Delightfully tame weekend

After the eventful evening Thursday, I was perfectly happy if nothing else happened this trip worth writing home about. But, so y'all don't think that was in any way typical, I feel like writing about the delightfully tame weekend that followed.

Saturday, I slept in until about 10, had another wonderful guest-house breakfast and a long talk with my sister and de facto life coach who's currently in Australia, had lunch, then headed out for a walk. I walked and walked and walked. I went up the road away from town and toward Hitec City, an area at the city's outskirts where all the foreign high-tech operations have set up shop in big, shiny buildings. I reached what was labeled on the map as a national park. It was confusing because it had a beautifully-manicured loop around it with high gates on both sides. I walked along that until I reached the main gate, which allows visitors entry into the inner part for Rs. 10.

There were plenty of well-maintained paths and some pretty foliage, but parts were very shabby and overall it was quite disappointing. Except for the peacocks! I must've seen a half dozen, some the males with the beautiful plumage and also some of the more subduedly-feathered females. There were signs warning visitors that it's a criminal offense to touch their fallen feathers. I did see a park guard riding his bicycle along the path, holding 3 feathers in one hand. I wonder if they sell them.

I walked home in the rain, past some ornate temples. Autos kept slowing down to ask if I wanted a ride, but I was enjoying the walk and the rain, so I waved them on. It had just gotten dark as I got back home, sopping wet and really happy. Nothing like a good bit of exercise, fresh air, and a warm monsoon rain! I ate dinner, seconds of desert, and then settled into my room. I watched an intense, scary movie just prior to going to sleep (not advised) and was hungry but didn't have any snacks. Finally, despite my whirring thoughts and growling stomach, I fell into a really deep, peaceful sleep.

Today, I got another late start, a delicious breakfast, and fought off my desire to go back to bed in favor of visiting the Old City of Hyderabad. It's famous for its bazaars, giant mosque, and high concentration of Muslims. Waiting outside the guest house, one auto driver told me no, another told me no, then one said yes but the negotiated price was more than I'd hoped for. We wound down through streets that got more and more crowded and "Indian". It made me realize that the office and guest house are in a pretty affluent, modern part of town. The strangest thing I saw was one of those stackable plastic deck chairs with a camel's head on the seat and sections of the legs propped up around it. I can't remember if I've seen a live camel before, but I'd definitely never seen a dead one's head on a deck chair.

We finally got to the Old City (maybe the fare wasn't so unreasonable after all) and I got out by the Charminar, a giant arch that reminded me of the Arc de Triomphe. It's in the middle of a circle drive that was chock full of autos, bicycles, vendors with their carts or small stands, and people people people! A lot of the women were covered from head to toe in black, with only their eyes showing. I even saw a few with translucent black scarves draped over their entire heads, faces included. I had quite a few people ask me for money, but I told them all no and they didn’t insist. I saw one woman sitting on the sidewalk with a young girl with what looked like a terrible burn on her forearm, like she’d dipped her hand in something or stuck it in a fire. I also saw legless and armless people asking for money. I remembered Slum Dog Millionaire, where child beggars were deliberately blinded so they’d earn more sympathy. I couldn’t help but wonder …

The mosque was disappointing from the outside, pretty drab and covered with wire mesh, purportedly to keep the birds out, and they wouldn’t let me in with my bag, which I wasn’t about to surrender to anyone. The bazaar itself was rather disappointing, too, as a lot of the vendors were selling the same things. Literally. The same bracelets, the same household goods like strainers and scrubbers, the same jewelry and clothes. It got boring. But the people watching, as you might imagine, was amazing. It’s times like that, in a weird bazaar where the ice cream cart doesn’t have ice cream, the people around you look nothing like you, you wonder why everyone’s selling the same junk, and you can’t understand a word being spoken except for the vendors shouting “here, ma’am, here!” that it hits you: I’m on the other side of the world.

I walked a long way back toward the guest house, asking general directions (i.e. pointing), and passed by what’s called the Public Gardens. Another disappointing park if you ask me. All the honking from the surrounding roads didn’t help its serenity any. Loads of people were asleep on the grassy areas. There were two museums that didn’t seem worth it. I didn’t stay long. The next thing I passed was the meeting place of the National Assembly. It’s a huge, gorgeous white building with a giant statue of Gandhi sitting (literally, he’s sitting) out front. I stuck my camera through the fence and my hands touched some wires that I realized later I was really lucky weren’t electrified. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.

Not long after that, I decided nearly three hours of walking was plenty and hailed an auto. The guy couldn’t get his meter going (you never know) and so we agreed upon a fare that I thought seemed high, again. He took me to the wrong place, a big, glitzy hotel (where else could a white girl like this be staying?) and had to backtrack. He dropped me off at a restaurant near work, where I dined in style for Rs. 400. My colleagues in Mumbai had told me I must try the biryani, a specialty of this state, and it was delicious. Mutton is widely eaten here and it was quite tasty.

The only downside surprises were that the “Pulpy Orange” I ordered was not fresh juice, but rather some Minute Maid product, and that a very annoying prerecorded voice came on the loudspeaker to wish happy birthday to some guy at another table. Why it was on the loudspeaker and why she had to sing the song twice – mysteries to me. I asked on the comment card that the restaurant reconsider this practice.

Got home with a very full belly, had a shower, had a nap. All in all, a very authentic “foreigner in India” day, I’d say.

(Side note: Negotiated versus metered cabs. The latter can be intimidating and uncomfortable, and it's easy to get overcharged until you've figured out how far things are and how much fares ought to be. The upside is that, once negotiated, the driver has every incentive to take you directly to your destination and, if he gets lost (as happens a lot!), you don't pay for his ineptitude. The former saves you the trouble of negotiating, but you risk being taken the long way until you know your way around, and it can be stressful to watch the rupees or pesos or whatevers add up not knowing if you're being cheated or how high the fare will go.)