Well, that is it for me. All joking aside, I need to go home. Each time I see my daughter and wife on Skype (thank heaven for Skype!), it reminds me how much I miss home.
I actually handed my notice in about three weeks ago but neglected to publicise it on these pages for obvious reasons. Originally I was due to go home around the middle of May but circumstances, and the kind actions of my line manager, have allowed me to come home earlier than envisaged.
Don’t get me wrong, India has been an amazing experience and I am grateful for it. I have experienced a whole different way of life, had my eyes opened to new and intriguing things, expanded my cultural knowledge and met some pretty good people in the process.
Of course there had to be one last hurrah at the Novotel on Sunday. No point in expanding on that as regular readers will know how it is an orgy of gluttenous eating, demonic drinking and lounging by the pool for hours afterwards because that was as far as one could manage to walk afterwards.
I did have very mixed emotions whilst I was sitting in the international departures lounge of Hyderabad airport. On the one hand I could not wait to get back to Blighty and be with my family again, I was also conscious that this was the end of an era and I was going to miss it in a way.
As time goes on the bad memories fade, and only the good ones remain don’t they? I like the way your mind does that and I will look back fondly on my time out there.
Still, time to move on and start the search for a job. Thank you all for following my adventures and reading my blog, especially those who were kind enough to suggest that I send this on to a publisher or two. You know, I might just do that………..
Best wishes
Neil
Friday, April 17, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Thursday 26th March to Weds 1st April 2009
I’m an Englishman………Get me out of here!! Strange way of starting a blog entry isn’t it? Not too mention being a reference to a despicable example of tabloid television that has now made its way into the national vocabulary to, becoming nothing more than a vulgar cliché. Sorry, I digress, why did I start this way? Well, I was being driven back to the villa last night and, as I turned into the driveway, I suddenly became very self-aware that I was staring at this chap that was walking past. Why was I staring? Because he was white, nothing other than that. He did not have pink hair, unfeasibly large man-boobs, or any other distinguishing feature other than his skin complexion. I have become so used to being stared at for my own fair skin that I have started doing it myself. I have clearly been here too long.
Two of my colleagues returned from a trip to Delhi Tuesday night and on the way back from the airport they passed a checkpoint on the road. Now, I should probably explain that it is not uncommon to see checkpoints, with a number of armed guards, on the roadside. In fact it is quite common and understandable given the volatile nature of India and its surrounding countries. When I asked what these checkpoints were for I was met with two possible explanations, one of which did not surprise me….and one that did. Apparently they sometimes do these spot-checks as a counter terrorism measure. Yep, I expected that one……..there are elections going on here and Indians seem to love nothing more that blowing up their politicians just so they have a name for their new airport. The second one was less expected, drunk drivers. Yes, they look for drunk drivers at these checkpoints as well. Odds are that, if you got caught, it would only be a question of how much, ahem, “fine” (read bribe) you would have to pay before you were on your way again, but it got me thinking though, how do you spot a drunk driver in India? My thoughts on the chaotic nature of the roads and the drivers out here are well documented on these pages so, how would you spot one? Well, the logical conclusion is this………a drunk driver in India can be isolated by the fact that he will be the only one driving at a sensible speed BETWEEN the white lines that you and I know as “lanes”.
If further proof were needed of how money greases the wheels of bureacracy out here then I shall provide it. I shall not name names, but my friends recently purchased new motorcycles so they could go cruising at weekends. I am told that the roads actually improve out of town by and large so this I can understand why this would appeal. However, in order to ride on Indian roads, like most countries you require a driving permit or licence. Unlike most other countries though the system for obtaining driving permits goes like this……first, you send one of the locals you are friendly with to go and fill out all of your forms for you and stand in each of the queues required to get the relevant part of the form stamped, great, you have just saved yourself an hour or two, then you present yourself at the local office for your test. This is easier than it sounds I am told and, once completed, you are presented with your shiny new Indian driving permit. The whole process costs a mere 600 rupees (approx £9)…….100 rupees for the actual permit itself and 500 rupees for the examiner to take the test on your behald before he politely smiles and says, “congratulations, you have passed”. What it does not cover is the cost of the world’s smallest book though, namely the Indian Highway Code……..that, if you can find one, you have to buy yourself.
Weekend comes, and we have elected to go to local fish market to get some “fresh” fish for a barbecue. You have to get up early for this place because it starts at 6am, and finishes around 10:30am, and I was told in advance that many of the hotels and restaurants come to this place to source their fish so I was looking forward to it, and expected much. I wasn’t disappointed, well, it wasn’t what I had envisaged but it was still a great experience. Certainly it was crowded, but aren’t all markets like that? It’s held in what looks like a town square, around the edge you buy the fish, and in the middle people clean and scale it for you. We picked out something called Marrel, another fish (the name of which escapes me) and some prawns from what I can only describe as an old time fishwife. I had read about them in Dickensian novels but believed they had died out long ago, but then many things you would have assumed to have been long since lost still exist in India (see Austin Ambassador cars and Royal Enfiel motorcyles – they still make both here). How did I know this fish was fresh? Well, the Marrel certainly was as it was still alive when we picked it out!!! Of course, we had to get this fish cleaned (why do it yourself when you only have to pay 100rupees and someone will do it for you?), so off we went. Two swift whacks over the head of the Marrel with her cosh and she begins to brush the scales off…..but the fish still moves. A blow to the body, another to the head, and she begins to cut off the fins…..yes, fish still moving at this point. Yet more head shots and this fish would not give up. Only after she had actually cut the head off did it finally quit, (no, I don’t know why she didn’t do this in the first place either?). I confess I found this quite brutal at times. We need to eat, and we need to eat meat/fish as that is part or our natural diet, but do we have to make our food suffer so much beforehand?
