Bangalore

Day 17

Arrived by morning in Bangalore. My stay in Bangalore is a bit different from the rest of my trip because I'm staying not at a guest house but with Juan Castro, my friend from Currier House at Harvard. Juan (a fellow Californian) is one of a handful of Americans working for Infosys, a giant outsourcing company headquartered here in India. It seems like a pretty fascinating lifestyle these young Americans get to experience here in this ever-so-modern yet still very Indian city. Juan lives with the other American Infosys workers in a nice apartment building in the southern suburbs.

I didn't do much sightseeing today but instead caught up with Juan, watched some TV (Indian and American) and followed Juan around on his day off. Today was also Holi festival, which is a wonderful festival of color and joy celebrated throughout India. Except, it seems, in Bangalore. The festival is biggest in Northern India, where everyone loads up on fabulous colored powders and throws them at each other all day long. In Bangalore the participation is pretty weak. I saw only a few dozen people splattered in colors throughout the day, and they seemed mostly to keep it within their own group of friends. I would have liked to have gotten a better perspective on this exciting festival. However, maybe I'm better off. I read in the paper today that 8 people died and several were injured in Northern India as a result of the festival. Seems many teenagers and hooligans use it as an excuse to do all sorts of awful things and crime is at an all time high during Holi, with molestations, rapes, fondling, groping, drunk driving, and throwing acid in peoples' faces.

I met a group of Juan's friends, all foreigners living here in Bangalore. A guy from Sweden studing at University of Bangalore. A girl from Austria teaching English and geography to untouchables. A girl from France working with schizophrenics. And a guy named Matt from Oklahoma who has spent the last several years traveling, living, and working in Asia. We went to MG Road (Mohatma Gandhi Road) which is the commercial nexus of this oh-so-commercial of cities.

Bangalore is India's 5th largest city, and probably its fastest growing one. It is a huge center for high tech industries, internet industries, and call centers. Many US and global corporations have offices here. It is also one of the wealthiest, and therefore, most Westernized places in India. MG Road and perpindicular Brigade Road are capitalism on overdrive. Up until this point I had yet to see a single "mall" in India. And here there is a mall on every block. Some of them extremely nice and comparable to the fanciest malls in the US. Expensive deisgner clothing boutiques, Barista coffee shops on every block (Barista is basically the Starbucks of India. Surprisingly, Starbucks has yet to move into India. But Barista is essentially the same thing: overpriced novelty coffee drinks loaded with sugar and whipped cream and a hipper-than-thou attitude with a techno soundtrack.

Up until now I had not seen a single grocery store/shopping center in India. But I finally started seeing them today. They are still quite small for a supermarket. the produce sections are quite pitiful. And the entire refridgerator section consists of a handful of standalone coolers in the corner with cheese, cream, ice cream, and such.

There are surprisingly few foreign products available in Indian supermarkets, though you do see a few like Kellogs, Nestle, and of course Coca Cola. Kellogs makes a "Mango Corn Flakes" for the Indian market.

Days 18 and 19

I think I'm going to start abandoning the strict chronological nature of these blog posts and make it more of a stream-of-conciousness thing. Or rather, just a series of random observations and bullet points. Sorry if it's not the most coherent thing, but when internet time is at a premium I don't have time to craft these things into elegant, flowing prose.

On Thursday and Friday Juan had work so I wandered about the city on my own, through residential neighborhoods, parks, ugly drab commercial areas (where every other store sells tires and automotive parts), bazaars, and agagin to MG Road/Brigade Rd (where all the ritzy modern stores and malls are).

At the movie theater snack bar you can order a "Chicken Tandoor Quesadilla". Parentheses are added, explaining to Indian customers that this is a "Mexican sandwich". You don't see a lot of references to Mexico in this part of the world, so I thought this was amusing.

Bangalore is about 1000 feet up on the Deccan Plateau, so the weather is a bit more tolerable than elsewhere in Southern India. It is a little less humid, the air is a bit cleaner, and there are cool breezes. It's a very green city, with street trees lining many boulevards, and of course palm trees too.

I did a good deal of walking through some very nice suburban neighborhoods, with single family homes, townhouses, and apartment towers. Some of the streets actually have sidewalks. In general, sidewalks in Indian cities leave something to be desired. They are often in a constant state of construction, unpaved, with hunks of concrete lying about and rebar sticking out of the ground. They start and stop abruptly, forcing pedestrians into the lanes of traffic, which is where most of them walk anyway.

