The never ending first weekend in India (final part)

Trust me, this weekend that I’ve been writing an inexhaustible amount on does have an ending. After our tour of the Hindu temple in Halebid, we headed to a neighboring town called Belur a place with the temple which supposedly is more beautiful on the inside. We arrived to more soap stone carvers, giving us the same lines that we had heard in Halebid. They must teach a class for these folks, letting them in on all of the tips and tricks for suckering the tourists into giving up some rupees for trinkets of questionable value. They got me in Halebid, I wasn’t budging in Belur, even though I have to admit that these trinkets looked a little nicer (damn it!).

Again we went through the same song and dance of removing our shoes and socks, this time a little more gingerly because our feet were cooked to at least medium rare. The temple was surrounded by a 15-20 foot stone wall, and centered inside a good-sized court yard. The distance from the shaded entrance to through this wall was quite daunting given the 4 PM sunshine baking the soap stone to a scalding temperature. We saw a red mat that led up to the temple, but there was still a lot of stone to cross and the mat didn’t offer that much relief. We basically ran to the mat, then skipped up the steps to the cool greeting that the inside of the temple offered.

I walked in one of the main entrances and was greeted by a seven-headed snake, a statue of one, that is. I was finding that snakes tend to be help up as sacred animals in the Hindu culture, which is a contrast to the Christian, which equates this creature to Satan. In fact I’ve heard that a lot of cultures hold a snake in high regards, perhaps because of its seemingly dual nature. It has the ability to move like water, yet its tongue draws analogies to fire. Even if you look at the symbol of the medical profession, its two snakes wrapped around a staff.

I have to admit that I didn’t pay the inside of the temple much mind, given that I was dragging a bit at the time and it was actually pretty dark in there. Even after standing for a while, my eyes couldn’t quite adjust to the light (or lack thereof), making it difficult to see what was going on in there. A tour guide that appeared to speaking in Hindi perhaps was shining a Bat-signal-like spot light on some areas of the temple. I wish I knew what he was saying.

The outside of the temple was much like the one I had seen in Halebid, with layers of animals representing respected qualities of human and animal kind. Again I was distracted by my baking feet, which were probably moving on to medium, with medium-well not too far away. I was ready to get to back into the air-conditioned car with my shoes and socks back on.

The ride back home had most of us in a trance with heavy eyelids. We stopped a truck stop called “Kamat”, which is apparently a chain in the area. It wasn’t quite like an American truck stop. It didn’t have a bar, or bake potato special or any travel-worn truckers to speak of. It was actually a nice little sit-down restaurant with about 8 people ready to serve us (ok, it was more like 3). We had the paneer tikki masala and some naan, which turned out to be pretty good. We saw a couple families come in for dinner after us. It just didn’t have that trucker feel to it, not that I minded.

And so that was Saturday…Sunday was a little more relaxed, with golf being the only thing on the agenda. I had made some reservations at Eagleton golf club at the advice of an IBM co-worker back in California. He told me I could play 18 with a cart, a caddie and a seven-course meal for around 40 bucks. He was just about right on that. That’s about what it costed me, though we had to settle for a lamb burger at the club house after getting through 18.

Speaking of those 18, what a beautiful course. After driving through the dry geography of southern India, it was nice to be able to see some green grass, fir trees and little ponds (though they also serve as water hazards). The course was a little longer than average length, with plenty of fairway to play in. It still didn’t prevent me from losing a few balls, which kinda pisses me off now because the ones I lost had “Eagleton Golf Club” printed on them. I still have the other ones I purchased which are just some “EV” brand.

It took me a while to get used to having a caddie. We had one for each cart, of which we had two, for the four of us. The caddies road standing up, hanging onto the back. I kept putting my own clubs back and reaching for the next one as my caddie, a 21-year-old named Ravi, shook his head and kept saying, “Let me do that sir” (man I hate being called “sir” – makes me sound old!). The kid claimed to have a 2 handicap, which is excellent, and I believed him. He gave me a lot of instruction that improved some of my shots and he seemed to read the green very well. He was brutally honest with me though when I had some tough holes, saying, “You’re not playing so well right now”. Thanks Ravi.

The temperature rose to a scorching 103, making some of the irons in my bag a little hot actually (first time I’ve seen that). But it was a dry heat and I liked it. It reminded me of playing in Las Vegas with a bachelor party. Everyone else seemed to be losing steam as we played, but I just kept pounding water and wore a hat and plenty of sun screen. I felt great.

Probably the prettiest area of the course was one with the goddess Shiva in the back ground. One of the holes (maybe 15 or 16), I’d call the signature hole. It had Shiva way off to the left and a beautiful dog-legged 5-par strolling right into it. It’s also where I probably hit my best shot, a 4-wood (that’s the biggest lefty club they had) I blasted it about 250 yards. The great shots were few and far between, but I liked that one.

