Bangalore far exceeded my expectations. Like Hampi, I had not even taken the time to visit during my first trip to India. And one of the primary reasons for this visit was to see an old friend from UCSB.

            Our overnight train arrived in Bangalore at 6am. We caught a rickshaw to MG Road, the commercial center of the city. We checked the rooms and rates at a few hotels, but decided to eat first, as they had a 24-hour checkout policy. Even with no onward travel plans set, we weren’t too keen on leaving our hotel before 7am. So we ate at the only open restaurant we could find at that hour and then killed another couple hours at a Barrista (India’s equivalent of Starbucks), utilizing their wi-fi. This was the first sign that Bangalore is wired. It seemed more modern in many respects than even Bombay. Like Bombay, I barely saw any cows and people generally drove according to the traffic laws. It seemed that Bangalore had modernized, while retaining the traditional methods that were more efficient. I.E. They still allow autorickshaws (unlike south Mumbai), but they’re legally required to use the meter. Bangalore has supermarkets, but small stalls are still around to offer chai and fresh vegetables. Mumbai seemed to have modernized without the retaining a lot of the old (although northern Mumbai) is a different story from south. And Delhi is still mired in the old, too traditional to modernize any way of life. I guess it could be said that Bombay is more westernized, while Bangalore is more modernized (distinguishing Westerness from Moderness). On the downside, Bangalore is pretty polluted/smoggy and traffic is a mess. Bangalore doesn’t really have any attractions and isn’t much of tourist destination. However, we did see quite a few expats around: men jogging in the early morning, women doing some shopping at the supermarket, and suit-clad men in the evenings. In such a homogenous country, it was odd to see non-Indian residents. We spent our first day seeing most of Bangalore’s “sites”: Cummon Park, the aquarium, an art gallery, a science and tech museum, a government history museum, and an old palace. The sightseeing was disappointing; the park was disappointing in light of Bangalore’s nickname “The Garden City,” the aquarium was akin to shopping at Ranch 99, the art gallery was one room, and the science museum was aimed more at children’s field trips than us. On the flip side, we walked around Bangalore and saw a lot and the admissions were mostly a flat rate (most places in India have a foreigner price anywhere from tens to hundreds times the normal price- racists!), so the combined admission of all the museums cost us less than 1 USD.

            The real fun began on Friday night, when we met up with my friend Sekhar. Originally from Bombay, he did his Masters at UCSB, before returning to India to work for GE’s Global Research team in Bangalore. He bought us drinks at a downtown bar and then treated us to a delicious dinner at an upscale Indian restaurant. It was awesome just to see him after two years, much less hang out and catch up with an old friend. The next day, Saturday, we took a rickshaw out to his end of town. First, he took us to a supposedly little-known, but fairly impressive Shiva Temple. Then we caught a bus over to the HAL (Hindustan Aeronautics Limited) museum, which housed a collection of retired (mainly military) aircraft and several galleries of their history in photos. Anyone that knows my fascination with military aircraft, history, and photography can see why I liked the museum. Then came my favorite part of our visit.

