We're heading into the first full week in Bangalore. What a city!There are 7.2 million people in Bangalore. It's nicknamed "Silicon Valley" because of the recent influx of the Information Technology industry. Intel campus is about 20-30 minutes from where we live. Briton takes a free Intel shuttle bus to and from work. I will elaborate on transportation shortly.
This past Saturday we visited the International Shrine for Hare Krishnas. It is a huge temple complex, open to all visitors. You remove your shoes, pass through a metal detector, and can then walk the 108 steps with other devotees, curious tourists, etc. At the entrance to the temple, everyone enters a queue where you begin a little ritual of stepping and chanting. Step. Chant. Step. Chant. Each step you take is onto a raised marble stone. In unison, everyone chants "hare krishna hare krisha krishna krishna hare hare ... " The stepping leads you, interestingly, to the bottom of a flight of three successive levels of stairs. An idol sits at the landing between each set of stairs. The biggest, most elaborate room (domed roof, large ceiling murals, chandeliers) with the largest altar is at the top level. Here, people can sit and meditate, worship, etc. The Hare Krishnas do a great work locally, helping feed thousands of hungry folk each day. We padded out of the temple in our socked feet, after we had said our Hare Krishnas and after Briton was proselyted into purchasing a necklace (for about 25 cents) that would help him remember to say his Hare Krishnas every day (sort of like a rosary). I never figured out why "108".
Now on to that transportation thing. Collectively, we've all traveled quite a bit. But I can confidently claim that no one, in any of their ventures, has seen traffic that compares to the level of chaos we see in Bangalore. The dotted white lines, if they exist, mean nothing. Busses, auto rickshaws, cars, motorcycles, bicyclists, even pedestrians, weave in and out. If you see an opening, go for it. Does it look to narrow for your vehicle? Drivers have an uncanny ability to know the exact dimensions of their car and will squeeze into an opening, leaving, literally a hand-width between their car and the next. A road can at once be a three "lane" road or a four or five “lane” road, depending on how many vehicles are spread across in one direction at any given moment. Not enough space for your car in the direction you are traveling? No problem, cross over to oncoming traffic to get around the pokey guy in front of you, and make it a six “lane” road. Oncoming traffic will merrily dodge around you.
Another unique aspect of Bangalorian traffic behavior is that it is not restricted to uni-directional travel. If, for instance, you missed the turn off to a side street, as we did on Sunday, the driver merely stops, looks behind him, and backs up, assured that, even though we are on a main thoroughfare, the traffic coming up to him from behind will have the wherewithal to avoid him. We backed up for half a block. Horn honking is not done in anger or frustration, but as a means of communicating one's presence. The din is constant. We asked John, the 22 year old driver for our condo, if he's ever been in an accident. "No, ma'am," he smiles. Despite the apparent dangers on the road, I trust the ability of the drivers. They all seem to manage the perils with great aplomb, as traffic, though thick and heavy (and heavily polluted), moves flowingly along … well, in fits and starts. We all get to where we're going eventually, because everyone knows the rites of the right of way.