We finished up and rewarded our loyal caddies with a good chunk of rupees (600 or so, each). I wondered what they usually made. I also wondered what the future held for them. I got the impression that Ravi wanted to be a professional, which is a one-in-a-million type of move. Would he still be a caddie there if I returned to that same course in 10, 20 years? If he could live off of the tips and money he made there, which is probably pretty slim, it wouldn’t be a bad life.

As promised, the weekend did end…I finished up Sunday with a jump into the hotel’s pool on the roof, which was actually a lot of fun. The view included the IBM and Microsoft buildings, which are talked about in the beginning of the book, “The World is Flat”, still something I need to finish.

I say that about a lot of books…and writing. ;-)

Weekend in India (part 2)

Let me begin this post by finishing up on last weekend. I was leaving the town of Srvana Begola, having visited the world's largest monolith, feeling like I had seen something pretty cool already. Rhagu wasn't happy when we entered the car, saying that we were a half hour behind. Who hired who? Regardless, the point he was trying to make is that we ain't seen nothing yet. This wasn't the main course.

We continued our travels to Halebid, to visit the Holysaleshvara Temple (say that 3 times fast). We continued on through a few towns, some of them somewhat modern looking. I say "somewhat" because I continued to see sections of what I would classify as something just a notch above a ghost town. Without the people walking around and inside these dilapitated, shack-like store fronts, I'd take them for abandoned. However, where my use of "modern" comes in, is that not too far away from these straw-man shops, I'd see beautiful, glass-windowed businesses. Sure they still had a dirt walk way up to them, but they looked just as nice as most small town, American stores. What was interesting is that most if not all of these places that seemed to have 99% of the town's investment in them were selling motor cycles and scooters. I guess the market for these two wheelers must be practically larger than life in some areas. I did happen to see a fair amount of bill boards in Bangalore, showcasing motorcycles as well. If you want to be cool in this country, you'd better own one.

As we came through Halebid and into the rural outskirts of it, I noticed several people breaking up rock into big piles, using wimpy-looking sledge hammers and other primitive-looking implements. They were not just men, but also women in bright-colored saris, breaking their backs in the sweltering heat. My only guess was the rock would serve as the foundation for the dirt road we were traveling on. It seems that they're building this country one swing at at time, using whatever players are available.

A large temple came into view. We saw several men by a fence and small open gate, with a dirt area that served as a parking lot. Rhagu casted them a glance as one of them raised their hand and gestured for us to park. He ignored their invitation at first, continuing to drive, but we eventually ran into a dead end in the form a large locked gate. We U-turned and decided to take up the man's offer to park afterall.

Again before leaving the car we were surrounded by post-card vendors and this time, soap stone craftsmen, who had carved up mostly small stone elephant figures, a representation of Genesh, one of the Hindu gods. "5 rupees mister, please...Look at these carvings. This took me 3 days to carve. What will you give me for it?". I put my hands in the air as they followed me through the small gate. "How about later?"..."Maybe"..."Great, my name is...".



After dealing with the vendors, we made our way down a dirt path towards the temple, snapping some pictures of two statues that flanked our way. The one on the left appeared to be one of a horse and warrior. The one on the right was of Ganesha, part man and elephant.

We came to the temple's shoe depository. Again we would need to tour with our bare feet, which would prove to be quite a challenge as the hot sun began to bake the dirt and the soap stone that we would walk upon. It only took a few steps up the stairs before I could feel a blister form on my right foot. My soles were getting cooked.

We entered the temple to find darkness. There was no artificial light used inside, which caused me to think that they had to have at least used candle light. A young woman in a blue sari approached and asked if we wanted a tour. She had a name tag with something official written beneath, like "Government of Karnataka". She said the tour would cost 200 rupees (~ 5 bucks) and we agreed. How can you beat that?

She told us that this temple in Halebid was known for its beauty on the outside, wheras the temple in Belur was vice versa. There were a few fenced off door ways that she took us to, with small rooms used as shrines. Inside was what looked like a decorated drum. She claimed these were idols, representing Shiva. We couldn't tell if these were the idols themselves or if the idols were underneath, protected from whatever elements there were. We didn't get a chance to ask as she continued on.

Moving outside of the temple, back onto the scorching surface, we quickly moved to a red matted carpet, which absorbed much less of the heat. It circled the temple that we would walk around, but contained several gaps that we would have to run across to avoid being burned too badly. Desipite the hot feet, the weather felt pretty comfortable to me. It was a very dry heat.



Our tour guide continued to point out the various features and carvings on the outside of this hindu temple. The amount of detail in her words and on the temple itself was mind boggling. Each character or group of characters told a story as we wound ourselves around the beautifully ornate building.






Like a lot of Hindu temples we've seen, you typically see layers of the same carvings starting from the bottom (right). The very bottom was composed of elephants, supposedly 1428 of them in all. They symbolized stability. The next layer consisted of lions, symbolizing courage and in the next we saw the horses, which symbolize beauty. The next layers were varying in their characters, often displaying some story, such as a war or a god getting out of some predicament, like Shiva going inside of an elephant to avoid being killed by it (left).