            Delhi is known for long and rich history, so people visit the old ruins and forts. Mumbai is known for being a modern financial hub, so people hang out downtown. Bangalore is known for…you probably know it already: India’s technological boom and outsourcing. Yet most non-business travelers never get to see why Bangalore is called “the Silicon Valley of India.” Luckily, we did. Sekhar took us to his office. I wouldn’t call it an office really. I mean it’s a huge campus called the “The John Welch Technology Centre,” named after GE’s retired semi-celebrity CEO. Even before arriving there, just driving through the district was interesting. I was actually seeing everything I’ve read about India’s outsourcing and tech boom. Looking out the window was like seeing the articles come alive; huge campuses (everywhere) of large-cap foreign (Dell and GE) and domestic (Tata Consulting Services) companies and many more still being built to add further capacity (Accenture and GE additions). Like I said, we ended up at the enormous GE campus, where we had to register at the guardhouse, before proceeding through the gates. Having received our bright red “escort required” badges, we started towards the cluster of modern buildings. As we walked down the perfectly manicured path, Sekhar pointed out the huge elevated outdoor (and more space underground) cafeteria. Next to it was a large Japanese garden, complete with pond and adjacent rock garden. I guess the place had a Japanese theme as I saw several more rock gardens within the campus. The landscaping indicated no expense was spared. In fact, later, when we were sitting on a big lawn in the campus, Sekhar pointed out a huge political map of India planted in the grass, each state represented by a different plant. Inside the buildings were interesting as well. What I saw was a huge room, filled with dozens and dozens of chest-high cubicles; managers, analysts, everybody in cubicles. Even on a Saturday afternoon, there were a handful of people working. Mostly empty though, Sekhar showed us around; his desk, the product labs, other labs for research teams to test theoretical work, the gym, and rec room, even a library. For Sekhar, it was just work, but for me it was fascinating. It wasn’t just a call center or some low-level outsourcing (Sekhar’s team consists of PhD’s and Masters grads), but where real work and innovation was being done. Really interesting both on a personal level (my buddy’s office at a company I admire and invest in) and an academic one (example of MNC outsourcing to developing country). We spent the last half-hour chilling on the aforementioned lawn discussing GE, outsourcing, Indian work life, etc. Afterwards, we chilled at a coffee shop and then at Sekhar’s place, before grabbing some dinner and calling it a night. It was an awesome way to spend the day: Sekhar took us to three interesting places not listed in my guidebook, got to hang with him all day (including seeing his place), and had a lot of fun.

            Sunday was a lazy day. We woke up and ate breakfast, after which Joylani decided it was time for a two-hour nap. Sekhar came by in the afternoon and took us out to another great meal. After saying our goodbyes, Joylani and I just hung out and read/wrote for the remainder of the afternoon, going to bed early to catch our early morning all-day train to Kerala the next day. Looking back at our weekend in Bangalore, I really enjoyed it. Sekhar was an awesome host and guide. Yet, it seems that Bangalore is an easy city to like regardless. We were told that we experienced typical Banaglore weather, which was much like Hampi’s, and I wonder if all of Karnataka (not too humid 70s). Sekhar said it reminds him of Santa Barbara weather- who doesn’t like that? So the weather’s mild and agreeable, the city’s modern and convenient, and vibrantly growing. Although I skipped it the first time around, I’d recommend including a quick visit to Bangalore on any visit to India.

 

It’s hard to find the discipline to write. When you’re traveling and seeing/doing stuff everyday, it even harder. And when you’re having fun doing these things, who has time to stop and write? Our more than half week in Bombay was reduced to one post. In Goa, I barely wrote and must admit that some of the posts were written several days after the events. Now, our two days in Hampi have been condensed to one post as well. I’m trying to find the discipline to write a little each day, but for now, this single post will have to suffice.

            Luckily, Hampi was better than I expected. Joylani roughly planned out a South India itinerary for us, when we were in Leh. Since that initial plan, I had considered removing it from our route several times. But Joylani said we should give it a shot, so we did. I was a bit reluctant to leave Goa for Hampi, but it was pleasant surprise. After 100 degree days and mid-80 degree nights, the cool dry Hampi weather was great. Like Goa, our room was part of a lady’s house. Initially it was nice, but she was kind of overbearing in “offering” services (laundry, scooter rental, food, etc.). But we weren’t at the guesthouse much, spending our days in the interesting town and seeing the surprisingly good attractions. I say surprisingly because how interesting could it really be to see more temples? Well, they were pretty cool. But even better than the temples was seeing the totally weird landscape all around Hampi. A couple years ago I read an article that perfectly articulated one of the reasons I travel: to see things I cannot even imagine. What does Hampi’s landscape look like? Rocks. Big round rocks. Everywhere. Okay, so I’m not as good a writer as photographer, so just look at the pictures to see.

The road leading into Hampi

Can’t really tell in this pic, but those ruins are really BIG!

Joylani and freaking big rocks! 

