Of Food and Phones

Everyone at Intel here in Bangalore has been very welcoming and friendly. I’ve been adopted into a lunch group now and they see that I get good, authentic meals around town, that aren’t super spicy. I haven’t been one for spicy foods, but I’m adapting--my tolerance has gone way up already! The range of new tastes and flavors is wonderful and I’ve noticed I really can get by with just “veg” options. [btw, dishes, menus, restaurants, etc. are all labeled “veg” or “non-veg” - shown by green or red, sort of the traffic signal for vegetarians]. Still, the chicken and mutton dishes are delicious. So I really am enjoying the food. Looking at our recent photos, it seems that I may be developing the “carb” cheeks--so much rice and fried breads, despite my morning exercise routine? As for Robin, with the pregnancy, unfortunately she has had a little difficultly with spiciness. I’m becoming a less and less reliable litmus test for her as my buds adapt. There are a few things that help with the heat: 1) yogurt; you’re often dipping rice or naan (type of bread) into spicy curries of this and that; there’s usually also a small dish of yogurt which will sooth the mouth; 2) cucumbers; served frequently and they manage some cooling; 3) lassi: a frothy buttermilk drink which comes either sweet or salty. (As you can see in the photo, I’m eating with my hands, like most Indians do. However (and whoops!), unlike most Indians, I’m unwittingly using my left hand, which is traditionally reserved for toiletry duties… you are to eat with your RIGHT hand only! And while I’m here I’ll mention that it’s rather amusing that the brand label prominently displayed on the porcelain potties here in this country is “Hindware.”)

So that paragraph devolved straight into food talk. Back to the folks I’m working with at Intel… so nice in inquiring to our wellness and helping us get situated here. They’ve told us about cool places to go, restaurants, sites, tips for transportation, helped us get hooked up with the best touring agents/tours, they’ve given us rides here and there, and just been real great.

Here’s a phone story for you… my Intel buddies here thought it a good idea that I get some type of cellular phone solution going, in case we get lost, stranded, doomed, etc… I’d brought my cell phone, but didn’t figure I could use it here. Well Deepak took me next door (from Intel BGA1) to the Airtel store where he bought a prepaid SIM card for my phone. I put the card in my phone and got a “Phone Locked” message, “Enter Restriction Code.” M’oh boy. My Nokia had some lock on it. Goto Google. Found a forum ( http://www.unlocknokia.us ) which will provide the unlock code for you, FREE (while others charge $$). The code is long string of numbers and symbols unique to your phone serial number, service provider, etc. The web forum provided the code by the next day, and it worked! However, Airtel would not come up. Only the carrier “Hutch” appeared. Well, we didn’t purchase Hutch. But Dinesh’s service provider was Hutch, so he suggested we just switch phones. So now I have Dinesh’s phone with the SIM card Deepak got me, and Dinesh has my phone with his SIM card in it. The short of this: 1) Dinesh and Deepak are great, 2) unlock your cell phone before traveling abroad, 3) learn what GSM bands your phone really works on before purchasing prepaid minute SIM cards.

"Holy Cow"

Back in the bus, we descended the windy road from atop Chamundi Hill where we had walked around a marketplace and ancient Hindu temple site, seeing patrons, peddlers, and monkeys. The tour guide in a deep, emphatic tone announced over the bus intercom that we were approaching “the great, huge nandi.” Nandi? great, huge, what? Robin and I were puzzled. Again, the guide bellowed that on our left we would be seeing “the GREAT… HUGE… … NANDI!” Whoa, whatever it was, we didn’t want to miss this great, huge nandi. Turns out it was an enormous statue of Nandi, the bull of Hindu god Shiva, carved from a single piece of black granite. Amazing.

More power

I think I’ve discovered one of the reasons that Intel issues everyone a laptop. The power goes out in Bangalore two or three times a day. I was surprised the first few times it happened, but now barely skip a beat while my screen dims slightly with the auto-switch to battery power and then brightens back to regular a minute or so later when the ceiling lights resume; no work lost, and the network stays up on backup power. It’s little surprise that we don’t bother setting the clock on the microwave here in the condo.

Goose Bumps

So I stick out like a mosquito’s nose over here: paper white skin, freckles, RED hair, blue eyes, anything else? Doesn’t help that I often wear a large, wide-brimmed Aussie hat… We very rarely see anyone in hats here, save for a few turbans and skull caps. I’ve got this outrageous accent too. Standing out like this isn’t completely new to me so I’m coping fairly well. The people are very friendly; we’re curious both ways if you follow me. Robin and I had a fun experience the other night… Dinesh drove us to book a bus tour, and his buddy from college, Jones, was with us. We parked and went walking around the crowed street trying to find the right agency. Jones said, “I have good bumps.” What? Even at this evening hour ~8pm it was quite warm and humid. We probed Jones who confessed, “I’ve never been around people like you.” This feeling of self-consciousness quickly wore-off though and he ended up hanging out with us at the Forum (local, happening shopping mall) while Dinesh went to meet up with his fiancé. We enjoyed a late dinner there with Jones, chatting about cricket, dating, and other cultural nuances.

