Golkonda Fort

A Note: I wrote this while I was in India, but I didn't publish it until I returned. The post before this one (below) was actually my last post from my wonderful India adventure!

Ajay and I decided to take a trip to an old ruined, castle, fort dating back to the 1300's, named Golkonda.

It has turned out to be one of my favourite attractions in the area of Hyderabad.

It's really a fantasy ruined castle where my mind was able to get lost in another time.

We arrived in the early afternoon after a long ride of auto rickshaws, passing huge herds of cows and buffalo in the streets surrounding Hyderabad... love the cows!

When we arrive, I was determined to have a guide. We found one that was supposed to be 'official', but the selection was not so great. They all seemed a bit slick.

After debating with him for about 30 minutes over the price, thanks to Ajay's clever negotiating skills, we were able to settle for a hefty price, but lower than what he wanted to charge me in the beginning.

It was pretty amazing, the guide took off running as soon as we got in the grounds.

At first I was loosing my breath trying to keep up with him.

This must have been a 50 something year old Indian man.

Ajay insisted that we take our time and go at our pace, so for the rest of the time we basically saw him off in the distance, we'd catch up, he'd tell us some history about where ever we caught up with him again and then he'd take off running again.

Basically, what he wanted was to get finished with us as soon as he could and then maybe he could pick up some new customers before the day ended.

Besides the sprinting guide, the fort itself was fascinating and architectually really interesting. I think the most fascinating was the perfect acoustics. The slightest sound made at the fort's main gate could be heard at the top of the citadel.

This was demonstrated by clapping your hands at the gate. Later when we were at the top of the hill, what seemed like miles away, it was heard as if the person was standing next to you.

Golkonda was also known for diamond mining in the past. At one time, the king that lived here was supposedly the richest man in the world (so they say) and the whole castle was filled with diamonds, gold, and gems.

These stones all came from the hills in and around Golkonda.

Another high point was visiting the Hindu temple with Ajay. I received a red dot on my head.

I love walking around with that red dot on my forehead... I feel so... Indian!

At the end of our tour, the tour guide took us aside and told us that we could pay him his tip now. Needless to say, after that marathon sprint through the grounds, he did not get much of a tip from us.

Ajay and I hung around on the grounds talking until at 19:00 the light show began. That was also enjoyable and worth the wait.

Thank you India!

The two months have passed and it's so far... I'm back in this cold 'kikkerland' (frog land - Holland) that I love. You may have noticed that I haven't posted a blog in over a month. There are several reasons for this. Below are the three main reasons.

1) As I started to get more into my work, I became deeply involved with what I was doing during the day. Maybe I've been brainwashed, but I have become to really enjoy working with SAP and feel like I've found my niche! I would arrive early in the morning and leave late at night.

2) Every single evening I had a social activity during the week. There was not one evening that went by where I wasn't having fun with my new friends till time for bed.

3) Every weekend I was flying off exploring as much as India as I could. It has been a dream of mine since childhood to see India, and I wanted to get the most out of it while I could. Sadly, I may never be back.

I've included below a bit about my apartment in Hyderabad. I took some photos before I left, I wanted to share with you.

I've included the link to Alanis Morissette's 'Thank U' song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJlxipQoI30

Morissette wrote "Thank U" after returning from a trip to India in 1997. The song expresses the heartfelt gratitude which she felt at the time. That's how I feel myself. Towards the end of my stay, I obsessively was singing the one line 'thank you India' that she repeats throughout the song.

Thank you India.

IBM Guest House

The IBM Guest House was my home for 1 1/2 weeks. I grew to love my room.

It also helped that I have a staff of boys that cleaned my room for me, cooked for me, and washed my clothing for me every day.

I've included some photos of my bedroom, the living room, dining room and the views outside my balcony. I also was privileged to have some very nice suite mates.

One of them being Cumali Aksu who was later sent to India on the SAP Booster Program from the Netherlands like me.

These were actually privately owned apartments that were rented out via a company to IBM.

There was a living room, kitchen, dining room and three bedrooms. Three IBM colleagues would stay in each suite at a time.

Even though we had our own kitchen we would eat in the dining hall where we would have traditional Indian food by the boys who would cook for us.

Needless to say, the food was not always so lovely, so most of the guys would go out to eat at the numerous restaurants nearby.

I think the thing I loved about the apartment the most, besides having great IBM colleagues around all the time, was the balcony and the view.

There was always exciting things going on around on the ground below my apartment on the 3rd floor.

There was a sort of water treatment plant. All day long there were people, chickens, cows, dogs, and people bathing (outside) activities going on. It was so interesting seeing the people having fun together, working fighting with each other, etc...

There were also rice paddies below my balcony.

I was able to watch the people working in the rice fields, plowing with ox, and splitting the rice plants and planting fresh new crops.

Lastly, the boys that worked there were all so friendly. There were about 10 boys working in the IBM Guest House, ranging in ages from 16 to 30's all came from the Indian state Orissa.

They are all from a little village in the middle of the jungle. This job for them is a big opportunity to make a lot of money and to see 'the world', at least, to see something besides their village.

Actually, I was the first foreigner that they had ever spoken to.

When I'd come to breakfast or dinner, I'd pick a ring side seat so I could have fun with them. They would come in smiling and I'd make comments to them and try to make jokes.

Some of them didn't speak a word of English, some of them a bit better.

Honestly, the things I miss from the IBM Guest House are that you can meet all kinds of Indian IBM'rs from all walks of life doing all kinds of exciting things in Hyderabad, I miss having fun with the boys working there and the incredible view from my balcony.

That's about it. For the rest, I'm very glad to be back in my home!

(There will be more to come... Nirvana, Trips around Hyderabad, Kolkata (Calcutta), Kerala, Delhi, Taj Mahal, Goa, Saying goodbye...)

Our Place

I've been to one of the most beautiful open air restaurants I've ever seen.

'Our Place' is located at Charan Pahadi, Road No 10, Banjara Hills, in Hyderabad.

When Mahen and I walked in, it was like walking into a tropical jungle. Most of the restaurant is completely outside and the entire premises is fully covered with greenery.

No matter where you sit, there seems to be a fresh breeze blowing and NO MOSQUITO'S!

The restaurant is filled with local native antiques, bamboo, tropical trees and flowers everywhere, beautiful Indian style wooden pillars, doors and fixtures, natural looking lamps, murals, fountains, lush green plants.

It is also interesting because the main dining area in the middle is on soft green grass that feels really nice on your bare feet. I have no idea how the grass stays so fresh considering that people walk on it every day.

We were there at night, so with the lighting and table arrangement, you don't notice the people around you. The subtle lighting accents and the aesthetic classical Indian music make it almost magical in the evening.

Besides the environment, the food was also superb for a very reasonable price. Be careful though, because they serve a lot of local dishes and they can be spicy. But, that's easy to see on the menu because they have a pepper next to all the hot and spicy dishes.