Valentines Day has been and gone a long time ago I know, but a sign on the back of the bus this morning had me thinking about the ultimate present for your loved one. I confess, I did only get my wife flowers for Valentines this year. The fact that I was nearly 6000 miles away meant it was difficult to find anything else. Believe me when I say I trawled through the various gift sites for inspiration, but with the cost of postage and difficult in ensuring that what you are buying isn’t utter crap, I felt it better to play safe (well, that is my excuse and I am sticking to it). Maybe I was wrong though because this advert could have given me another option. The strap line said “gift your loved ones – give them a health check up at Vijaya Diagnostics”. So, you can buy vouchers for these places now it seems. In the same way you would maybe buy book tokens or a red letter experience back home, you can show the one your life partner how much you care but gifting them the experience of a smear test or prostate examination (delete as applicable) for Valentines Day. Remember, nothing says “I love you” like a free, invasive medical procedure!!!
Gods honest truth, sign outside a shoe shop in Hyderabad read “Special Offer – Buy One Get One Free”…………..’nuff said!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
11-15th March 2009
Well, I’m back (for my sins). I managed to miss yet another Indian festival, this time called “Holi”. You may recall the kite flying festival we had a while back? And how ridiculous it was to have a national holiday just so you could fly a kite? Well this was along those lines trust me. “Holi” means the festival of colours (a somewhat flowery sounding title – pun intended), but it is nothing of the sort. What it actually means is yet another excuse for people to take a day off work and get drunk. People simply go crazy around this time evidently and cover each other in as many different dyes as they can lay their hands on, egged on by a special “holi” punch drink laced with Marijuana apparently! Evidence of this stupidity was all around, as I was being driven from the airport to the villa, in the form of large numbers of purple people staggering around the streets at 10am on the morning. Either it was a serious case of the morning after the night before……. or the remnants of an Oompah-Loompah’s stag party!!
Everything is image in India as well. People give themselves grand titles even though they carry no real importance. Even tuk-tuks are fitted with numerous aerials, giving the impression that they could (at any moment) transform into a two-stroke, 125cc version of the Batmobile at any moment. Still, to them it looks good I guess. Sometimes they do remind me of home though, like the way that the younger tuk-tuk drivers put huge sub-woofers in the back of their vehicles and neon lights underneath. A sign maybe that they are reaching out to their knuckle-dragging brethren that are often seen frequenting Southend seafront?
Quite often, at most road junctions, you will see an official controlling the traffic (well, I say controlling). Always a man, never a woman (signs of this being a very masogonistic society are everywhere). Clad in sharply-pressed beige trousers, crisp white shirt that would not look out of place in a Daz commercial, and a hard hat (why?) , he places himself in the middle of the road to ensure maximum opportunities for him to be run over. Then he proceeds to do absolutely nothing. Traffic still comes from all directions, people still swerve everywhere, and pedestrians still cross the road whenever they feel like it, half-heartedly raising their arm and outstretching their palm as if they were King Canute holding back the tide!! Bizarrely enough, it works though, and no one gets irate with this system of understood chaos. Perhaps our society is too well-ordered and people have forgotten how to think for themselves? All joking aside though, the upshot of Daz man stood in the middle of the road is generally to bring about more chaos than if he were not there………. it must be, because if you drive past one of these junctions at any time when there is no-one attempting to control the traffic and it seems to work much better!
Yet another example of the irony of the country I find myself in is the example of next doors dog, a young Golden Labrador. He is a friendly, happy soul as these type of dogs generally are but he barks almost incessantly, why? Well they chain him to the gate at the front of the house 24 hours a day. He has nothing but the length of the average dog lead in which to exercise and for any dog that is not enough, let alone one with the boundless energy of a Lab. We have asked about buying the dog but they are having none of it. When we ask why they do this to him they simply reply, “because he is naughty”. How is he expected to learn what is right or wrong if they never take the time to teach him? The one time I did see someone trying to teach him basic behavioural patterns he was rewarded with a stick being whacked hard across his nose if he did not comply first time……..no way to teach a dog is it? Yet, and this is the irony, having seen many dogs walking the streets searching for food, some with puppies, this dog is one of the “luckier” ones.
Power cuts (yes them again), are becoming more frequent it seems, and planned. They will often occur during the day, around 10am, and the supply will be off for around 4-6 hours. This is because there is simply not enough generating capacity to cover the existing requirements for the city. So what is the solution to this problem you ask? Well, if you are Indian, the solution is to build many more office blocks and houses. Yup, constructions are everywhere and not one of them is a power station! Do these people not think of the supporting infrastructure needed for these places? To be honest, I am seriously considering taking a cart and a horse to the offices of the Greater Hyderabad Municipal Council and asking them to assemble them in the correct order…..how do you think they will get on? What is quite amusing is how, when we have these power cuts at night, the guards that patrol our complex will blow their whistles in turn to signal to each other “all is well”. These guys are tremendously regimented in their approach like that, they salute you each time you go in and out and they conduct drills every night at the gate. Despite all this, I still cant help but think, each time the lights go out and the whistles start, they are in fact conducting an improptu rave because they think no one can see them!!