Rocky Mountain Way

I’ve collected a few stringed-instruments over the years and enjoy learning to play them a little bit. Now here in India, my attention turns to the sitar, that buzzing pumpkin gourd that enlightened 60’s pop tunes. We followed a recommendation from Elder Jensen to hit Reynold’s Musical Instruments on Brigade Rd. We went inside the small shop to see a couple guys muscling a large keyboard from its cardboard box while a few others stood in the back watching. Unlike the silk emporiums and handicraft stores, no one jumped to us. In fact no one seemed to pay us any attention. I wandered over to the guitars and picked up an acoustic. A young guy in his 20s who had been maneuvering the keyboard came over and asked if I played. He introduced himself as Melvin, an out-of-towner from Chennai (6 hours NE). He didn’t work at the store, but he liked to play blues. He too grabbed a six-string and we tuned. 12-bar blues in E it was… and so we jammed! Any store workers there continued to show indifference… then Melvin, who was already very excited, raised his eyebrows with a large smile: “Do you know any Joe Walsh?” Well, YEAH. So there I was, in India, screaming out ‘Rocky Mountain Way’ with Melvin--what fun!!!

As for the sitar, there was a slightly used one on display that I experimented with. So foreign to me: planes of strings running here and there, tuning knobs up and down the whole neck, sound chambers on both ends? I picked one string and tried to make some sound. Got some of that buzz going, but it certainly was tricky. Certainly didn’t feel pressured into a sale. I dragged very little info out of the shopkeepers and felt inclined to inquire elsewhere… We’ll see.

Sign Language

I’m loosening my neck muscles here. A fun part of a culture new to me is learning the communication tricks. I grew up with the head nod and shake: up/down = yes, side-to-side = no. Indians use a different one for “yes”: it’s more of a roll from side-to-side, which I have been easily confusing with the side-to-side “no.” This has been particularly amusing in my face-to-face brainstorming sessions with Deepak. I draw a diagram on the whiteboard expounding some ‘grand’ scheme and then look at him for validation to see a side-to-side nod. Was that a yes or a no? fun... (btw, seems it usually is a no, and Deepak then draws a grander scheme :^) )

As for more sign language, we get it at church. Apparently one or more of the members in the congregation is hearing impaired and a signer interprets the meeting. This means Robin and I get visual aids to help understand their English accents. Talk about a multi-lingual experience, we were sitting in the sacrament meeting listening to a sister speak in her native tongue, Kannada (I think, the language of Karnataka, the state in which Bangalore resides). Her talk on prayer was signed and also translated on the fly to English. At times she would refer to the scriptures, at which point I would open my own French copy (the only one I brought) and follow along...

There is a lot to learn about languages here. So far I've gathered that most Indians speak at least three languages: their native tongue, which is usually the language of the state they live in; Hindi, which is the most prevalent native tongue in India; and English. Even though everyone speaks English, Robin and I have found it difficult to communicate. Our accents are thick for them to understand, and vice-versa and we choose different words for our sentences.

Deepak (with whom I work at Intel) has attempted to teach me some Hindi. I'm a difficult pupil so far. "Hum Chalengay" or so I phonetically write: "We will go"

"Don't play with any of the switches"

Our condo is a veritable wonder of wall switches and gizmos. There’s a bank of three switches and a knob at the front door. Two of the switches produce no noticeable change at all, and for the knob, it’s just been a 4-position percussion clicker. The only functioning switch on this bank illuminates a small light on the opposite wall which highlights the painting of Tipu’s Palace. This is enough light however to guide you to the lamps which each have switches on their power cords. Be warned, you must check that the electrical outlet they’re plugged into is also switched on. Every socket has a switch--a land of equality. [For the wondering, the power is different from the US, but “220, 221, whatever it takes.” It’s 210V @50Hz and you need the “O O” plug instead of the “I I” one. Our adapter suits us fine.]

Now some of the switches have red LED lights on them and special labels. I think “Geyser” is my favorite. This switch is in the bathroom and must be turned on if you want hot water for your shower. The kitchen has an “HOB” and a “Chimney”. The first lets you ignite the gas stove burners, the second turns on the ceiling fan. Finally, there are “AC” switches. We are blessed with an air conditioning unit on each floor. Flip the switch, then pick up the remote control to dial-in your Centigrade selection. We run them frequently, as it gets warm and muggy here.
Now, to top off this conundrum of controls, nothing in the entire condo works unless you plug a large brass slug into a special slot near the front door. Yup, all of the above switches, knobs, remote controls rendered completely useless without the slug, which incidentally double-functions as the chunky lose-me-not hardware on the room’s key ring.
Sunday we were invited to the Jensen Family’s apartment for dinner. We salivated jealousy as we beheld their awesome mega-rack of switches in the dining room. At least a dozen switches on the panel! --one of which, near the center, was needed to turn on the toilet’s light. Of course, they’ve lived in Bangalore for over a year. We are but young chicks…

Religious Rites and Rights of Way

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.

Bang-Galore!

Hello! We’re in India now and in full discovery mode of this place so new to us. I readily accepted an opportunity through Intel to spend a month in Bangalore, working face-to-face with engineers here on a cross-site project. Robin wasn’t about to let me go have this experience by myself, nor was I keen to go without her. Et donc voila, here we are, shacked up in a nice business condo/hotel in the bustling city Bangalore, which, as Robin says, is located at the bellybutton of India.

I’m going to give this blog another crack and see if it proves useful in recording and publishing our story while here. We’re 12.5 hours out of sync with the place we normally call home, so it makes it more difficult to, well, call home. I may try some Skype experiments, but otherwise we’ll be tethered to text on the Ethernet cable, which conveniently finds the Internet right here in the living room.

We’re quite pampered here in our condo. It’s more like a hotel actually, except our room has two stories. We get a deluxe breakfast every morning in the restaurant downstairs. The buffet features continental and Indian delights, lots of spicy doughnuts, pineapples, and western classical music.

Lots more to write about …