Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Hampi to Pondi...at least the places in between

I refer to some pictures in this post, but there are no pics here. I will try to put them in later...I've already tried three times.

Since Hampi, my world has revolved around both sights and family. Take Bangalore, or Bengaluru, for example. I stayed with my cousin Hardik Bhai and his fun wife Ami during my time there. The first day of my arrival, we decided to go to a safari park. The trip to and from the park was fun itself. The terrible roads on the outskirts of town simply prompted more and more complaints from Bhai. He whined about the bad infrastructure...personally, I really liked the town. It was the most progressive I had seen. Shops displaying women's underwear, billboards of guys in briefs, men and women holding hands freely, more women in jeans than in salwaars...I liked it. Bhai apparently doesn't. He dislikes the Karnataka corruption, which in many ways reflects that which exists throughout India. Still, the complaints were amusing. And Ami was great. I know that she loves Lays chips, particularly the tangy tomato ones (I tried Pani Puri flavored Lays...it was a little weird). I know she has the ability to fall asleep anywhere and at any time. Plus, she has a great sense of humor...oh, and she's a great cook (despite what she may think). Staying with them was great. I was finally able to take a hot shower (yes, this was a first for me), using an actual shower head, not just a bucket. And after the communal and always worrisome squat toilets at Hampi, sitting to do number 2 never felt better! Plus, their warm house had a young and hip, while still totally spiritual feel to it. Oh, and this was the first time I had ridden in a car while on this trip. And each time I got into the back seat, I reached for a seat belt, and always felt a bit disappointed when my hand grabbed at empty space. Still, their Maruti Suzuki Santo Zip (a car which a third of car-owning Indians own, I think) was nice...definitely better than an auto(riksha) or a bus.

The next day, I visited with lots of distant family. I finally met the famous Chetan Bhai, along with Chaiyya Bhabhi, Kruti, Chirag, Ji Masi, and the fun-loving (and severely teething) Jackie. Above is a picture of Chirag and Jackie. This is one of my favorite pics! I had a great time with the family, and really wished I could have been there longer. After breakfast with them, we rushed over to Raju Bhai, Smita Bhabhi, and Manju Masi's place. Then, on our way to Sravanabelagola (which took me about a week to learn how to pronounce!). This place has the world's largest monolith, which happens to also be naked. If you don't want to see a very large naked man carved out of stone, don't look at the picture below. The story of Sri Gomateshwara, also known as Bahubali, is this. After Sri Adinath, the very first Jain tirthankar, attained moksha, his two sons fought to see who would carry on as leader of the Jainas. The second son, Gomateshwara, came to the realization that such squabbling and lust for power was contrary to the Jain philosophy. So, he renounced everything, meditated for a lifetime, and attained moksha. Hence, we like him. At Sravanabelagola (which felt like a poor man's Palitana), we climbed up a hill with about 700 steps to get to the temple at the top. And then, the large naked Bahubali. For some reason, I always imagined 17.5 meters to be taller than it really was. Still, the simplicity and the serenity of the statue were wonderful. And yes...he was naked, thus prompting questions from later friends as to the statue's "proportionality." Ahem...

I had to leave Bangalore too soon. The next day I headed out to Mysore on an excursion from Bangalore. And who should I meet but my buddies from the Hospet train station. The Welch dynamic duo, Sam(antha) and Ayesha. They had two new friends, Nell and Ella (who, I hate to say, was a spoiled brat but a damn good haggler). I met them in a market, which was a beautiful, bustling place. We spent the day, a lazy day, together. While in Mysore, I did not see the Brindavan Gardens or Chamundi Hill, as many people said I should have. If I hadn't come upon my friends, then perhaps I would have visited those places. Instead, I only saw the Mysore Palace, which is shown below. This place is truly multi-national, as its components come from about 30 different countries. Beyond the Palace and the Market, I also experienced the other great Mysori tradition...incense. This is one of the leading places in pure oils and incenses, and it's the only place in India where Sandlewood Oil is manufactured. So, I spent way too much money and bought natural sandlewood agarbatis (incense sticks), pure sandlewood oil (good for asthma), lotus oil (good for headaches), and water lily oil (good as a mosquito repellent). Let's just say I spent way too much...like a week's budget. Yikes!