Oh well, must dash.
TTFN, one and all
Neil
Everything is image in India as well. People give themselves grand titles even though they carry no real importance. Even tuk-tuks are fitted with numerous aerials, giving the impression that they could (at any moment) transform into a two-stroke, 125cc version of the Batmobile at any moment. Still, to them it looks good I guess. Sometimes they do remind me of home though, like the way that the younger tuk-tuk drivers put huge sub-woofers in the back of their vehicles and neon lights underneath. A sign maybe that they are reaching out to their knuckle-dragging brethren that are often seen frequenting Southend seafront?
Quite often, at most road junctions, you will see an official controlling the traffic (well, I say controlling). Always a man, never a woman (signs of this being a very masogonistic society are everywhere). Clad in sharply-pressed beige trousers, crisp white shirt that would not look out of place in a Daz commercial, and a hard hat (why?) , he places himself in the middle of the road to ensure maximum opportunities for him to be run over. Then he proceeds to do absolutely nothing. Traffic still comes from all directions, people still swerve everywhere, and pedestrians still cross the road whenever they feel like it, half-heartedly raising their arm and outstretching their palm as if they were King Canute holding back the tide!! Bizarrely enough, it works though, and no one gets irate with this system of understood chaos. Perhaps our society is too well-ordered and people have forgotten how to think for themselves? All joking aside though, the upshot of Daz man stood in the middle of the road is generally to bring about more chaos than if he were not there………. it must be, because if you drive past one of these junctions at any time when there is no-one attempting to control the traffic and it seems to work much better!
Yet another example of the irony of the country I find myself in is the example of next doors dog, a young Golden Labrador. He is a friendly, happy soul as these type of dogs generally are but he barks almost incessantly, why? Well they chain him to the gate at the front of the house 24 hours a day. He has nothing but the length of the average dog lead in which to exercise and for any dog that is not enough, let alone one with the boundless energy of a Lab. We have asked about buying the dog but they are having none of it. When we ask why they do this to him they simply reply, “because he is naughty”. How is he expected to learn what is right or wrong if they never take the time to teach him? The one time I did see someone trying to teach him basic behavioural patterns he was rewarded with a stick being whacked hard across his nose if he did not comply first time……..no way to teach a dog is it? Yet, and this is the irony, having seen many dogs walking the streets searching for food, some with puppies, this dog is one of the “luckier” ones.
Power cuts (yes them again), are becoming more frequent it seems, and planned. They will often occur during the day, around 10am, and the supply will be off for around 4-6 hours. This is because there is simply not enough generating capacity to cover the existing requirements for the city. So what is the solution to this problem you ask? Well, if you are Indian, the solution is to build many more office blocks and houses. Yup, constructions are everywhere and not one of them is a power station! Do these people not think of the supporting infrastructure needed for these places? To be honest, I am seriously considering taking a cart and a horse to the offices of the Greater Hyderabad Municipal Council and asking them to assemble them in the correct order…..how do you think they will get on? What is quite amusing is how, when we have these power cuts at night, the guards that patrol our complex will blow their whistles in turn to signal to each other “all is well”. These guys are tremendously regimented in their approach like that, they salute you each time you go in and out and they conduct drills every night at the gate. Despite all this, I still cant help but think, each time the lights go out and the whistles start, they are in fact conducting an improptu rave because they think no one can see them!!
Oh well, must dash.
TTFN, one and all
Neil
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Friday 20th to Thursday 26th Feb 2009
I need your help readers. I have an urge that is building up inside me, growing like addiction, and I doubt I can fight it much longer. You may recall how I mentioned in previous posts that the women out here do all the work?.......... No? allow me to refresh your memory. You regularly see women walking down the road with stuff on their heads. It is quite an amazing sight in all honesty and I have nothing but the deepest admiration for them. There is usually a cloth, or sponge to soften the impact on their skull and atop that will be a tray or dish with all manner of things. It could be tools, building materials, food, clothes…anything. Frequently they are accompanied by a male carrying nothing. It is the exact reverse of my situation in the UK where my wife (yes babe, you) will load me up like a human “buckaroo”, always trying to get that one more bag on me before my hind quarters spring up and throw everything off. Well, my urge is this, as much as I respect as I have for these women, I would really love to creep up behind one and tickle her, just to see if she can retain the poise and dignity (and it’s like the Indian equivalent of the Finishing School girl with the books on her head), that she had displayed up until that point. If it wasn’t for the fact that touching an Indian woman in the street is tantamount to gang rape, I would have done it already!
Touching Indian women is a major no-no. Just a friendly tap on the arm, the occasional shoulder massage because you can see they are stressed (all things you see every day in the most UK workplaces), even a handshake is heavily frowned upon here. Any public display of affection is a taboo.