If ever you are in Hyderabad, I highly recommend it!

Dindugal 40km cycle ride

Earlier in the week I was asked if I wanted to join in a Sunday morning 40 kilometre cycle ride through the Indian countryside, North of Hyderabad.

Up until then, I had only seen city life in Bangalore and Hyderabad. I was eager to see what the Indian countryside had to offer, close up.

On Friday Uzzawal (great name!), one of the organizers of the cycle trip, came to my desk with a colleague Ajay Kumar.

He introduced me to Ajay and said that he lived near me in Kondapur and he would help me get to the location tomorrow.

That was a relief because I find getting around in Hyderabad always a challenge and too costly. Actually I had met Ajay twice earlier at lunch with a large group of colleagues.

From the beginning I liked Ajay, he's the strong quiet type, very kind and helpful. I was looking forward to getting to know him better.

Ajay said that he was happy to help me, and we agreed to meet at 5:45 in front of the IBM guesthouse. I was all set for the big bike ride on Sunday.

The alarm went off at 4:00. And I was already regretting that I woke up so early on a Sunday morning.

I meditated, wrote in my journal, had an early breakfast and was standing there sweating in the early morning blazing sun in front of the IBM Guesthouse, waiting for Ajay.

I started to get irritated, Ajay was 15 minutes late! I hate to be late! I wanted to call him, but I didn't have his number in my phone book.

After cursing at myself for not having his number in my phone, I started searching for any phone number of any colleague at IBM Hyderabad that may have his number. Where is he?

Just then, I saw him coming around the corner smiling and walking relaxed toward me.

After seeing his warm smile I forgot that he was late and was just relieved that he was there to help me get to the location.

Ajay, being a fan of shared auto rickshaws started immediately negotiating with various rickshaw riders to get us a good price to the junction that was about 5 kilometres away, where we were supposed to be 15 minutes ago.

We jumped into a rickshaw full of Indian men; Ajay had found us a lift for 5 rupees each!

A shared auto rickshaw means that we are not the only one in the rickshaw. The driver drives along crowded areas yelling out the name of a location and anyone that's going there, piles on top of the others already in the rickshaw and we all go there together.

It's all kind of cozy actually.

We jumped out of the rickshaw at the intersection and I turned to Ajay expecting him to boldly start leading the way. I then noticed that he was looking around with a puzzled look on his face.

It became clear that we had both proactively printed out the instructions on how to get there, neatly packed it in our backpacks as we were leaving work on Friday, laid it out so that we would not forget it, and then promptly forgot anything to do with instructions as we both left our separate homes.

After walking a few kilometres in several directions, I was starting to recognize the same buildings, cows, old men walking with canes, temples and women sweeping... from several angles.

6 phone calls, several walking sessions and 4 rickshaws later, we finally arrived at the spot, one hour late.

I was expecting people to be upset and irritated, but with typical Indian politeness, no one said anything angry to us. There was just a relaxed discussion of how it all went wrong for Ajay and I, a few serious looks in our direction, and that was that.

We all had bicycles waiting for us. They were all covered with plastic and cardboard / paper as if they were all brand new.

One thing I noticed was that I saw several people unwrapping the plastic and paper and just throwing it on the ground.

The anti-littering movement unfortunately has not had such a huge impact yet here in India.

After posing for a few pictures for the camera, we had one last discussion about safety, the route, what not to do, what to do to make sure we all returned safely, and we headed off, leaving the dust behind us.

It was already after 7:00 and I noticed that it was already warming up. But, I was so excited to be on this cycle ride that I didn't really seem to mind.

Lately when ever I'm outside in the blazing heat, I'm quite thankful for the heat because I know back home in Holland the summer is long gone and everyone has dusted off their fall jackets and are all bundled up, wishing that it were still summer.

For me, it is still summer while I'm in India, so I'm basking in the boiling heat when ever I can!

I was also having problems with the bike. In Holland I think I'm average height, but here in India, I'm a bit tall compared to the rest. My bike was way too small for me.

Have you ever seen the clowns at the circus bicycling around on some little tiny cycle? Well, that's how I felt on my 'child size' bike.

During the whole cycle ride, at every break, I was asking the mechanic, who was also along for the ride to heighten the seat and handle bar just a little higher.

The ride started out nice.

The only problem was all the the huge trucks, rickshaws, cows, dogs, people strolling towards work or whatever, children playing, carts laden with goods and produce and potholes that were all sharing the road with us.

It was still early in the morning so the traffic wasn't unbearable... yet.

There were even stretches of road where we were free of traffic for 30 second gaps.

Those gaps were breaths of fresh air.

In the above photo you see Ajay and I, enjoying the ride.

The man in the back is Surya who I think is waiting for his wife to catch up. There will be more about Surya later in this post.

Besides the traffic, it was really a nice ride. I got to talk to all the different people participating in the trip.

I spent a lot of time cycling next to Ajay who was turning out to be a rather fun guy with a great sense of humour who is really enjoyable to be around. (in his own peaceful quite way)

Every so often I'd leave Ajay's side and would tag along next to others; enjoying their company and getting know to bits about their lives.

After about 10 km's we took our first break. We all were led in yoga-like exercises and stretching. It was fun.

There was also a young boy with us, the son of Venkata Bobba, who annoyingly (he was too young and too fit) was riding effortless in the front the whole time.

During the breaks I would often talk and joke with him.

Besides being athletic, he was also quite smart. His English was almost perfect.

We cycled across beautiful countryside. There were flowers blooming wild along the way and blooming in the trees that lined the road.

As we passed the numerous small farms and villages, there were occasional pigs sleeping on the side of the road and stray dogs everywhere. There were all the small poor houses along the way with colourful people and children playing.

I remember a particular lovely field that was laced with huge boulders, palm trees and tropical plants scattered across the landscape and several peacocks strutting their stuff.

Again, I was thankful that I have this opportunity to live in such an incredible land as India.

However, I was only able to enjoy the scenery for a short while because my tranquillity was shattered as a group of huge tanker trucks came barrelling around the corner, horns blaring and tires screeching, swerving across the road, not letting off on the gas for a moment.

There was one truck swerving past the cyclists and manoeuvring around trucks coming from the other side. It's left wheels picked up a bit and it looked like it was going to tip over and go crashing into the cows, cyclists and trucks that were on all sides of the road.

But, he bounced back on all fours, seemed to actually increase his speed and I saw him zig zag his way over the top of the hill and disappearing in the distance.

If I think back home, something like that would evoke serious reactions.

Here, it's simply the way to drive!

We finally hit half way point, 20km!

After a nice long break and a group 'getting to know each other' discussion, we headed back the same way we came.

