A few photos have been added to the posts below. I am heading into the hills (coffee plantations) today for some R&R from the cities, the latest cyclone permitting. I will be there for a few days.
Category Archives: India ’08-’09
Mysore muscles
Healing the poor denuded souls of the West is big business over here. In Goa, I sat in one restaurant and counted the adverts for yoga, therapies and relaxation etc on offer, just within eyesight: Sushana Yoga, Bhakti Yoga, Aum Yoga, Reiki Teach and Healing Yoga, Brahmani Yoga, Accelerated Healing, the Meditation Healing Centre, Eco-Retreats, Spiritual Tattoo Arts, Ayurvedic massage, even Swedish Massage (which I did consider briefly, purely on investigative grounds). All are aimed unerringly at Western visitors.
Even in Mysore, where I am spending a few days, the same pattern emerges – the hotel that I am in contains five over-sized middle-aged American Yoga-Bunnies with fixed grins, a Spanish conquistador masquerading as a Yoga Teacher in an attempt to snare the innocent young girls with his smooth mantras, an Irish-American over here seeking cheap dental treatment (not such a bad idea in fact), and a 22-year-old American boy who appears in a permanent trance, is annoyingly flexible, and arises at 4am every morning to commence his meditation. Sanity comes in the form of Swiss-Kiwis “Mars” and “Clouds” (real names Marcel and Claudia, and with an equally healthy skepticism when it comes to the spell of the Mantra) and Swiss Hanna, who have been great travel companions.
I fully intend to get into the meditative swing of things at some point by visiting an Ashram, but I suspect that the choice of venue is all. At the moment, I’m still finding deep sleep to be the perfect form of meditation.
For sustenance, the aforementioned Yoga-Bunnies (or Yoga-Rabbits really) persist in eating 3-minute noodles every night. It is astonishing that they come to India and miss out on the food experience, which has been particularly good in Mysore. Meanwhile Mars, Clouds, Hanna and I have been eating like kings every night for under 100 rupees (less than 2 quid) in a wonderful restaurant, off the tourist trail. If it’s got Indians eating in it, it’s normally a good bet, and the Green Leaf is packed to the gunnels.
Despite the Y-Rs prominent display of over-large knickers on the balconies of the hotel, Mysore has been great. The palace is remarkable, the people are justifiably proud of their city (and consequently less pushy). Last night, looking out over the city from a balcony after a game of Rummy, something seemed different. It was the streetlamps. Mysore has streetlamps. And the occasional pavement. And even traffic lights.
One of the proudest Mysoreans I have met is Krishne Gowda. Krishne was relaxing in his friend’s shop over a glass of chai as I walked past. I was struck by his open smile so I opened a conversation. It transpired that he was the ex-Curator of the Mysore Zoo (1964-1996), and had entertained the Edinburgh Zoo curator in Mysore in the 80s, had trained in Hamburg, and had visited Whipsnade on numerous occasions. He developed a specialism in breeding elephants and rhinocerii. He had a record four species of the latter in Mysore Zoo at one point, elevating it to dizzy zoological heights of fame. A fascinating man, and a subsequent visit to the excellent zoo was well worth it.
By the way, the Phoney war continues. South Indian food is superb (touch wood).
Filed under 'mind the gap' journey 08-09, All posts, India '08-'09, South India
Power power everywhere. (But only sometimes).
The Indian novelist Arundhati Roy once commented on the bizarre sight of an Indian worker installing a fibre-optic super-fast broadband cable – by candlelight.
Power – or rather the lack of it – is a fact of life here.
In hotels, hot water is frequently only available between certain hours. In my current hotel, it’s 5am and 8am. At least that gets me out of bed in the morning (if the fan hasn’t stopped in the middle of the night first). Virtually every city has “scheduled” power cuts, even Bangalore’s Electronic City, where all the hi-tech firms have to cut across to alternative generators every day between 2pm and 5pm. And if the generators fail, you might be waiting a long time for that UK Directory Enquiry to be answered.
In restaurants, the lights go out every night on cue around 8pm, normally just as a piece of highly-spiced vegetable is perched precariously on your fork intent on increasing the laundry bill again. You get used to the familiar sound of someone scuttling across the restaurant floor at high speed heading for the alternative generator switch.
There are exceptions. Earlier this week I ended up in a smart cul-de-sac in Bangalore drinking Laphroiag at the house of the CEO of a software company I had arranged to visit. His house was next to many of Karnataka Province’s government ministers’ houses. No power problems there, funnily enough.
Everyone gets used to it, and as with most things in India, it’s just “the way it is”, another of the massive contradictions and contrasts here.
Driving on the road to the mirrored building and manicured lawns of Electronic City, the squalor, deprivation and makeshift housing on both sides of the road is hard to ignore. An elevated super-highway is being built, presumably to mask the sight and smell of the reality of the streets for well-dressed IT professionals on the 45 minute ride from the centre of town.
Probably the most memorable thing from my visit to Electronic City was the word “No”. The guards on the Tech Parks were determined not to let me in to any of the sites, demonstrating a paranoia worthy of the most self-obsessed security man in the UK. They were convinced I was a dodgy journalist.
In fact, I managed to get round this by visiting the Electronic City Association and getting an under-the-table referral to Jacob, the Facilities manager at one of the Tech Parks. Jacob gave me a tour, and I ended up with fantastic views across the area from one of it’s highest buildings, along with a potted history of this cultural phenomenon (interspersed with bizarre homilies to the American evangelist Billy Graham – Jacob was a 7th Day Adventist).
Along with tech parks in Hyderabad, Delhi, and increasingly Chennai, Bangalore is the engine of the service-driven Indian economy.
Electronic City’s emphatic “No” is in stark contrast to the general culture of “Yes” in India that I have so far experienced. Occasionally the continual Yes can be frustrating (especially when it masks a bare-faced lie in an effort to get some of your cash), but overall I know which I prefer.
Finally, thank goodness something positive has come out of the Mumbai terror. England ‘s cricket team is saved from further embarassment, in the One-Day series at least.
Filed under 'mind the gap' journey 08-09, All posts, India '08-'09, South India
Andrew Duff 