The First Week

We’ve now been in India for one week. And where have I been? Once we started working, it became harder and harder to write this blog. We would spend all day in the office and then go out afterward on some nights. Factoring in the traffic, an after-work trip can take the whole evening.

One night we went to Garuda Mall. This modern, multi-level shopping mall is located some distance from the office and from our hotel. It was fun to go out shopping, and especially to see the Indian stores with their colorful fabrics and distinctive styles. The salwar kameez is a popular outfit for women, and we see them everywhere, each more beautiful than the next. Salwar Kameez, which is a set of drawstring pants and a long dress-like top, is a typical work outfit here.

One store Sally and I wanted to check out was Fabindia. We’d read about it in our pre-trip book. The author said she took only one outfit when she came to India, then went to Fabindia and stocked up on beautiful clothes at very reasonable prices. Fabindia was fun—clothing for men and women, a few beauty products, and some items for the home. Mostly it consisted of shelf after shelf of folded tops and pants in wonderful cottons and silks. I bought a printed shirt. The store has a website; check it out at http://www.fabindia.com/.

One night we were scheduled to meet some of our Indian colleagues at a restaurant called Barbecue Nation. That’s right. I would have loved to try it, but we didn’t make the dinner. Right after we left our hotel, we got stuck in a traffic jam and moved only a few blocks in an hour. I actually preferred that pace to the usual frenzy, but eventually we had to call our friends and say that we had no prayer of making it to Barbecue Nation on time.

This past Friday we sponsored a team outing for our Indian colleagues. All of us left the office at 2:00 for a go-kart track. Fortunately they have casual Fridays in India, too, and all of us had dressed for the occasion. The track was over an hour from the office, in the opposite direction from our hotel. When we arrived the team spent several hours taking turns speeding around this track in low gasoline-powered karts. The course was lined with stacks of rubber automobile tires for safety.

Most of the karts were made for single drivers, but a few were double, meaning that one driver and one passenger could ride together. That’s what I did, rode shotgun (on the left) with a highly competitive driver in charge. I had a steering wheel, but it was mostly for looks. I had no gas pedal or brake—helpless is the word, I believe. We took off and screeched around the first of the curves. My colleague kept accelerating, taking the turns wide and passing other drivers when the opportunity arose. My role evolved quickly to this: While he maneuvered the go-kart, I screamed, “Slow down! Slow down!” like some Grandma, which I am.

Each driver got a few laps and then was directed back to the pit. Upon returning, I was relieved to shed my helmet and get back to the observation gallery, but at least I had gotten out there with everyone else.

After the racing there were some games and songs, then a buffet supper. By then it was dark, and when we got home the clock said 10:30 p.m. Saturday was going to be an early one; we were meeting a group at 7:00 a.m. to tour some palaces in the city of Mysore, several hours south of Bangalore.

Mysore was very cool, especially when we drove up a high mountain and were able to look down on the whole city. At the top was a tall, beautifully carved temple. We removed our shoes and socks in the car and made our way past vendor stands to the main attraction. Men selling fans, wooden boxes, and all manner of souvenirs followed us—especially Sally, who must have appeared very nice after the rest of us growled “No!” three or four times in their faces.

Thank goodness two of our Indian hosts were with us; they led the way through the ceremony of seeing the room for the deity, located in the center of this temple. We bought flowers, made a donation, and had red powder put on our foreheads by a priest in a toga before peeping around a barricade to see the little room that was causing such a stir. Oh, what can I say without sounding unappreciative; maybe that my eyesight isn’t that great and I would have loved to step forward and actually enter the tiny room, study the beautiful walls, and find out what all was there.

I brought two big manuscript envelopes with me so that, when I visited sites like this temple, I could take the brochures and mail them home to myself instead of weighing down my luggage. The trouble was, there were no brochures, which is why I’m so vague about what I saw.

We ate lunch in the Palace Hotel, which is a large, absolutely elegant, genteel, and lovely hotel near the palace of the Maharaja, which I’ll tell you about in a minute. This place was on the order of the Greenbrier Hotel in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia—first class. The tablecloth was lace over velvet; the walls were Dresden blue and white with carvings accented in gold. The ceiling of the dining room was high, with domed skylights. Two musicians played in the background as we ate, and the food was wonderful.

I’ve been asked to provide photos with this blog. You may be thinking about now that a photo or two would help. I agree; that’s a great idea that would be easier if I knew how…or if I had the time to know how. Maybe it will happen when Sally shows me how to post a photo; but that won’t be today. More on today after I tell you about the Maharaja’s Palace. (Later note: As you can see, I did figure out how to post photos. The one at the top of this posting is the temple at the top of the mountain in Mysore.)

This was the big one, the largest palace in Mysore for the top dog. “Maharaja of what?” I asked, and “Mysore” was the answer.

The palace is yellow on the outside, with acres and acres of grounds around it. We had to check our cameras at the entrance to the complex and take off our shoes and socks to go in. The Maharaja actually lives there, in one area—naturally, it’s the part where we weren’t, but we did see his Golden Throne. They bring it out once a year, so our visit was well timed. They also had a wax figure of the Maharaja outside one of the doors, and several portraits throughout the palace. But it wasn’t like he was going to stroll out to get a snack or check the weather.

It rained hard while we were inside looking at the totally elaborate, expensive, one-of-a-kind palace halls with their carved doors and ceilings, precious metals, scrollwork, imported tile and marble, and gigantic doorways (I think for the elephants, which are kept on the grounds). There really are structures that go on top of an elephant so the Maharaja can ride. The elephant has a gold faceplate, and its tusks are decorated. Everything is the way you might have seen it in a fairy tale—at least according to the pictures we saw.

The palace has a long terrace where the Maharaja comes out once a year or so to speak to the people, and there’s a parade. I should stop now, before I’m telling complete lies. As I said, no brochures were given out; but I did buy a 2009 calendar for 50 Rupees, or one dollar US.

We got home late from Mysore, and that brings us to Sunday. Today, for me, “The Unwind Island” has been this hotel room. I picked up some sort of bug yesterday, commonly known as Delhi Belly. It means, "Because we aren't used to Indian food or drinks, our tummies might get majorly messed up." Whatever I consumed, my travels have taken me only into the bathroom and back since last night. I feel better now but have had nothing to eat all day.

You know, I started several blogs this week, none of which are included in this posting. I wanted to tell you about our hotel and about my experience doing laundry. I wanted to address some of the rumors Sally and I read about before we came. Maybe I’ll still get a chance to finish those blogs, but this one is off the cuff because the week has flown by and I have hated not keeping up my blog.

We have two more days in the office here. Next Wednesday we fly to Delhi, and from there we’ll go to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. That day we’ll leave at 5:00 a.m. in order to catch the Taj at sunrise. It will be a rare experience, one I couldn’t have had without these wonderful business connections. Our hosts have been unbelievable in providing us with transportation and things to do.

We leave for home on the 26th. I think we also arrive on the 26th, but I can’t swear to it.

Until next time. As the singer Perry Como used to say, “Keep those cards and letters coming in.”