It was already getting close to 10:00 and by now the streets were packed with cars all tooting their horns as they swerved pass us at blinding speeds.

The sun also started to blaze with full glory down on our sweating bodies. The heat and distance was starting to become an ordeal and it was starting to take its toll on me. But I just pushed on and ignored any pain that I was feeling. I would not be defeated by 40km of road.

As we passed the little villages and shacks, often people would smile and wave at me. I even had some old men at temples turn and salute me as I passed, yelling something like 'good morning sir'. The farther we were out of Hyderabad the more attention I attracted.

I think some people would feel uncomfortable with all the stares, smiles, waving, people sticking their heads out of trucks yelling nice things to me. But, actually I have grown to really enjoy the attention.

Back home, I'm just another pasty white guy, not so good looking or special in any way. But, here I'm 'special' by some of the people who have never been around Europeans or Americans before.

I can imagine in some of these small villages, where people never go far away, that people only come across a 'Westerner' just a few times in their lives or '2nd hand' through their tv's and in films.

I can't help but like it. It's all meant well and the Indians seem genuinely interested.

When I see myself I can't understand why I'm so noticeable, but I will enjoy it in India while I can.

As you can see in this photo, I am now alone.

Ajay and that 'super' boy and some other very fit guys, have all left me in their tracks.

I still had plenty of people on the cycling trip around me every once in a while to talk to, even towards the end.

But, actually after 30 km, I was feeling too much pain to really have a decent discussion with anyone.

Eventually, and FINALLY, I reached the finish. If you're not used to cycling such distances, 40 km can be a big trek.

As you notice the photo below, taken at the 'finish line', my smile is mixed with exhaustion and pain. I was basically relieved that it was over.

Having said that - I'd do it again if I have the chance. It was worth it.

Another person I'd like to mention on the cycle trip, who works with the IBM Hyderabad team, is Timmapatruni Suryaprakash.

His name is simply impossible for me to fathom! I'm sure that Indian people must also find his name challenging!

Luckily he goes by his nickname, Surya!

Before coming to India, I had little contact with him and what contact I've had since I've been here has always been limited, basically because the man is so stretched with responsibilities.

He doesn't have much time over.

The reason I was amazed by him during the cycle ride is because in his life time, he had only been on a bike once before when he was visiting Holland on a business trip!

In the above photo, you can see him coming across the finish line, with an obvious look of relief on his face.

He finished towards the end, but it's amazing that he did 40 km. I think it gives a hint at his true character.

We all gathered at the end location until everyone else arrived. The last guy to show up was walking... slowly, with his bike besides him... but still he arrived. (I won't mention any names.)

We all sat around in the shade, feeling happy that we accomplished such a cycle ride over hills and valleys, in the burning sun, almost being hit by crazed truck drivers at every turn.

We all decided that we would celebrate by going out for a brunch at a near by restaurant.

It was very nice to sit in the air-conditioning, stuffing our faces with huge dosa's and other delicious breakfast foods and drinking fruit drinks and sweet lassi, joking and laughing about the strenuous bike trip and planning our next one.

After the lunch, Surya gave me and Ajay a lift back to the intersection where we were lost before the cycle trip began hours earlier.

Of course, Ajay was able to get us a shared rickshaw the rest of the way home for just 5 rupees each. He knows how to travel light and cheaply!

After we arrived in Kothaguda we parted ways. I got back to my apartment, took a long hot shower, and crawled into bed.

I remember thinking back at all the wonderful things that happened during that day... I can't remember much more, because I quickly fell sound asleep and slept like a baby for 3 hours, waking up later feeling refreshed, but very sore.

Apology, behind in my posts...

Hello,

This is just a quick note to apologize for not posting as many blogs as I would like to.

The problem is that I'm just having too much fun at work and in my free time.

The only problem I'm having here is that there just isn't enough time to do everything I'd like to do... and write in my blog.

As all these nice people I meet all the time here in India ask me to do fun things with them, I'm confronted with the challenging question.

Do I go out and live, breath, experience, become one with India, or do I stay in my apartment and write about it... which would you choose?

I promise I will post more soon. There is so much to write about and so many kind Indian people (and Dutch colleagues that are now here) to write about.

XXX

Sonny

Ramoji Film City Adventure (i.e. Delhi Belly)

I woke up at a painful 5:00 on a Sunday morning to go to Ramoji Film City with my friends, Kaustubh (Roy) Chowdhury and Ratul Dasgupta.

That was not the only thing that was painful, starting in the night, my stomach was feeling very upset, with sharp pain strikes which could only be relieved by going to the toilet about every 30 minutes or so.

As I was sitting there for 20th time on the toilet, it suddenly occurred to me that I may have a finally caught a case of Delhi Belly.

I always feel that an appointment made, should be kept unless there is a damn good reason not to, so despite feeling sickly, I showered, ate some breakfast, changed and was ready downstairs to meet my friends and go the Ramoji Film City.

We were supposed to catch the bus at 7:00, but of course it was late. During that time I was thinking about staying home.

Then, Ratul and Kaustubh (Roy) also arrived (late), and they seemed so happy that we were all going to Ramoji that I got all excited about spending the day with them and I reasoned with myself that it will all work out for the best.

Lately I had not been getting enough sleep, so I thought that maybe I could sleep a little on the bus and everything would be all right.

The bus finally arrived at 7:30, 30 minutes late, so I just followed the flow and we piled on the 'luxury' touring bus.

The first thing that surprised me was how filthy this 'luxury' bus was. Here in India, there seems to be a broad definition range of what 'luxury' actually means.

When I sat down, there was actual dirt on the seats and garbage lying around on the floor. The windows hadn't been washed, probably since the bus was originally made. I mentioned to the tour operator how filthy the bus was and showed him the filth on the seats.

He looked at the chair, touched it, did not comment, just turned around and walked away. If you ignore it, it will go away.

Since I arrived, I tried to keep the attitude that I would try and be as Indian as possible and try my best to not question.

No one else was complaining, so I sat down and tried not to think about the infestation of little crawling microscopic louse, blood feeding ectoparasitic insects, and skin burrowing - mangy scabby mites that all must have been living and populating in the bus chair since the 1970's.

(Yes, you may have guessed that I have a bit of hygienic cleanliness issues.)

So, trying to forget all the horrible disease ridden infestations that were making their way into my cloths, skin and hair, I sat back, became one with the pests and started to enjoy the ride.

As we drove around Hyderabad, picking up more and more passengers, INDIA was passing before my eyes as I gazed out through the smeary greasy windows of the bus.

Cows chewing meditatively, screeching cars, trucks and rickshaws, masses of tanned leather skinned natives moving along doing countless activities, aggressive policemen bossing people around and hitting people at will with their bamboo sticks - just because they can.

There were strange languages and writings everywhere and constant religious symbols and temples on every street. The whole scene was splashed with colour, exotic images, people walking around and pure chaos.