There are several parks in this city. One boulevard had at least a mile of parks in a row, each occupying one long, narrow block. I entered one of these parks, expecting that I could follow them all the way in a longitudinal direction, like Commonwealth Avenue in Boston's Back Bay. But when I got to the end I found the park gated and locked. I circled back along the entire perimeter and found that the whole park had but one access point. You couldn't pass through these parks. They are self-contained traps. I don't understand the reason for this. It is antithetical to connectivity. I am a great believer of connectivity in urban planning. I believe in connectivity for motor vehicles (a solid grid of streets rather than traffic-restricting cul-de-sacs) but I believe in more in connectivity for pedestrians. To me the ideal city is one rife with pedestrian paths, stairways, alleyways, shortcuts, and public easements...anything that encourages people to move about by foot. I hate it when I find myself blocked by a gate, wall, dead-end, or streets that don't connect.

Even in a modern, very Westernized city such as this, you still see hand-pulled or cow-driven wooden carts fighting for space in traffic. I've already said something about the traffic in India but it warrants more discussion. I used to wonder if traffic rules were simply non-existent. It certainly would seem that way to the casual observer. But all over Bangalore I saw signs listing dozens of possible traffic offenses and their accompanying fines. Even "excessive horn honking" is a punishable offense. Its not the rules that are nonexisten but the enforcement of these rules. From what I understand, on the rare occassion that cops do pull people over, it almost always leads to a bribe, and not a citation.

The US is one of the most automobile-centric societies on earth. We have the most cars per capita, consume the most gasoline, etc. Yet we have instituted safeguards to protect non-motorists. If you're trying to cross a street, most of the time you can be confident that approaching cars will stop for you. India on the other hand is primarily a nation of pedestrians. The numbers are on the side of the pedestrians. But they are not the empowered classes. Those with any money have motor vehicles, and they hold absolute power in the hierarchy of urban traffic. Every driver belives the right of way is his and his alone. He (or she) will never yield to pedestrians. He will cut in front of other vehicles. He will ignore red lights. He will shove his way into and across unsignalled intersections. He will u-turns. He will drive the wrong way on one way or divided streets. He will create shortcuts where none exist. And if anything gets in his way (or even if it doesn't) he will blast his horn as if it's his God-given right. The din of horn honking is literally deafening. I have resorted to wearing ear plugs whenever I walk down a busy street. Anyone who spends much time on these streets must suffer from permanent hearing damage. Big intersections are signalized, which means you can usually count on being able to cross the street on foot. But most are not, and crossing can be quite an adventure. Sometimes if you wait long enough there will be a lull in the traffic and you can make your away across. But traffic seems to move at an almost consistent and steady rate...never all that fast, but fast enough to be deadly. I've watched Indians crossing, and I usually try to cross with other groups of people (maybe its a power in numbers mentality). The most effective approach seems to be to work your way across the street lane by lane, stopping in the middle of the street to await the next empty spot. Of course, this can be dangerous as "lanes" are often wishful thinking.

In India vehicles aren't called "cars" and "motorcycles". They are "4 wheelers" and "2 wheelers", and 2 wheelers may even be more prevalent. They are especially popular with teenagers and 20-somethings. Young men driving with their girlfriends riding on back is a common sight. I've even seen young women driving with their boyfriends riding on back. In some of the popular destinations within the city, such as MG Road/Brigade Road, parking has become a problem. Entrepreneurs have opened parking lots where 2 wheelers are crammed in so tight I don't know how they ever get them out again. Bangalore is the first city in India to institute automated parking meters.

I saw Brokeback Mountain on Thursday at the multiplex in one of the malls. Seeing as homosexuality is techinically illegal in India, and most certainly a major taboo, I was actually surprised to find this movie playing at all. I guess that shows how far apart these few metropolitan cities are from the rest of India. But, still, I'm sure the film was censored. There were some abrubt cuts whenever things started to heat up between Jake Gyllenhal and Heath Ledger. We did see them kiss (which brought on a lot of giggles and snickers from the audience) and lying in bed together, but nothing else. Still, good movie. The Indian fellow sitting in front of me answered his mobile during the movie and proceeded to carry on his conversation for 5 minutes right there in the theater.

Cubbon Park is not a particularly happy place. It's full of single men, loafing about. I read that for every 100 men in India there are only 90 women, or something along those lines. Some Indian families kill their newborn infants when they learn they are female. This is not just a problem in rural India. With the rise of medical technology, urban families have performed abortions upon learning the gender of their unborn fetuses. In my opinion this gender imbalance cannot be good for Indian society. And not just for the obvious reason that sexism is wrong. Rather, it means that there are millions of Indian men who will never find a wife because there are simply not enough women to go around (and, as I explained earlier, seeking companionship with other men is not an option). Indian women on the whole are beautiful creatures. And every man wants a wife. I cannot understand why families don't want daughters. It seems to me they would be a very valuable asset. Not to mention that women can be found in nearly every profession these days. Women work in medicine, engineering, IT, and business. And of course, they work as receptionists, waitresses, salespeople, and models. You also find women in fields that, even in the West, are almost totally dominated by men. For instance: streetsweeping. Nearly all streetsweepers are women. This is a dirty job. Women patrol the streets, bending down to sweep debris and dust with handwoven brooms. And construction workers. Women are found at every construction site, usually hawling dirt away in baskets on their heads. The fact that there are so many lonely, disaffected single men loafing about is one of the reasons that the oggling, harrassment, and molesting of women can be such a problem.