In the news recently was the case of a married Delhi couple who had the audacity to kiss in public. They were arrested, charged and the case went to court. Eventually it was quite rightly thrown out but not before serious amounts of money and time had been wasted in the process. Bizarre isn’t it? You can openly stop your car or motorcycle in broad daylight and urinate on the street, that’s ok, but woe betide you if you kiss your wife!!
Which is why I was so shocked to see an advert on the television recently for a product called “Unwanted-72”. The premise was that this woman had a serious dilemma, a life changing event that she didn’t want……basically she was pregnant. So she was introduced to Unwanted-72 which is a morning after pill. She took that and suddenly everything was fine again, and she could begin her life again. In such a conservative country such as India, where sex before marriage is actually illegal, it is surprising to see them almost encouraging casual sex to be honest.
Work-wise there is not much to report. I work all weekend, all day, and have been hard at it since. I did manage to get up the road to the Bali rooftop restaurant Saturday with a few of my colleagues which was nice.
After a hard day Sunday, and once I knew my flight was airborne, I did venture out to the market I had been meaning to go to for some time. It is about ten minutes by tuk-tuk from the villa and has things like jewelry, ornaments, pashminas and numerous other things. I managed to get a few bargains, after some serious haggling, and went away happy.
The spelling hasn’t got any better out here by the way. On the way home from work tonight (Wednesday 25th) I passed a sign advertising some new apartments for sale or rent. They boasted all the facilities, and the exterior looked very nice. I just could not help notice the part of the sign that said “avilabale now”. Now would you buy anything built by someone who spelt “available” like that?
I travel home on Friday 27th and I cannot wait. I will probably not be posting any blog entries whilst I am at home because I want to spend as much time with my family as I can…..well I am only home for a week. I have to say that, despite being surrounded by so many wonderful people, and I have made some good friends, I still feel lonely and that feeling has grown and grown with each passing day. Weird isn’t it?
Touching Indian women is a major no-no. Just a friendly tap on the arm, the occasional shoulder massage because you can see they are stressed (all things you see every day in the most UK workplaces), even a handshake is heavily frowned upon here. Any public display of affection is a taboo.
In the news recently was the case of a married Delhi couple who had the audacity to kiss in public. They were arrested, charged and the case went to court. Eventually it was quite rightly thrown out but not before serious amounts of money and time had been wasted in the process. Bizarre isn’t it? You can openly stop your car or motorcycle in broad daylight and urinate on the street, that’s ok, but woe betide you if you kiss your wife!!
Which is why I was so shocked to see an advert on the television recently for a product called “Unwanted-72”. The premise was that this woman had a serious dilemma, a life changing event that she didn’t want……basically she was pregnant. So she was introduced to Unwanted-72 which is a morning after pill. She took that and suddenly everything was fine again, and she could begin her life again. In such a conservative country such as India, where sex before marriage is actually illegal, it is surprising to see them almost encouraging casual sex to be honest.
Work-wise there is not much to report. I work all weekend, all day, and have been hard at it since. I did manage to get up the road to the Bali rooftop restaurant Saturday with a few of my colleagues which was nice.
After a hard day Sunday, and once I knew my flight was airborne, I did venture out to the market I had been meaning to go to for some time. It is about ten minutes by tuk-tuk from the villa and has things like jewelry, ornaments, pashminas and numerous other things. I managed to get a few bargains, after some serious haggling, and went away happy.
The spelling hasn’t got any better out here by the way. On the way home from work tonight (Wednesday 25th) I passed a sign advertising some new apartments for sale or rent. They boasted all the facilities, and the exterior looked very nice. I just could not help notice the part of the sign that said “avilabale now”. Now would you buy anything built by someone who spelt “available” like that?
I travel home on Friday 27th and I cannot wait. I will probably not be posting any blog entries whilst I am at home because I want to spend as much time with my family as I can…..well I am only home for a week. I have to say that, despite being surrounded by so many wonderful people, and I have made some good friends, I still feel lonely and that feeling has grown and grown with each passing day. Weird isn’t it?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
14th - 19th Feb 2009
Went on a tour of the city on Saturday. It was pretty uneventful in them main to be honest as it involved the Fort (which I have done before), and the lake, again. The reason I visisted them again was simply that we had a couple of new pilots who wanted to explore a bit, having recently arrived in India, and I has the day off so I thought, why not?
The main difference this time was that this time we went into the park that surrounds the lake and took a boat ride which was actually quite fun. It was a speedboat, costing a whopping 200rupees for all 3 of us (less than 3GBP), and he took us right round the lake, stopping briefly so we could take some more photos of the Buddha statue in the middle from closer up. The driver sat at the back and steered the craft using the outboard motor. He must have decided, pretty much upon laying eyes on us, that he thought he could wind us up a bit because he kept swinging the tiller from side to side, making the boat swing violently. The motion of suddenly swerving was little more than irritating however, and that was only because I was trying to take photos, what actually scares you is the water itself believe me!
When you enter the park, and even when you are anywhere near it, the smell of the lake is quite off-putting. Our driver told us that, in the not too distant past, this was once a fresh water lake teeming with fish and suitable to drink even. He knows this because he has done both as a child. Now, it is a dark and disturbing shade of green, with a putrid smell about it. This is not due to algae, far from in fact as I doubt even algae could thrive in that water. That was what scared us when the boat was swaying, the fear that we could fall into that if we tipped over into the water we would probably end up going through some spider-manesque molecular transformation as a result of whatever chemicals and pollution are contained therein!