It's hard to explain what I was thinking. I'm used to an orderly Dutch way of life where everything is placed properly together and it all looks like it was created that way.

In India, I can not help but wonder; how do the streets, people, buildings, cows all stay in one piece?

How can people stay alive sleeping on the sidewalk every night? How can filthy people that probably don't bath and don't have any medical attention live so old and look so healthy?

There is the vibrancy of life every where I looked, but how does it all exist? It just does some how... Yes, I am in INDIA, and I'm part of the chaos and somehow it all seems to work.

I'm sorry if what I just wrote doesn't make sense. The wonder and feelings I get when I see everything around me are hard for me to convey in writing. I see it but I don't understand how it all seems to happen...

Ok, I'm getting into some sort of philosophical existentialism discussion that I can't get out of, so I'll continue with my story.

Meanwhile, things were churning around in my stomach. The bus ride across town and out into the rocky hills surrounding Hyderabad took about 2 hours. Towards the end, my stomach was chanting, toilet, toilet, toilet!!! Where's the toilet!?!?

We finally arrived and the first thing I did was run out of the bus and rush to the toilets.

A funny thing about India's toilets, they are labelled 'He' and 'She'. I'm not sure why I find that funny. But I mentioned it to Roy and Ratul and I think they found humour in my observation as well.

After purchasing tickets, we walked through yet another gate, got back on our 'luxury' bus, drove past shanty towns growing on the property of the park, the bus splashed through open sewers.

I kid you not - ok, it was a swampy wet area that the bus drove through, but by the smell it must be where they dump the sewage.

Finally we arrived at the actual entrance to the park!

When we started walking, I noticed that my head was starting to hurt, throb and pound with every heart beat and step I took. I started to heat up in the hot tropical sun. I also noticed that my body was vibrating slightly any time I moved.

However, being the good trouper, I strove forward. My main concern was that Roy and Ratul should have a good time. I'm a super tough guy who can handle everything. No problem.

Ramoji Film City was not created as a tourist park. It was created for Bollywood filming.

It is like the Hollywood tours in California, they have set up the film city so that tourist can also come and enjoy themselves and look at the sets where their favourite Bollywood films were being produced.

While we were there, I saw several films being shot off in the distance in several areas of the park.

The sets were pretty cool to see. They had mini Taj Mahal and several other famous Indian and world landmarks, palaces, banks, libraries, all these fake buildings were used for filming.

My favourite set was the mock airplane. It was fun sitting in there as if we were flying in a plane.

What was so amazing, the day after my tour, I was watching a Bollywood film and there was a scene in a plane. That plane in the film was exactly that set where I was sitting! That was such a coincidence!

Everything in the park is used for filming, like this photo showing Ratul and myself. Despite being desperately sick, I always seem to have the energy to break out spontaneously in song.

This giant guitar is in front of a fake music studio for when they film people in a movie where they are acting cutting an album.

Despite all the very exciting things to do and see, I couldn't help but deteriorate as the day went on.

After lying down in a gazebo for about 30 minutes, Ratul and Roy convinced me go get help and have the first aid people check me out.

We arrived at the help station. By then I was sweating, having difficulty breathing as I forced myself to walk forward, head and body pains, temperature and my body was vibrating at any movement.

She called an ambulance to pick me up. A little mini ambulance came to drive me to a nearby hospital. The ride was hot, bumpy, and down right horrible. But even then, I managed to continue looking out the window, just so I wouldn't miss a moment of seeing India go by.

It's amazing, even when I'm being whisked to a hospital, possibly DYING, and I'm still peering out the window. I just can't stand to miss anything.

We arrived at the hospital. As you can see by the photo I was near death. ha ha! It looked like some rural hospital with some rural doctor who could barely speak English.

He checked me out, took my pulse, blood pressure and temperature.

It was funny while he took my temperature. I was sitting there with the thermometer in my mouth and I couldn't talk. I suddenly had to go to the toilet NOW!

I wanted to let Roy and Ratul know so the doctor could speed things up. I thought I'd spell it out, but how could I spell it out in a simple way so that my friends would understand?

So I wrote with my finger on the desk 'HE' (remember when I mentioned earlier in this post, that's how they label the toilets?).

After doing it 3 times, to my surprise, I saw a light bulb switch on in Roy's eyes and he immediately told the doctor that I needed to go to the toilet right away.

The doctor literally grabbed the thermometer out of my mouth and said it was enough and I ran off again to some hole in the floor to painfully squat for a while.

The doctor said that I probably ate something bad or drunk some bad water. He gave me a bunch of pills and advised me on what to eat and drink.

I felt very guilty that I was messing up Ratul and Roy's day, but they assured me that it was ok and they were ready to go home anyway.

They're such nice guys, I will never know if they really wanted to stay or not, but I just accepted their kindness and we called a cab and went on home.

This sickness has had a pretty big impact on my health over the week. Actually, I'm still not feeling 100%. I'm also being plagued by cold sores on my lips, head aches, rashes and just plain tiredness.

I'm not sure what caused this, maybe the water I drank or the prawns I ate at Bar One. Maybe it's just all this super spicy Indian food I've been eating that's slowly burning holes in my stomach. Or, maybe it's the fact that I've been getting 4 to 5 hours of sleep some nights.

Probably it was the water combined with all the above mentioned aspects that have cut away at my immune system.

Since I've been sick, I started to focus on getting a full nights sleep. My SAP training is very important and there are too many fantastic things to do and see for me to mess it up by being sick.

Out with Aji!

Aji and I had been hanging out in the apartment living room.

Listening together to our favourite songs on YouTube, it surprised me a lot that when I started singing the song 'raindrops are falling on my head', of all the hot phat cool songs I was showing him, that one was his favourite! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E4VQajJ5Mws&feature=related

Aji lives in the room across from me. He's a very nice, fun loving guy from Kerala (Kerala's a very beautiful coastal state in India). IBM brought him to Hyderabad to work as a developer on a project.

It was a rainy... monsoon rainy, early Saturday evening. The sun was setting and we were wondering where we should have dinner. After the rain had subsided, we decided to go to my favourite Hyderabad restaurant and bar Havili & Bar One.

Bar One had already been featured in an earlier post about Ganesh's birthday party (see below previous post: Thursday, 3 September). I was looking forward to some good food and more gimlets!

It's a wonderful 5 story establishment with something for everyone. A family section where men, women, children can have nice meals.

Actually, the restaurant is called Haveli and the bar is called Bar One - which has a disco, bar and a roof top garden bar / restaurant, but they all seem to be attached to each other and share staff.

The disco (which I hadn't seen yet - see below), bar and rooftop are only frequented by men and no women. It's a typical concept here in Hyderabad.

The rain had subsided and we took off walking between the drops.