I did some more clothes shopping, this time in a mall so that I wouldn't have to bargain. I wanted more Indian style ("kurta") shirts. Most of the clothes for sale in the department stores and clothing boutiques are Western style. To find Indian-style clothes I had to go to the "Ethnic Wear" section. I found this utterly ridiculous, since the adjective "ethnic" is usually used to desribe something OTHER than the dominant ethnic group in any given place. Yet, Indian clothes IN India have now been deemed "ethnic". Are Indians trying to "de-ethnicize" themselves in relation to the West? In the beauty products section of department stores and pharmacies you will find shelves dedicated to something called "fairness cream". I suppose its not that different from the concept of makeup in general, which makes you look different than your actual self. But the idea that the sole purpose of fairness cream is to change the color of your skin to make it whiter is enough to make my stomach churn. On the packages there are "before" and "after" pictures of a beautifully-complexioned Indian woman, and then the same woman looking decidedly whiter. Word is nearly every model and Bollywood actress uses this stuff. They make it for men too. Kind of ironic when most white people I know are constantly trying to look darker.

Pissing on the sidewalk doesn't seem to be taboo. Men will unzip and make use of the "facilities" most anywhere, regardless of whether or not women are nearby.

On one of my walks I came across a "Higher Secondary School". At first I thought it was a high school. It looked like one, a single two-storey building around a courtyard. I entered, figuring this would be a good way to see everyday Indian life up close. I asked a girl what type of school this was and she said it was a "college" but not a "university" and that the students were 18-21 years old. This is probably similar to a Junior College in the states, or maybe it's just a "college" in the sense that it doesn't offer advanced degrees. You can tell it's not a high school because the students dont' wear uniforms. They wear whatever they like. However, although there are a few girls in skirts, jeans, and tshirts, most still wear saris. The parking lot is entirely 2 wheelers...no 4 wheelers for college students. I wrote down the departments as I circulated around the school: Chemistry Electronics Computer Science Commerce Physics Zoology Botany Mathematics Statistics Sports Hindi Sanskript Kannada (the language spoken in this state) English

No room for humanities or social sciences, apparently. I went to the library, which did manage to make room for a single shelf dedicated each to History, Sociology, Psychology, Art, and Theater. In such a technology- and success-driven society, I suppose studying anything that doesn't lead directly to a high-paying job would be a lost cause. Within those social science shelves, it looked like most books were by Western authors, although there were a few Indian authors to be found.

I peeked into some classrooms and it looks like although the school itself is coed, boys and girls attend geneder-segregated classes. The classes here (with the exception of the language ones, I suppose) were all in English, and the teachers spoke flawless English as far as I could hear. Above the classroom doors, signs announced the professor's name AND degree.

A poster announced an upcoming sports meet. While the boys got to compete in athletic events like Running, Shot Put, Long Jump, etc the girls were relegated to childish games like Potato Race, 3-Legged Race, and the curiously-named "Lemon and Spoon".

I finally bought my first coconut from one of the many streetside coconut vendors. Indians harvest coconuts before they ripen and develop a rusky brown shell. These young coconuts have a smooth green skin. They chop off the top with a giant knife and stick a straw in. The coconut is full of delicious clear juice (which has not yet condensed into coconut milk). The meat of the young coconut is gelatinous and delicious and can be scraped out easily with a spoon. If only I had a lime to put in the coconut....*sigh*

Went out in the evening with Juan and his possee of international friends. Nightclubs and bars serve drinks that are extremely expensive by Indian standards ($2 for a mixed drink, up to $5 for premium liquors) but in a city like this there is plenty of people with disposable income. Bangalore has been referred to as "Bar galore" because of its raucous nightlife. However, discontent is brewing among the city's night owls. The official closing time for all drinking establishments is 11pm, and corrupt cops have been busting into bars as early as 9 and 10pm, knocking over tables and roughing up the crowds, calling patrons "prostitutes" and "sinners". Sounds kinda like Carrie Nation. Bars are required to obtain special licenses to continue serving drinks, but of course with the Indian bureacracy as it is, these licenses are notoriously difficult to obtain, and so the establishments usually have to dish out bribes instead (maybe that's why the drinks are so expensive).

Although Indians use the same number system as the rest of the world, they have different units for large sums of money. Indians do not have the concept of "1 million" or "1,000,000". Instead, they have "1 lakh" which is "100,000". But they add an extra comma, so the Western number "200,000" would be written in India as "2,00,000" or "2.00.000". I found this extremely confusing at first, and still do. When Indians talk about great sums of money, such as for a car or house, they talk about it in terms of lakhs. The next unit is the "croire" which is "100 lakhs" or "10,000,000". Confused yet?