We ended our stay in the park with a quick stint in the cricket batting nets they had behind the boats where they fire tennis balls at you and, depending on where you hit them, you score a certain number of runs. I won (sorry Ian, had to get that in), and off we went to find a cold beer!
On the way back we went via “Tank Bund Road”. This is a major highway between the two smaller cities that from Greater Hyderabad (Hyderabad and Secunderabad), and passes right by the lake. It is so named because of the tank that was presented to the city in 1973 to commemorate 25 years of Indian Independence. As a responsible tourist, keen to ingratiate myself to the locals, I climbed on top of this tank, thrust my arm into the air and looked as though I was leading some sort of revolution. My friends took some great photos of me doing this (see my facebook page for those who have access). What the photos do not show is the traffic chaos I caused on this major highway as drivers stopped to look at this crazy paleface standing atop one of their national monuments…..oops!!!
I have decided that my next mission is to target the Indian Tourist Board and get them to change their slogan. Why? Well, there is a whole national ethic out here that simply consists of two words (three if you are a grammatical purist), and simply goes “that’ll do”
When they build something, be it a house or office complex, you find all manner of things odd. There will be wonky windows, and improperly sealed windows that allow the monsoon rains to flood the inside, light switches that are at a 45 degree angle and bits of steel re-enforcing jutting out from the concrete exterior that they simply paint over and hope you won’t notice………and so on.
The roads (yes I know, my favourite subject), were clearly built by “that’ll do constructions”. They must have been otherwise how else would you explain the poor state they are in?
They also regularly use internal sockets, outside the building and then fail to properly seal so that sufficient moisture can get into the exposed wiring to cause a short-circuit.
So, I suggest we all write to the people that promote tourism in India and suggest they go with the following new advertising campaign………..
“Visit India …………………..Land of that’ll do”
Got some great news today! I am going home…….hooray! Albeit, only for a week but still, it will be nice to catch up with the family and visit my little girl. Strangely enough, I am even looking forward to some colder weather for a change.
.
.
.
Not sure I’ll still be saying that when I get there though?
The main difference this time was that this time we went into the park that surrounds the lake and took a boat ride which was actually quite fun. It was a speedboat, costing a whopping 200rupees for all 3 of us (less than 3GBP), and he took us right round the lake, stopping briefly so we could take some more photos of the Buddha statue in the middle from closer up. The driver sat at the back and steered the craft using the outboard motor. He must have decided, pretty much upon laying eyes on us, that he thought he could wind us up a bit because he kept swinging the tiller from side to side, making the boat swing violently. The motion of suddenly swerving was little more than irritating however, and that was only because I was trying to take photos, what actually scares you is the water itself believe me!
When you enter the park, and even when you are anywhere near it, the smell of the lake is quite off-putting. Our driver told us that, in the not too distant past, this was once a fresh water lake teeming with fish and suitable to drink even. He knows this because he has done both as a child. Now, it is a dark and disturbing shade of green, with a putrid smell about it. This is not due to algae, far from in fact as I doubt even algae could thrive in that water. That was what scared us when the boat was swaying, the fear that we could fall into that if we tipped over into the water we would probably end up going through some spider-manesque molecular transformation as a result of whatever chemicals and pollution are contained therein!
We ended our stay in the park with a quick stint in the cricket batting nets they had behind the boats where they fire tennis balls at you and, depending on where you hit them, you score a certain number of runs. I won (sorry Ian, had to get that in), and off we went to find a cold beer!
On the way back we went via “Tank Bund Road”. This is a major highway between the two smaller cities that from Greater Hyderabad (Hyderabad and Secunderabad), and passes right by the lake. It is so named because of the tank that was presented to the city in 1973 to commemorate 25 years of Indian Independence. As a responsible tourist, keen to ingratiate myself to the locals, I climbed on top of this tank, thrust my arm into the air and looked as though I was leading some sort of revolution. My friends took some great photos of me doing this (see my facebook page for those who have access). What the photos do not show is the traffic chaos I caused on this major highway as drivers stopped to look at this crazy paleface standing atop one of their national monuments…..oops!!!
I have decided that my next mission is to target the Indian Tourist Board and get them to change their slogan. Why? Well, there is a whole national ethic out here that simply consists of two words (three if you are a grammatical purist), and simply goes “that’ll do”
When they build something, be it a house or office complex, you find all manner of things odd. There will be wonky windows, and improperly sealed windows that allow the monsoon rains to flood the inside, light switches that are at a 45 degree angle and bits of steel re-enforcing jutting out from the concrete exterior that they simply paint over and hope you won’t notice………and so on.
The roads (yes I know, my favourite subject), were clearly built by “that’ll do constructions”. They must have been otherwise how else would you explain the poor state they are in?
They also regularly use internal sockets, outside the building and then fail to properly seal so that sufficient moisture can get into the exposed wiring to cause a short-circuit.
So, I suggest we all write to the people that promote tourism in India and suggest they go with the following new advertising campaign………..