We arrived to a crowded restaurant. It was the first time I ate here and when we walked in I knew I found my place!

They had air conditioning and knives, forks AND napkins on the tables! Yeah! I felt relieved that I would be able to give the Indian style of 'eating adventure with my hand' a small break that evening!

Aji and I found a nice comfy booth to sit in. It was extremely plush comfortable leather seating, where I almost sunk away and lost myself in the furniture.

I immediately ordered a gimlet and became very happy when they brought the menu and I saw that there was a large international cuisine section to choose from!

Not to sound like a spoiled tourist, but since I've been having curry or other Indian spice packed foods for breakfast, lunch and dinner, every day, it was a breath of fresh air to allow myself some time away from the daily immersion into Indian food and culture.

The menu was exactly what I was looking for at that moment. A nice big scrumptious plate of fresh prawns smothered in some sort of cheesy fatty calorie packed sauce with rice - pure heavenly decadent yumminess! I also ordered some nice Indian white wine to go with it.

Aji and I, both being rather happy talkative sort of guys, became lost in conversation as we were waiting for our food, when I suddenly found my self drinking water from the glass that was placed in front of me without even noticing what I was doing.

E-gads! The water was from the faucet. I had already drunk half the glass without paying attention to what I was doing. It was pure habit.

For foreigners in India, drinking the water from the faucet is like Russian Roulette, NOT DONE, unless you have a stomach of steal or already have had every slimy stomach bug and amoeba floating around in the various water systems of India!

I had been so careful since I've been in India to only drink bottled water or water that's filtered (and I actually see the containers that it comes from to verify). I thought - oops!

Aji, knowing how drinking unfiltered water could affect a non-Indian, he quickly called the waiter and ordered a litre of bottled water. And, then the food came.

The prawns were OUT OF THIS WORLD delicious! Every bite brought me back to joyful experiences of eating from my pre-Indian days.

As I was scooping up the last prawn/rice/creamy sauce delight, I remember wondering if Indian society would frown upon me if I were to lick the plate. My better judgment got the best of me and I left it completely un-licked.

After stuffing down a huge pile of chocolate mouse and ice cream for desert, Aji had mentioned the disco on the 3rd floor. Of course I was interested to check it out.

We walked into the disco as party crazed strobe laser lights blinded us as we entered. The music was thumping at very high decibals.

There were all kinds of men all over the place relaxing or dancing in groups on the dance floor. It seemed like everyone was having a blast!

Notice I mentioned 'There were all kinds of men...' above? That's because there were only men in the disco. In most nightlife places I've seen in Hyderabad and Bangalore, I have only seen men.

I can imagine, if a woman were to arrive in the disco, especially on her own, I think she would be considered a báááád person!

I wildly danced for about 10 minutes while Aji leaned on a table on the dance floor laughing at me.

As I was enjoying the music, I remember wondering if Aji was thinking that I'm a lunatic. I was not caring so much one way or the other because the thumping Bollywood music was moving me to dance whether I wanted to or not.

I was trying to blend into the rhythmic fervour of all the very thin and healthy Indian guys around me, until I started to feel like I was going to have a coronary arrest and was completely out of breath.

Maybe it was the wine and prawns? Yes! I'll blame it on the wine and prawns!

Since the sweat was pouring off my body and I was breathing so hard I could hardly talk, I decided to leave while the leaving was possible, so Aji and I headed back to the apartments, full of food and life!

Charminar - The heart of Hyderabad

Sorry that I didn't post in a while, but I had such a weekend that involved meeting new friends (easy here in India), touring, and landing up in the hospital. More about landing in the hospital with my next post!

It started out on Friday night.

I had spoken a few times during meals at the IBM guest house with a very nice guy named Kaustubh Roy Chowdhury.

BTW, do you have any idea how to really pronounce that name? I don't. After embarrassingly asking him 20 times how to say his name, he finally just told me to call him Roy.

Above is a photo of Roy. Perhaps it's not the best picture of him, but that's often how I saw him as we were riding along in the rickshaw.

Roy mentioned in passing that he would be visiting the centre of Hyderabad with friends on Saturday.

They were going to go to Charminar, a beautiful arched building at the centre of the city, try Biryani, buy pearls, and just have some fun together, and he asked me if I'd like to go with them.

I said I'd love to (does that surprise you?).

Later, as I was blogging late at night in the living room of my apartment, a nice looking and very friendly guy walked into the room and asked me if I was Earl.

He introduced himself as Ratul and said he was a friend of Kaustubh.

The guy in the photo with the red shirt talking on his phone is Ratul. He mentioned that he would also be going into Hyderabad centre with us and there would be a 4th guy coming along named Vijay.

I instantly hit it off with Ratul. We talked for over an hour and the long conversation ended with me rudely inviting myself to his house in Calcutta (Kolkata) for the Durga Puja festival at the end of September.

He seemed to not mind, and kept smiling that contagious smile of his. So, we continued sitting together till all hours of the night looking at cheap flights from Hyderabad to Calcutta!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Durga_puja

The next morning, Kaustubh, Vijay, Ratul and I started off on our rickshaw pilgrimage to Charminar, the heart of Hyderabad.

The guy with the yellow shirt without a backpack is Vijay.

We were even blessed by a herd of goats strolling down the street which I'm sure had some sort of religious meaning to the Hindu's (almost everything does).

We grabbed a rickshaw and headed happily towards the centre.

Have you ever been to the circus where a tiny car comes rolling into the centre ring and then suddenly about 20 clowns come running out.

That's kind of the look and feel when 4 grown men plus the rickshaw rider are all cramped into a tiny little rickshaw.

That's how we did it all the way to the centre, while the 'mental' rider was following the stampede with his little rickshaw like a raging bull, tooting on his horn when ever he had an opportunity.

We were all on a mission! We were in search of adventure, pearls, history, and biryani and having a blast, joking and laughing the whole way.

The rickshaw driver was on a mission as well, he wanted to get us to our destination a.s.a.p. so he could quickly drop us off and rush to the next victim so he could earn his living.

After he dropped us off halfway to the centre, we struggled for about 20 minutes to find a rickshaw that was willing to drive us on to Charminar.

We finally found our next speed racer that agreed to taxi us forward with back aching speed.

Here's a little test, did you notice that one of the passengers in the above photo suddenly has a white t-shirt?

That's because people often just hop into the rickshaw and tag along for a while and hop off when they are close to their destination. At that time there were six grown men crammed into one tiny rickshaw!

After a while we came to a grinding halt and I realized why so many rickshaw drivers didn't want to take us to the centre. It was one giant traffic jam.

I would have suggested we get out and walk, but the streets and sidewalks were wall to wall rickshaw and we couldn't manoeuvre through it anyway.

Eventually we arrived.

It was very clear that we were in an old and ancient location.

I'm sorry to say that I could not say that it looked so beautiful.