Things I cannot imagine about Hampi’s landscape: Where did all the rocks come from? Why are they so big? How come they’re all round and shaped so smoothly? It’s amazing because these rocks that look like giant pebbles stretch for as far as I could see (even standing on top of some hills). We rented a scooter our first day and checked out some of the more far-flung ruins and just walked a circuit of the smaller ones on day two. Seeing all the temples the first day was fun. The temples were not even as big as many of the rocks, but there were a ton of them, all grouped in geometric complexes. Many of the details adorning the pillars and walls were still intact, as most of the temples are only about 500 years old. Most of the ruins had no entry fee and so we were free to roam around, sit and write/draw, etc. Plus, there were barely any people at a lot of them, as there were dozens and dozens. Not too interesting history or anything to write about, but the temples juxtaposed against the boulder-strewn landscape was very photogenic, so I’ll leave you with photos.

Some tourists and boy carrying a boat to take them across the river…

Banana plantation, some palms, and you guessed it, more enormous rocks

Matt and I have been in Hampi for the last 2.5 days, and leave in a few hours by train. Hampi is a small little village/tourist town surrounded by 500-600 year old ruins. The ruins consist of old temples, palaces, bath houses, market areas, etc. It’s an interesting place, one we almost crossed off our list because we were feeling “ruined out,” but I’m glad we came because Hampi, like the other places we’ve visited, has its own unique character from the rest. The main drag (like every other small town in India, is called the Main Bazaar) has an active temple on one end and temple ruins at the other. The new temple end consists of restaurants, travel services/internet, and souvenir shops.

Towards the other end is “low income” housing—homes people have made out of the pre-existing ruins of the old city bazaar. I think this was a smart use of the space for those who have moved in.

We’ve walked down to the old end each day since we arrived in Hampi. Unique from the other places we’ve been, there are dozens of kids playing outside (probably due to the no cars being allowed on the Main Bazaar or beyond). They’re either digging in the dirt, rolling an old tire, teasing a sleeping dog, or playing cricket on an improvised field. All three times we’ve walked down the road there is this little girl—about three years old—who approaches us, asking something that sounds like “photo boxy,” but we’re not sure if she’s trying to speak English, or, more likely, her native tongue Kannada. Either way, we have no idea what she is saying. We try to ask her questions to clarify, but she just keeps repeating. “Photo boxy? Photo boxy.” (Matt says is sounds more like “futoboxshi”) She’s a sweet little persistent one and would follow us for a while before giving up and walking back home.

Down at the opposite end of the road we’ve made another acquaintance—book shop man. On our first evening in Hampi we had just turned on to the main road when we heard a proper-sounding voice calling out behind us. “Excuse me! Excuse me!” Upon turning around we saw a be-speckled, heavy set (with age), grandfather shuffling towards us, his hand up in the air to wave us down. Not sure what his deal was, we stopped to listen. “Excuse me, there is a bookshop,” he said (high-pitched emphasis on “book”) as he pointed in the direction of his store. I looked where he was pointing and saw a sign with clear red lettering “Book Shop,” indeed it was. The man went on to let us know this wasn’t just any book shop. He also sold incense, postcards, and essential oils. What a bookshop! We politely declined and walked on. The next day the same thing happened, only this time I was ready.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!”

“Hello.” I smiled and said, “There’s a bookshop, right?”

As though he hadn’t heard what I said or remembered giving us the same message the day before, the man stately pointed and announced, “There is a bookshop.”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “Maybe we will come tomorrow; we’re going to take pictures now.” He politely registered my response (not all do) and let us go on our way without another word.

Today Matt and I did plan on stopping by the bookshop to see what books were in stock. We weren’t any less than 10 or 20 yards away when I saw the bookshop man hone into our presence through his thick glasses. He quickly stood up, slipped on his shoes and began to shuffle towards us. “Oh no,” I told Matt. “Hurry and make your way to the bookshop so that he doesn’t tell us the same thing!” We were too late. He was already in front of us.

“Excuse me! Excuse me! There is a bookshop!”

“Yes,” I smiled, “We’re going there just now.”

Finally, it registered. “Ah yes, I remember you from yesterday!” he proudly said.

“What about the day before that?” I thought to myself. So Matt and I went to look at his thrice acclaimed bookshop. Most of the books were about Hampi. In fact, there weren’t that many books at all, and definitely not any I was even remotely interested in reading. I wasn’t interested in incense or essential oils either, so I settled on buying a few postcards and said goodbye to the bookshop man. Walking down the Main Bazaar a couple hours later, we caught a glimpse of him across the street, flagging down another tourist. “Excuse me! Excuse me…”