“Visit India …………………..Land of that’ll do”
Got some great news today! I am going home…….hooray! Albeit, only for a week but still, it will be nice to catch up with the family and visit my little girl. Strangely enough, I am even looking forward to some colder weather for a change.
.
.
.
Not sure I’ll still be saying that when I get there though?
Friday, February 13, 2009
03rd Feb - 13 Feb 2009
I had the day off work on Tuesday so I elected to go shopping. I needed some clothes so why not eh? Having only found out at 8:00am in the morning that I was off that day, I decided to travel in with the usual transport to the office (as I was up anyway) and get them to drop me off at the shopping mall. Bad move, what I did not know was that nothing opens in India before 11am! So there I was, stood in the middle of the busiest part of town, waiting for these shops to open. I had a wander round, took a tuk-tuk ride, so the time passed quickly enough.
Whilst I was sat there a tuk-tuk pulled up in the centre of the roundabout. It is not unusual to see vehicles just randomly stop, or swerve all over the place so I thought nothing of it. However, it was clearly the wrong move as he was approached by what I later found out to be the Indian equivalent of a traffic warden. This guy was wearing a uniform, and carrying a big stick that must have been 4 foot long so I assumed he was police but apparently not. An argument ensued and without warning the warden just started kicking the passenger in the back of the tuk-tuk. He must have launched about six or seven kicks onto this guy, for no obvious reason……..guess they just don’t issue parking tickets out here and that’s how they deal with the problem. I’ll take the fine if it’s all the same to you?
I also observed how the majority of Hyderabadis get to work and I have to see, everything you hear is true. There is an etiquette for buses out here….women get on the front and men get on at the back. None of the buses have doors, some of them don’t even have windows, and I’ll bet none of them have air-conditioning. People pack themselves in so tightly that it cannot be a pleasant experience travelling on one but for about a rupee or two per journey, can you really complain? All the guide books and websites suggest that, whilst travelling on public transport is not inherently dangerous for westerners, you are a target for pick-pockets. Given how beggars gravitate towards us ‘pale-faces’ I can well believe that.
Even though one bus I saw was so packed that there was not an inch of wasted space inside, people still tried to get on it. As the bus drove away there were several people hanging off the back door, grabbing onto what they could, and with no more than half of one foot touching the door sill. In the UK, bus surfing is a dangerous craze only undertaken by people under the influence of some kind of narcotic or maybe alcohol, here it is a way of getting to work!
Having done my shopping I decided to have some lunch and was pleasantly surprised to see a McDonalds. I am not a massive fan of huge global organisations that pillage the world of its natural resources, nor am I an anarchist that seeks to bring these conglomerates down (I am English remember, all I’ll do is quietly grumble about it but ultimately do nothing). I must admit I felt cheap for succumbing to this little corner of familiarity, but comforted at the same time, that was until I went in. What is the last thing you would expect from Maccy D’s? What are they famous for? If you said to yourself, what is the first word that comes out of my mouth if someone asked me to describe them in one word, and one word alone?.......Burgers yes?. Well this is India, and not even McDonalds staff will cook beef out here. So it was fish or chicken, or rice (yes rice). As a chicken burger was the closest thing I could get to a piece of home I elected to have that. It was OK…..wasn’t the same though.
With the shopping done, I headed back to the villa. You never need to flag down a tuk-tuk in Hyderabad, they simply approach you. I thought I had got the haggling thing sorted as well. I am quite firm with everyone, I state my price and rarely allow myself to be shifted from what I have stated as being prepared to pay.
This guy was different though. He was more experienced in haggling and equally (if not more so) inflexible in what he wanted. It just goes to show that, no matter how good you think are at something, there is always someone better at what it is you do. I got the whole story……. his 3 kids, how poor he was, how many people he had to support, blah blah blah. He quoted 200rupees for what I wanted, I said 150. Eventually we met in the middle at 175. A small victory for me so I was happy, especially against such an experienced adversary!
One of the things I have been told, by more than one Indian, is that we British left the country 50 years too early. Having not been proud of our colonial past I had ignored these comments at first. However, when they were repeated so many times I started to believe them. The road system is knackered, the country disorganised and nothing changes. There is no obvious sense of leadership or direction. I am not colonialist as I have said, but am starting to see why we should have perhaps stayed. The fact we came here is wrong of course, but having done what we did, leaving the job half done was not particularly bright either.
This week I thought all my Christmases had come at once. Why you ask?, well I didn’t get a huge pay rise or have Kylie Minogue pester me for my phone number (sadly), I simply got a tin of corned beef and some Yorkshire tea bags. Not very exciting I hear you say, well when you live in a country that does not have Corned Beef, or some decent tea bags, you start to miss certain things after nearly three montsh I can tell you……and it’s surprising what you do start to miss. If anyone wants to set up a smuggling ring that can sneak in a Peter’s Sausage Roll and a Ginsters Pasty you have my number…..we’ll talk!!!
Hope all are well :-)
Whilst I was sat there a tuk-tuk pulled up in the centre of the roundabout. It is not unusual to see vehicles just randomly stop, or swerve all over the place so I thought nothing of it. However, it was clearly the wrong move as he was approached by what I later found out to be the Indian equivalent of a traffic warden. This guy was wearing a uniform, and carrying a big stick that must have been 4 foot long so I assumed he was police but apparently not. An argument ensued and without warning the warden just started kicking the passenger in the back of the tuk-tuk. He must have launched about six or seven kicks onto this guy, for no obvious reason……..guess they just don’t issue parking tickets out here and that’s how they deal with the problem. I’ll take the fine if it’s all the same to you?