The houses and buildings lining the streets of an older grandeur time had fallen hopelessly into disrepair and laid victim to piles and piles of advertisements from top to bottom that were all probably put up in the 1970's and people just couldn't bother to bring them down.

The people in the centre seemed less happy than what I've become used to in India and some of the sales men on the side were almost desperate / aggressive to get our cash.

In my experiences so far, I would smile at the people around me and they would light up with those lovely Indian glowing smiles, here in the centre, I did not have the same feeling.

To be honest, I did get a few nice reactions, but the smiles were more reserved and often the glances back were vacant or mistrusting.

This was the first location in all of India so far where I felt more like I was in a Muslim country than Hindu.

I was told that the centre of the city is 90% Muslim and it's clearly visible.

A lot of the men were wearing different versions of the little white Muslim caps called taqiyah's and the majority of women were wearing head to toe burqa's.

Here in this Muslim enclave, it seemed in place. And I must say, most of the Muslim men and women were very tall and thin and looked quite elegant covered in their flowing sherwani's and burqa's.

This was also the first time that I saw thin (dying) men on the streets and sidewalks where I was afraid to look too long because I was not sure if they were alive or dead.

I asked my day trip buddies what they thought about it, and they just gave a bit of an uncomfortable smile and that was that.

However, it was also quite clear that at one time it all must have been very beautiful. Hyderabad was one of the richest cities in India, maybe the world. It was a centre for trading pearls, diamonds and gems.

As we made our way towards the centre square, there were arches one after another on the streets, perhaps remnants of the old walled gates protecting the city, leading up to the giant 4 sided arch in the middle, Charminar.

When we arrived at Charminar, we wanted to go up to the look out half way to the top. At the entrance gate I experienced a dose of 'reverse' discrimination.

My Indian buddies were all charged 5 rupees and the guy at the gate told me that I had to pay 100 rupees because I did not look Indian.

I understand the concept, but I don't agree with it. I know a lot of people do, so I won't go into it here.

As we climbed the tower, I felt like I was climbing the tower of an old medieval castle. The walls were all uneven with rocks and ancient stones sticking out.

There were little tiny openings for windows and little tiny child height hallways heading off to mysterious closed off rooms and chambers.

The steps were too high apart from each other, just enough to make it, but wide enough to make it uncomfortable and to start giving pain in the knees.

Because the space was so small, the curve in the steps were really sharp, making one leg super tired from doing all the work and other leg was just being dragged along behind.

Actually, I like that kind of 'oldie' stuff. As I was ascending, my mind easily slipped into a time warp and I suddenly time travelled to medieval India, and of course in my fantasies, I was playing the part of the king of the castle...

The views were really good from the arched walkway high above the bustling and noisy city below.

There were endless interesting things to see from all four directions. I remember being amazed that so many people live in this city and that there were no really tall modern office buildings to be seen.

Hyderabad city has a population of 4 million people. But then again, house after house, as far as the eye can see, is cramped next to each other for kilometres all the way out to Kothaguda where I'm staying. At least this city lives in the centre, even if it is of humble heights.

After leaving Charminar, we decided to go in search of pearls along the huge square surrounding Charminar.

We looked for the nicest building we could find because we were all nervous about spending our money and walking away with some very high quality enamelled plastic, instead of high quality pearls at reasonable prices which this city is known for.

They say that you can tell if it's a pure quality pearl by holding a fire to it for over 30 seconds. Afterwards, you should be able to just wipe the black smoke markings away and it will look just as lovely as before.

Of course, when the pearls are already on the necklace, that's a bit hard to do because they were held together with string.

After running away in horror from several shop owners who seemed overzealous to get us into their shops of boggles and bangles, we passed a shop with only one chubby little boy in front who didn't care if we came into his shop or not.

To reduce the high pitched sales pressure, we decided that this would be the shop for us. 'Great Pearls' is a wonderful pearl shop run by two clever young business 'boys' who know their pearls. The youngest one looked like he's 12, but he told us he was 16.

Most Indian boys are super thin with that lean hungry look, but not these two pearl savvy boys. They knew their pearls so well, I'm sure they are well fed from all the good sales they make.

My friends bought buckets of beautiful pearl necklaces and ear rings for their wives and daughters and/or female friends back home.

I thought it was particularly cute that Vijay bought the cutest little pink pearl necklace for his 1 year old daughter.

Here in Hyderabad it's actually affordable, I wonder how much all those pearls would have cost them if they had bought them in Amsterdam!

Pearls aren't really my thing, but I had a blast having fun with my friends, checking out the quality of the pearls, pretending to be an expert (as if I had a clue) and kidding with the sales boys.

I didn't buy any necklaces and other girly pearly stuff. I'm going to be here for too long to buy some expensive pearls and leave them lying around in my apartment, tempting the cleaners. So I may come back later and buy something.

Actually, I wouldn't mind buying something for myself with a pearl or two, but it seemed that all the items for sale were for females.

After spending so much hard earned rupees, we were all fairly exhausted, and loaded down with buckets of pearls. Shopping for pearls can be hard on a man!

We decided to check off the last item of our Hyderabad Centre 'to do' list, and that was to eat biryani. We asked our two chubby brother sales 'boys' were we should go and they told us that the best place around Charminar is Hotel Shadab.

Really... it's pronounced Shut up! They say their d's like t's and the p's like b's.

I really loved the name so much. It gave me hours of pleasure just thinking about how funny the named sounded.

At least it's quiet at Hotel Shadab, because if not, you know what the hotel manager will yell at you! 'SHUT UP!' Ha ha ha! I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, so we went to Hotel Shadab (tee hee) to get us some heap'n help'n of Hyderabad hospitality.

The restaurant looked rather 'Indian elegant' with a lot of gold and opulent textures and fabrics in the carpeting, curtains and chairs. There were some huge fish swimming in an aquarium that looked like mini-sharks. I noticed a lot of women dining in burqa's.

With all this elegance, I was surprised when I went to the toilet, to find a smelly dirty room with just a hole in the ground to squat over and a window facing in so the men waiting their turn could check to see how the squatting guy is doing.

I know I may sound a bit spoiled with my American/Euro ways, but I just couldn't use it. It was too weird.

Later after the meal though, I REALLY needed to go (Indian food seems to go rapidly through me), so I put my dignity aside and I went ahead and immersed myself yet deeper into Indian culture.

Actually, as I was sitting... um... I mean squatting there, I notice how ergonomically efficient this way of using the toilet is.

Also, they have a water hose there so you can take, like a little bath when you're done. That's actually fairly hygienic. Ok, I won't go anymore into the subject for those who are not interested in those types of things. But if you get the chance, you should try it.

The meal was so-so.

Since before I came to India, all I heard about was the biryani and how fabulous it is.

I just don't see it?