As we continued the tour around the building the soles of feet were cooking to a nice consistency. It become a ritual to brace ourselves for the red hot surface as we ran from old rug ending to new rug beginning, which was some times 6-7 running steps away. At certain points, even the rug itself was practically unbearable to stand on as the sun was unrelelentingly blaring down upon us. Our tour guide asked us if she was boring us, to which I said, "No, this is wonderful". Our attention was diverted by the heat.




My ears perked up though, when she mentioned a section which depicted a battle with Arjuna (bow-carrying guy, above). I've read a little about him in a yoga book I have. He's the main character of an important Hindu text, The Bhagavad Gita. He basically plays a warrior hero who is faced with the quandry of going into battle against men who are his friends and even his relatives. The Hindu god Krishna offers to be his charioteer (cab driver) in the battle, but ends up being much more as he takes him on a magical ride of self discovery. An American book which resembles the Bhagavad Gita is "The Legend of Bagger Vance", which is about a golfer named Runulph Junah (R. Junah) who is pushed by his home town to take part in a gold tourmament against two golf greats, Walter Hagen and Bobby Jones. I definitely enjoyed the read and highly recommend it. If you've seen the movie, that's not enough. The book is different and hundered million times better.

I'm missing a lot of the details of the tour, but the final stretch of it brought us to a section of the temple dedicated to the Karma Sutra, another Hindu text that's mainly known for the sexual positions it depicts. Our guide told us that this section was not meant to just depict a holy Hindu text, but was also meant to be educational. As my eyes passed over this scholastic wall, I found it pretty funny to think of couples approaching it to get some ideas of what they'd be trying out that night. :-)

We completed our circle around the star-shaped Hindu temple and took a b-line to our shoes. The baked bottoms of our feet were well done. We gladly paid the care taker a few rupees for them and quickly laced up. We then took a bit of a walk about the grounds, taking in a pretty view of a lake that stood nearby.

We left the grounds, battling soap stone trinkets held in front of our faces as we scanned the area for Rhagu. The salesmanship intensified as we drew nearer to the saftey of our car and their desparation heightened. "How much would you give me for these three?", one of them said. I had know idea what to say, so I thought a bit of what was in my wallet and said, "200 rupees?" "The person who asked sighed deeply, feigning the look of being deeply insulted. "I worked on this for 3 days". I entered the car and he put his arm, with the trinkets into door. "I'm going to have to shut the door", I said. "Ok, 300!"...and like a sucker, I dished it out. Sale closed.



Tidbits

One thing that is driving me nuts when I go to a restaurant, even the one in the hotel, is that waiters (and I mean plural) hover around you, watching your every move. As soon as put down a glass or a fork, they are right there filling it up or putting more food from the serving dish onto your plate. It's almost as if every resturant has hired a few too many waiters, because I don't think it's just the fact that they want to provide unbelieveable service, I think it has do with the fact that these guys have nothing to do. They just stand there, waiting to be useful. When I go to breakfast in the morning and find a table, someone is there waiting to pull my chair out for me. When I go to get my cereal from the little buffet table, someone insists on pouring milk into my bowl for me. This isn't all of the time, but if you give these guys enough time to figure out what you're going to do, they're all over it. I feel like saying, "why don't you go lie down in the back and I'll let you know when I'm done"

HOT HOT HOT...so the other night, I went out venturing with Mike to Nhandi, a restaurant he had tried with a local IBMer and enjoyed. It was actually pretty fun to take a walk there because one, I generally get driven everywhere and two, there was a neat little street we went down that was filled with shops and these obscure looking little restaurant/bars with food items pictured on their surrounding walls that we had no idea what they were. But anyway, I digress...So we go to Nhandi, this semi-upscale looking place, where they have like 5 waiters per table (no exaggeration) ready to blow your nose for you. We look at the menu and have no idea what these things are, but decide on some prawn dish and these "fried crispy corn" things (sound harmless, which they were). So we order, and the waiter says, "You need to order a gravy dish too, those two are both dry"..."How about this one...is it spicy?"...."Yes, very spicey"..."Ok, pick one for us that's not"..."Let's try this one". So they bring us our orders and lop it all on our plates. We get through the corn and prawns ok, though the prawns tasted a little funky. But then we get to the gravy dish,which is this chunk of vegetables drowned in this orange curry sauce and garnished with these long, hot red peppers that I know not to eat. So I take a few bites, and it's right at my tolerable limit for spiciness...I feel a little sweat, maybe the sinuses acting up, but not bad. Then I take a bite into this green bean and all hell breaks loose, inside of my mouth that is. I imagining smoke coming out my ears as this happened. So I take some water, which makes it worse, and I'm thinking, "No way am I going to swallow this thing." So I get up and go the bathroom to spit it out. But I get to the bathroom and the #2 area (can't call it a toilet, because they just had a hole) door is closed. There is no garbage can and they have no paper towels. I'm screwed. So ended up using the only thing I could use, which was the urinal. Sorry Nhandi, but you're gonna find a wad of bean next to the urinal cake. Enjoy.