I also observed how the majority of Hyderabadis get to work and I have to see, everything you hear is true. There is an etiquette for buses out here….women get on the front and men get on at the back. None of the buses have doors, some of them don’t even have windows, and I’ll bet none of them have air-conditioning. People pack themselves in so tightly that it cannot be a pleasant experience travelling on one but for about a rupee or two per journey, can you really complain? All the guide books and websites suggest that, whilst travelling on public transport is not inherently dangerous for westerners, you are a target for pick-pockets. Given how beggars gravitate towards us ‘pale-faces’ I can well believe that.
Even though one bus I saw was so packed that there was not an inch of wasted space inside, people still tried to get on it. As the bus drove away there were several people hanging off the back door, grabbing onto what they could, and with no more than half of one foot touching the door sill. In the UK, bus surfing is a dangerous craze only undertaken by people under the influence of some kind of narcotic or maybe alcohol, here it is a way of getting to work!
Having done my shopping I decided to have some lunch and was pleasantly surprised to see a McDonalds. I am not a massive fan of huge global organisations that pillage the world of its natural resources, nor am I an anarchist that seeks to bring these conglomerates down (I am English remember, all I’ll do is quietly grumble about it but ultimately do nothing). I must admit I felt cheap for succumbing to this little corner of familiarity, but comforted at the same time, that was until I went in. What is the last thing you would expect from Maccy D’s? What are they famous for? If you said to yourself, what is the first word that comes out of my mouth if someone asked me to describe them in one word, and one word alone?.......Burgers yes?. Well this is India, and not even McDonalds staff will cook beef out here. So it was fish or chicken, or rice (yes rice). As a chicken burger was the closest thing I could get to a piece of home I elected to have that. It was OK…..wasn’t the same though.
With the shopping done, I headed back to the villa. You never need to flag down a tuk-tuk in Hyderabad, they simply approach you. I thought I had got the haggling thing sorted as well. I am quite firm with everyone, I state my price and rarely allow myself to be shifted from what I have stated as being prepared to pay.
This guy was different though. He was more experienced in haggling and equally (if not more so) inflexible in what he wanted. It just goes to show that, no matter how good you think are at something, there is always someone better at what it is you do. I got the whole story……. his 3 kids, how poor he was, how many people he had to support, blah blah blah. He quoted 200rupees for what I wanted, I said 150. Eventually we met in the middle at 175. A small victory for me so I was happy, especially against such an experienced adversary!
One of the things I have been told, by more than one Indian, is that we British left the country 50 years too early. Having not been proud of our colonial past I had ignored these comments at first. However, when they were repeated so many times I started to believe them. The road system is knackered, the country disorganised and nothing changes. There is no obvious sense of leadership or direction. I am not colonialist as I have said, but am starting to see why we should have perhaps stayed. The fact we came here is wrong of course, but having done what we did, leaving the job half done was not particularly bright either.
This week I thought all my Christmases had come at once. Why you ask?, well I didn’t get a huge pay rise or have Kylie Minogue pester me for my phone number (sadly), I simply got a tin of corned beef and some Yorkshire tea bags. Not very exciting I hear you say, well when you live in a country that does not have Corned Beef, or some decent tea bags, you start to miss certain things after nearly three montsh I can tell you……and it’s surprising what you do start to miss. If anyone wants to set up a smuggling ring that can sneak in a Peter’s Sausage Roll and a Ginsters Pasty you have my number…..we’ll talk!!!
Hope all are well :-)
Monday, February 2, 2009
28th Jan 2009 - 02nd Feb 2009
You got to love this country….in a way at least. India has it’s own take on Western culture, and it doesn’t make a particularly good fist of it either. It is almost like they have taken the main ingredients of what has to be the two biggest global influences (namely Britain and America), put them in to a pot, and come up with their own version, it’s almost like they have curried western culture.
Let me explain, spelling out here is quite comical. Some shops will claim to be a “centre” for whatever it is they are selling (be it sporting goods, luggage or clothes etc”, others will claim to be a “center” for their particular wares……and others, not wanting to sound quite so elaborate, describe themselves as a “shopee”……. and that is exactly? Did the signwriter got a bit excited when he was making that? Was he on a rollercoaster ride that went for the big dip just as he finished the “shop” part of the sign?.........or maybe it’s just plain illiteracy? (which is my money). Most of the people out here eke out a simple existence, and probably never had time or money for a proper education. They get by, they exist, and they have more fortitude and are probably happier with their lot than most of us in the more affluent West. You have to admire really don’t you?
Can’t remember if I have blogged this before or not? Apologies if I have, but I still have not received, nor discovered, a satisfactory reason as to why this even exists so here I go again……………
Let me explain, on the way home from the office to the villa every day we pass this clinic (not THAT sort of clinic so drag your minds out of the gutter please……and stop smirking). Outside said clinic is a 30 foot, illuminated archway advertising their 24 hour walk-in CT scan facility. You can, if you want to, walk in (any time, day or night) and pay your money and to get yourself x-rayed.
