hyderabad is becoming more fruitful, and I miss my friends and coworkers very much. Argh, life!

I'll try to write soon about our hiking trip in Wyoming's Wind River range, but in the meantime, I've posted a wad of the pictures.

Wind River

Going Quiet

I used the same title earlier today in my "work" blog at IBM. Tomorrow night I will be taken to the airport, plopped onto a Lufthansa A-320 and flown to Frankfurt for breakfast. After a delighful meal, back in the bosom of the west, I'll board another rigorously-maintained German airplane and fly to Boston. Katy will meet me at terminal E, international arrivals, and we'll go the Cape for a night. I'll spend Friday night curled up with the woman I love in a soft, familiar bed and awaken at one of my favorite places in the world, probably in time to watch the sun come up over Waquoit Bay. Sunday we'll pack, and on Monday we'll all fly off to Wyoming for two weeks of hiking with Dan, Sue, Rebecca and Alex. Omygod, HOME!

This blog will pause for those two weeks; no doubt I'll dump another half gig or so of pictures into Picasa when we get back, but it may take a few days.

Leaving India this time is weird. On the one hand, I can't WAIT to get out of here (American readers who've been to India will know EXACTLY what I mean). Frankly, I'm exhausted. India is hopelessly overstimulating to a homebody like me. Curiously, India is is an incredibly easygoing place, I think, to most of its residents. When I'm cruising thru the bustees on my bike, no one seems to be in a hurry, and there are people just lounging around everywhere (although, to be fair, the women seem a lot busier than the men...). But this doesn't translate to a middle-class Westerner here on business - not even one who cruises the bustees on a bike.

On the other hand - this has, to some extent, become home. My life here has acquired rhythm. Weekdays - up by 6:30, exercise or browse, maybe call Katy, shower, eat breakfast, go to work. Arrive at the office at 9:15 or so after walking the last bit in from the road, a little sweaty and ready for water and coffee. Read mail, catch up on blogs, do some work. Lunch with Anil. More work, more coffee, maybe chat with Dan late in the day. Fill my water bottles for the night, go home, perhaps via a restaurant. Depending on the hour, play a game of backgammon with Feroz. Then home to mail, more blogs, some browsing and/or reading and then bed.

Weekends: laundry, then hop on the bike in search of something new. Come home and blog about it, go get chaat, come home and stretch and go to bed.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

I'll miss India when I'm gone - and I can't wait to go.

Osman Sagar

Another 50km day today; I completed the loop that I had intended to do yesterday, though not without the usual backtracking and detours. GPS track and photos.

I took a different route through the bustee (the word that seems to most accurately describe the dense, urban, largely poor areas I often ride through) by Mithla Nagar that shaved off a good chunk of the down and up, and I got to the Qutub Shahi tombs practically without breaking a sweat. Then the long ride west, until I reached the place that confounded me yesterday. The map clearly shows the road continuing west to the intersection with Osman Sagar Road, but it's a complete fiction. I wound around and eventually found myself headed due west on what I could see on the GPS would have been a continuation of the road that dead-ended. Yea!

But I was still a bit confused, my map doesn't go out quite this far, and I wound up heading back in toward Hyderabad on Osman Sagar Road (though I thought it was something else). I passed this lovely temple...



...and soon saw Golconda in front of me - ruh-roh, better turn around. I eventually saw a sign for Gandipet and knew I was headed the right way. Whew!

Shortly before reaching Osman Sagar an enormous bird flew directly over me and landed in a yard a short distance ahead. When I got there, I discovered it was a peacock.





Nice bird!

I soon rounded a corner, climbed a short hill and found myself looking at Osman Sagar (also known as Gandipet, though I think that's actually the name of a small town just east of it).



The water level is a lot higher this year than it was in 2005 when, when Gordon took Pete Coppenrath and I to Ocean Park and then around various places, including Osman Sagar. I stopped at a small park and walked around a bit.



They go to great lengths to keep you from getting near the water; the shoreline is fenced with barbed wire. There are also abundant signs; I wonder if this is actually true?



Getting back on the bike, I continued southeast along the shore of Osman Sagar.





This is the first body of water I've seen in India that looked even remotely appealing for swimming. I'll bet sailing on this lake would be great.

Eventually I wound up back on Chevella Road, heading for Golconda. As I approached what I think is Kali Mandir temple, there appeared to be what we would call a country fair in progress - lots of people sort of camped out, with barbecue in progress, and even some rides.



Upon reconnecting with Osman Sagar Road I turned west and threaded by way home through Golconda. I got this picture that I'll be adding to my Guns posting.



Finally, my last picture was taken in response to Katy's wondering if the rats are really as big as Ditz (our smaller cat). Warning - if photos of dead rats offend or upset you, stop reading now. This fellow is a pretty typical size, but I've seen much larger. The one-liter Nalgene bottle is there for scale. Here it comes.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
V