Here is a picture of Ratul saying something humorous and Vijay being amused.

The biryani was good though. I could also imagine, if you finish off a pot of biryani, you would have enough energy to last you the whole day and beyond.

It's basically rice with chicken, meat, or vegetarian mixed in. The big fun of the meal was actually my 3 friends and watching all the exotic scenes and people go by. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyderabadi_biryani

Ganesh #3

It was the last night before they would be taking all the Ganesh idols all over Hyderabad to be immersed in the Hussain Sagar Lake in the centre of the city. Before dinner I ran down a block away to the Kothaguda cross roads in my little village of Kondapur.

I had just discovered that there was a video option on my camera! Sorry, I'm not so technical. I took several videos of the festivities, and these three are my favourite.


They were taking down the Ganesh temple that they created just for the festival. The Ganesh temple is the structure in the above photo with all the lights.

They had loaded up Ganesh on to their truck and the drums were getting warmed up to make the long trek into the heart of Hyderabad to immerse Ganesh along with the 10,000 other Ganesh idols and their worshipers who were already heading to Hussain Sagar Lake.


I couldn't stay so long because dinner was ready in 30 minutes. I just want to post the video I made of the drummers.

I just wanted to add the below photo. When I was filming the guys who were dancing (in the above video), they ran up to me and asked me to dance with them.

Of course, I could not say no, so again I was dragged into the dancing Ganesh mob.

The two guys in the photo waited for me and escorted me back to the apartment. saving me from having powder thrown on me and dancing for hours and ending up kilometres away.

The both work at the service apartments where I live.

The one on the left is part of the staff that brings me my meals every day and the one on the right drives me to work.

I've heard their names plenty of times, but Indian names are very complicated, it's not that easy to remember them all.

My goal is that by the end of my adventure here in Hyderabad, I'll have memorized the entire staff at the apartments. I like them all. They are all so kind and helpful... they deserve it.

The Other Ganesh

Last Sunday I was invited to my first Indian birthday celebration.

It was Ganesh's birthday, no - not the Hindu Ganesh god (see post Tuesday, 1 September 'Jai Ganesh'), but Ganesh the assistant manager of the apartments where I live.

He's from Bangalore and has only lived and worked in Hyderabad for a month.

He basically works all the time and hasn't had a chance to make any friends since he's been here.

Isn't he cute!?!? He's kind, works hard and is very (very) fit. Doesn't he have lovely teeth? When we were relaxing at the bar, I think I talked about how lovely his teeth were for about 5 minutes.

He didn't seem to mind. Actually his smile became brighter the more I discussed it.

He's looking for a Dutch wife by the way. Very tall ones are particularly interesting for him. So, if there are any single tall Dutch women reading this, please send me your credentials and I'll arrange everything!

He also invited Mr. Gomes. Mr. Gomes is the apartment manager. I have no idea what his first name is. I call Ganesh, Ganesh. I call Mr. Gomes, Mr. Gomes. And, they both call me 'Sir', which I like very much and is not so difficult for me to get used to.

Ganesh, Mr. Gomes and Sir (me), on a Sunday afternoon, met up at Bar One.

It is currently my favourite bar in Hyderabad.

We all ordered our first round of drinks.

I found a new favourite drink which I've only seen at Bar One called a Gimlet.

Apparently it's a pretty popular drink known all over the world consisting of gin and lime juice: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gimlet_(cocktail)

Bar One makes its own version that is very delicious with some other things in it and crushed ice so it's presented more as a margarita. I tried to remember the other things that are added, but for obvious reasons - you'll find out why as you read further - I completely forgot.

As our birthday present to Ganesh, we would treat him. However, typically Indian, Mr. Gomes insisted that he would pay for everything... we like Mr. Gomes!

Mr. Gomes, being the hospitable type, ordered some Indian nuts and fries, of course we needed another round of drinks to wash them down, and I was enjoying my next gimlet.

We were having a great time talking and before I knew it, Mr. Gomes had sneaked in another round of drinks, including a rather tasty gimlet. Ganesh was being very respectable and was ordering cola.

It was now our time to sample some Indian hors d'oeuvres (hors d'oeuvres = fancy way to say snacks/appetizers).

Mr. Gomes ordered a few things. Don't ask me to repeat the names of everything; it's all a blur, especially after 'fun with gimlets'.

He wanted to see how spicy I could go, considering I keep telling everyone that I want to be as Indian as possible when I'm here.

So he ordered some spicy chicken, and another round of drinks, including my 5th gimlet and by now Ganesh decided he was missing out, so he ordered a beer.

The hors d'oeuvres came out and everything tasted really good. The chicken seemed to be fried and in small pieces. It was red with a lot of herbs and sauces on it.

In the beginning it wasn't so spicy, and I was really enjoying it, so I started to dig in and devour the platter. Suddenly I started feeling a tingling feeling on my lips, and before I knew it my lips were burning hot!

I asked for some yoghurt which helped a lot (tip: if you eat spicy foods and you want to cool down, yoghurt works great!). However, it did not completely cool me down, so I needed another gimlet to help with the cooling.

We had finished all our food and drinks and I thought we were getting ready to leave. Mr. Gomes asked if we were ready to go, and we said we were, so he did what all Indians are supposed to do, he ordered one more for the road.

In this last photo, you see that my face is rather red. It's not what you think!

It's not from the gimlets or the spicy chicken, my face was still coloured from my Ganesh procession adventure the night before.

I happily slurped down my last gimlet for the day and we left.

It was a very simple and small birthday gathering, but Ganesh said that he really enjoyed the afternoon.

Ganesh and I met up the next day and he repeated his enthusiasm so I think that Mr. Gomes and I did an ok job in giving him the birthday he deserves.

BTW, the next day I was still feeling that hot chicken in more ways than one!

Jai Ganesh!

India is in the middle of the big Hindu Ganesh festival.

No other Indian city (except Mumbai (Bombay)) celebrates this holiday as much as Hyderabad.

To learn more about Ganesh, click on the title which has a link that tells all about Ganesh.

There was a Ganesh procession heading towards my apartment building on Saturday evening.

The drums were becoming louder and louder as the procession became closer. I ran down from the stairs with my camera out on the street. I wanted to just get a few photos of this incredible 'pure India' Hindu festivity.

As they approached, there were about 50 men; most of them were covered with red and green powder, dancing wildly, with drums playing ancient Hindu rhythms. Behind them was 1 huge giant Ganesh idol followed by 4 smaller ones.

When they were closer to me, they saw me taking photos and they ran towards me, dancing like mad men in front of me and posing for my camera.

They looked like primitive tribal men with all the colours splashed over their bodies. Of course, as usual, they all had those endearing beautiful Indian smiles.

Some of them could speak English, and they started asking me all kinds of questions about my self.