Have you ever had this happen to you? You are walking home after a night out, you know you have had a good night because you sway, nay stagger, down the road……the obligatory kebab has been consumed….now what? Yes, you feel the overwhelming urge for a CT scan but where can you get one at 3am. Worry no longer my brethren as you can get one in Hyderabad!!! Another solution to mankind’s simplest dilemmas brought to you by the people of India.
Lastly, I have a question for you. This is not India related I hasten to add, but it is something I have noticed whilst I have been in here so I guess it qualifies for the blog……..just!
Those of you who use I-Tunes will know that it automatically groups your music for you. It will decide, unilaterally, if what you have uploaded is pop music, rock, country and so on. As the user you have absolutely no input on this.
This is quite a handy feature however, as I am sure you will agree. It means you can tell your I-Pod to play a certain type of music, say for parties or when you have guests, and keep the embarrassing stuff back for yourself to listen to when no one is around via the private inner sanctum provided by your headphones.
One of the genres my I-pod grouped my music into was it termed “Easy Listening”. Alright, I’ll admit I own more than one Michael Buble album (I would like to apologise to my family as I should really have come out to them first), and it was this that had been deemed as “Easy Listening”.
I can picture it now, because it is Easy Listening I will clearly have no trouble hearing it? I will not have to turn the volume up if I can’t hear it because, as it is easy to listen to, it will simply not allow me to move a muscle to adjust the volume….it will do it for me, right?
Or does it mean that, the very microsecond that the first sound wave begins to resonate around my inner ear, I will be struck by an involuntary stress relinquishing paralysis and all my muscles will simply relax?
The more likely explanation is that it is just simply a term made up by the kind of people who frequent Jazz Clubs to make music they liked sound “groovy”. I mean, is there such a thing as “Hard Listening” music? Are there times in which you have to reach inside your cochlea, rip out the ear drum and place it up against the speaker to listen to a Def Leppard LP?
These people are talking rubbish!......................... Go and complain to your MP!
Rant over.
Let me explain, spelling out here is quite comical. Some shops will claim to be a “centre” for whatever it is they are selling (be it sporting goods, luggage or clothes etc”, others will claim to be a “center” for their particular wares……and others, not wanting to sound quite so elaborate, describe themselves as a “shopee”……. and that is exactly? Did the signwriter got a bit excited when he was making that? Was he on a rollercoaster ride that went for the big dip just as he finished the “shop” part of the sign?.........or maybe it’s just plain illiteracy? (which is my money). Most of the people out here eke out a simple existence, and probably never had time or money for a proper education. They get by, they exist, and they have more fortitude and are probably happier with their lot than most of us in the more affluent West. You have to admire really don’t you?
Can’t remember if I have blogged this before or not? Apologies if I have, but I still have not received, nor discovered, a satisfactory reason as to why this even exists so here I go again……………
Let me explain, on the way home from the office to the villa every day we pass this clinic (not THAT sort of clinic so drag your minds out of the gutter please……and stop smirking). Outside said clinic is a 30 foot, illuminated archway advertising their 24 hour walk-in CT scan facility. You can, if you want to, walk in (any time, day or night) and pay your money and to get yourself x-rayed.
Have you ever had this happen to you? You are walking home after a night out, you know you have had a good night because you sway, nay stagger, down the road……the obligatory kebab has been consumed….now what? Yes, you feel the overwhelming urge for a CT scan but where can you get one at 3am. Worry no longer my brethren as you can get one in Hyderabad!!! Another solution to mankind’s simplest dilemmas brought to you by the people of India.
Lastly, I have a question for you. This is not India related I hasten to add, but it is something I have noticed whilst I have been in here so I guess it qualifies for the blog……..just!
Those of you who use I-Tunes will know that it automatically groups your music for you. It will decide, unilaterally, if what you have uploaded is pop music, rock, country and so on. As the user you have absolutely no input on this.
This is quite a handy feature however, as I am sure you will agree. It means you can tell your I-Pod to play a certain type of music, say for parties or when you have guests, and keep the embarrassing stuff back for yourself to listen to when no one is around via the private inner sanctum provided by your headphones.
One of the genres my I-pod grouped my music into was it termed “Easy Listening”. Alright, I’ll admit I own more than one Michael Buble album (I would like to apologise to my family as I should really have come out to them first), and it was this that had been deemed as “Easy Listening”.
I can picture it now, because it is Easy Listening I will clearly have no trouble hearing it? I will not have to turn the volume up if I can’t hear it because, as it is easy to listen to, it will simply not allow me to move a muscle to adjust the volume….it will do it for me, right?
Or does it mean that, the very microsecond that the first sound wave begins to resonate around my inner ear, I will be struck by an involuntary stress relinquishing paralysis and all my muscles will simply relax?
The more likely explanation is that it is just simply a term made up by the kind of people who frequent Jazz Clubs to make music they liked sound “groovy”. I mean, is there such a thing as “Hard Listening” music? Are there times in which you have to reach inside your cochlea, rip out the ear drum and place it up against the speaker to listen to a Def Leppard LP?
These people are talking rubbish!......................... Go and complain to your MP!
Rant over.
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