The next day, I decided to head over to the Keshava Temple in the small small village of Somnathpur. The Keshava temple was the only finished piece in the Hoysala period. So, I decided to venture my way over. Of course, I took a local bus from Mysore. It dropped me off in the village of Bannur. I waited in their bus stand, which was simply a town square, or the dusty center of things, where people simply loitered around for no reason whatsoever. And, everything was written in Kannada, making it impossible for me to know which bus was appropriate without asking...which of course would draw to attention to myself. But what could I do? After an hour, the bus for Somnathpur finally came. It was already packed. People were jumping off and on even before the bus stopped. I suddenly felt transported back to the trains of Mumbai. Books and clothes were flying into the windows, hoping to save a seat. Boys and men climbed to the "upper class" seats on the roof. And what did I do? I didn't realize that this was the right bus until it was too late. It filled to beyond capacity within a minute. So, I settled for a riksha. I bargained him down from a 180 to a 130 to take me the 6 kms to Somnathpur, wait an hour, and then bring me back. I still overpaid. Lokas, the driver, was very friendly (probably because he had just made a bunch of money off of me), and showed me things along the way. This was a great way to see some villages up close. At Somnathpur, though, he caused a problem. He insisted on showing me the ticket counter. I tried to back off from him, but it was too late. The ticket man could tell I was a foreigner. He yelled at me for trying to pay the Indian price, and he called me illiterate. Lokas caused me to pay an extra 95 Rs, making my money a little too short. I would have to change a Traveler's Cheque upon returning to my hotel. Nevertheless, I entered into the temple complex. The carvings, shown below, were AMAZING! Every inch covered with something: Perhaps from the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, or the Kama Sutra. However, the temple was small. I was in and out in 20 minutes. 254 Rs. and most of the day, for 20 minutes. I still haven't decided whether going to Somnathpur was worth it. I think so.

Back to Bangalore. Where Hardik Bhai and Ami took me to a mall to see the Christmas decorations (they had read my mind!!!) and to eat at Pizza Hut. I had Tandoori pizza. With Indian masala and everything. Then, home, packing, sleeping, and leaving for the train station the next morning. I listened to Christmas music on the way to Chennai. Yeah, that was more boring than expected. I thought it would be nostalgic. Nope...just boring. And Chennai? Hectic. Crazy. Chaotic. You get the idea. It was wedding time! And I became immersed into the family on his father's side. Constant questions about why I don't speak Gujarati, about why I'm traveling, about why I'm not married, etc. And there were so many people! Bipin Fua has three brothers and four sisters, all married with kids. So, lots of people. And on my side of the family? Only the two sisters, their husbands, and one cousin: Amol...better known as Pinku (and his brother is known as Sweetu). Pinku was great. We had lots of fun. He's sarcastic, just like me. He shares my humor. And we just really got along well together. Without him, the trip would have been boring. At least we were bored together. What struck me as odd was the sheer number of rituals. Vishal and Nisha (commonly known as Nishal, like Bennifer, but less annoying) were constantly on their feet, fighting against sleep, and attempting to smile. Some of the rituals didn't even make sense to them. But, they did what they had to. Which sucked, because technically, they were already married. They had filled out the legal marriage certificate two days earlier.

One of my goals for this wedding was to fade into the background. Such wishful thinking was more than impossible. Since I was representing both of Vishal's mother's brothers, I became the center of a ritual in which I had to present monetary gifts to different people. I didn't know about my role until about 2 minutes before it started. Yeah, that sucked. Nothing too complicated, like hopping on one leg while reciting the Nokaar Mantra or anything. But, I still needed some assistance. As for the wedding itself, it was boring. The Sangeet from the night before was also boring. And the reception...boring. You see, it was all ritual, none of which involved the audience. In fact, you don't even need to pay attention during the wedding. You can talk all you want! And the reception? Nishal stood for 3 hours as people congratulated them. Uh huh...not what I would recommend for anyone's wedding. The only fun thing about the wedding was the procession leading up to it. Being on the groom's side is fun. Vishal sat in a horse carriage, and a band lead the way, playing bhangra for us all to dance to while walking. We took up the street, drawing lots of onlookers. This was the best part of the wedding, definitely.

Okay, now I'm sick of writing. I'll perhaps write more on the wedding later.

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