One of them asked politely, if I would please dance one time with them. I thought 'why not', what could it hurt. Besides, I can and do dance, so I'd just do a little something and then gracefully bow out.

When I approached the inner group, a very nice young man named Venkatesh introduced himself and gently pushed me forward into the centre of all the action. The music paused and everyone stopped dancing and looked at me.

Then the drummers started up even louder and enthusiastically as before in anticipation that I would start to dance. I took a deep breath... told myself again 'why not' and started jumping and dancing with all my heart to the deep Hindu rhythms.

All the men broke out in accepting smiles and they all started dancing (some what erotically - I might add) along with me! Next thing I knew, I felt something hit me on the head. It was a big handful of that red powder.

Suddenly I saw red powder being thrown at me from all directions amidst all the passionate cheers. I was covered in it, all over, also in my mouth. Then someone behind me put a blue ribbon around my head like the others in the group.

I thought to myself, 'hey, what can this powder hurt, it will all wash off in the shower'.

So I kept on passionately dancing with my new found friends.

After practically passing out from exhaustion from 5 minutes straight dancing at full tempo, I thought that the sensible thing to do would be to stop, thank the guys for this great experience, and go on my way... and wash off all that powder a.s.a.p.

As I started to walk away, suddenly Venkatesh (quite a stout little strong guy) and another man grabbed my legs and lifted me up on their shoulders while they were dancing.

I started to wave my arms around to the music as they carried me along with the forward moving procession.

Eventually they sat me down and I started walking and talking with Venkatesh, and then something touching happened.

A lot of the men came up to me and thanked me and shook my hand. Some even bowed and placed the top of their heads on my stomach (as a sign of respect and appreciation).

I don't think I've ever experienced such a heart warming welcome. Then Venkatesh (shown in the above photo whistling) pinned the groups badge on me saying that I was one of them now.

It turned out that all these guys belonged to the same company that services Hi-Tech City, Hyderabad with their electric installations. Venkatesh turned out to be a supervisor. He introduced me to his (ex) manager, Srinivasa Rao.

Srinivasa then introduced me to his manager, and he introduced me to his manager, and so on. Until I was sampling Indian rum with the top honchos, before gleefully jumping back into the middle of the mayhem!

We danced along for a few kilometres. I especially enjoyed the company of Srinivasa and Venkatesh, partly also because they both spoke good English.

As we proceeded forward, after I'd loose myself in dance for a while, when I needed a break, I'd often run to the security of Srinivasa and Venkatesh.

Actually, they both seemed to be taking care of me during the whole thing and they were controlling the crowd around me from over enthusiastic partiers and so that I would enjoy myself more.

The procession eventually made it's way to the edge of the village where I live (Kothaguda) and Srinivasa said that they all would be going by car to the another village to continue and to meet up with some other employees.

He asked me if I wanted to join. I began to hesitate, and I remember thinking, what would be the most sensible thing to do.

After all, this could be dangerous. Who knows where I could end up? What if I get lost? What if they are really looking for a human sacrifice...? Actually, that thought did cross my mind, but only in my horrid imagination. I could tell I could trust them.

I 'sensibly' thought about it, very carefully, and then I thought. We will have no sensible thinking around here, at least not tonight, and I said 'Sure, I'd love to!'

They were all loading on to the trucks holding the idols and Srinivasa had a nice big luxury car and asked me if I would like to ride with him.

Just then Venkatesh mentioned that he had a motor scooter and asked if I'd like to ride with him!!! Would I ever! I hopped on the back and said 'Let's go!'.

We took off faster than lightning into the night, leaving all the processional idols and cars behind. The night breeze was blowing in my face as we dodged cars and potholes going at top speeds of 80 km an hour. I remember thinking, if I die tonight, it was worth it.

We arrived at the next village early and we sat and talked about our lives. He's in his late 20's, lives in a 2 room apartment with his father and 2 brothers. Loves his work as a supervisor and seems to really care for the welfare of others.

We exchanged e-mail addresses and phone numbers. He said he wanted to show me more of Hyderabad and the area where we were staying.

We saw the big fat Ganesh elephant / gods roll by from our group. We hopped on the motor again, drove into the village and joined the rest of the guys.

We eventually hysterically danced our way into a valley where there was a small reservoir, and they started to prepare the idol to be immersed in the water.

At the end of the 10 day celebration, the Ganesh idols, made of clay, are submerged into water where they slowly dissolve.

I've tried to find out why, but it seems no one knows the reason that I've spoken with.

The manager conducted the ceremony with fire, incense and chanting. Then, they slowly moved the idol towards the water's edge and after a lot of heaving and hoeing, they finally tipped Ganesh into the water and it quickly sunk.

They started to bring forward the next Ganesh to conduct the same process when Srinivasa asked me if I wanted to join him in his car to talk.

He shared water and roasted beans with me.

We spoke to each other for a long time.

I was thinking about going to watch the rest of the festivities, but the most valuable thing I can take back from me is my experiences with all these wonderful Indian people I'm meeting.

So I stayed in his car (BTW, fighting off mosquito's) until some people walked over and said that it was finished and people were leaving.

Venkatesh said he was going to head back and asked me if I wanted a ride. OF COURSE! Even though, Srinivasa kindly offered again to drive me home, I couldn't pass up another opportunity to ride like the wind on the back of Venkatesh's scooter though the warm Indian night, so I took off with Venkatesh.

He dropped me off at my apartment, gave that warm Indian smile, shook my hand and placed his hand on his heart, nodded and drove off in the darkness.

I walked up towards my room, stopped off at the manager's office to show Mr. Gomes (the apartment manager) what had become of me.

He just laughed and said I looked like a monster. As I was telling him about my fantastic evening, I noticed the hotel staff coming to the side door of the office and laughing, waving and smiling.

As I went up to my room, they all took turns shaking my hand and each of them said 'good night sir', one by one, with genuine respect. They seemed to value the fact that I am so interested in their culture and wanting to be as Indian as possible while I'm here.

'I really do look like a monster', I remember thinking as I looked at myself in the mirror.

Immediately I threw off all my cloths and jumped in the shower (sorry, (or thank goodness) no photos of that).

I was relieved as all the red, green, pink colours flowed off my body and down the drain.

I saw that the red was being splattered all over the walls and the curtains of the shower and I thought that this is the view that an axe murderer has after he's done his deed and is showering off the evidence... sorry, my horrid imagination again.

I dried off, noticed that there was still a pink colour coming off on the towel and I was thinking that this was the last remnants of evidence of the nights activities... until I looked in the mirror! OMG! The colour was still there!

All I could think of was walking through the halls at work on Monday with a pink face!

I drew a bath and ended up washing my face 50 times, until my skin started to hurt!

Actually, by Monday there was still colour on my face, but it was little enough that I didn't look like some weirdo, but just enough remnants for my Indian work colleagues to see that I'm enjoying India.