Life in Bangalore – Page 2 – Wellserton Wanderings

Grover ZampaVineyards

Grover Zampa Vineyards is about 40 minutes north of us toward the Nandi Hills. The drive there is lovely, as the city falls away and you gradually find yourself surrounded by the farms and greenery that our neighborhood used to be. And of course being at a winery gives us one less thing to miss from Oregon.

We’ve gone twice in the last couple months and look forward to going again soon. The first time was when we had a happy visit from our brother-in-law Michael. The three of us started the day with breakfast at the Mavalli Tiffin Room (yum!) and a stroll through Lalbagh Botanical Garden before heading out for a lovely afternoon. We arrived a little late for lunch, but were still so full from breakfast that we didn’t mind. Our 15-member tour group was first told about the history of the winery. Launched in 1988, it was the first winery in India – this is an incredibly new industry here – and the current winemaker is the granddaughter of the founder. We then walked through the entire process of winemaking, from the crush pad to fermentation tanks to bottling and labeling. Our guide, Vipin, is so knowledgeable. We’ve been on many similar tours, but still learned some new things. The tour ended in the cellar where Vipin first told us about the 27 wines they make from the 6 different grapes that they grow. As a new industry, the stores that sell wine don’t know much about it and don’t keep it in optimal conditions (e.g. Not Just Wine and Cheese near us keeps their wine on the upper floor with no air conditioning and many of the bottles standing upright). We were pleased to taste properly stored wine. It’s really good! Sadly, on that visit in October, we were told that a couple of their high end wines wouldn’t be released until November so we’ve have to return. Darn!

When we returned, we went with a big group of Tom’s colleagues. Ten of us headed out for the 10:30 am tour and tasting, followed by lunch. On this visit, the winery was very active and the machinery noise frequently drowned out Vipin’s explanations of things. Added to this, our tour group had 25 people, so it was difficult to see and hear everything. No matter! The tasting was still very enjoyable. And the lunch to follow (vegetable biryani with raita and gulab juman for dessert) was tasty. Unfortunately, the wines we were interested in have been delayed so we’ll have to go again next month. Looks like we’re going to be Grover regulars 🙂

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Before We Forget

The longer we live here in Bengaluru, the more normal it becomes. Things that used to make us stop and stare no longer get a moment’s consideration. Things that baffled us are simply the way things are. So now, while we still remember what it was like to see these things for the first time, we want to capture some of them here in no particular order.

Garbage is everywhere: The ever present garbage is probably the single most shocking thing here. We grew up in an age of litter prevention in the United States, where “Give a hoot, don’t pollute” signs were everywhere and the EPA was newly formed to make the world better. It is shocking here to see every sidewalk lined with wrappers and debris; sometimes big, broken bags of garbage will be sitting there by the sidewalk. Anywhere that there is a break in the sidewalk (and there are many), garbage will be stuffed into the opening below. Any empty lot is heaped with garbage. Nearly every body of water has garbage floating in it, causing a stench that now makes us instinctively hold our breath any time we approach water.

Animals are everywhere: This big, bustling city filled with cars and motorbikes and pedestrians, with IT facilities and shiny hotels, is also filled with what we think of as barnyard animals. Cows are everywhere; they stroll on sidewalks, snack on the weeds of highway medians, and sometimes just casually lie down in the road completely undisturbed by the cars around them. Can you imagine a cow walking down Broadway in Portland or New York? Can you imagine the uproar after it pooped on the sidewalk with no one scurrying behind to clean it up? And it’s not just cows. There are goats, chickens, pigs, and dogs all over the place. Goats, chickens, and pigs generally seem to have nearby owners, but the dogs are very clearly on their own. And there are monkeys, cleverly scavenging not just outdoors, but also inside the homes of people who leave windows or doors unlocked (although their adorable, little old man faces make us forgive them their transgressions).

Traffic is crazy: There are probably many rules for driving in Bengaluru, but the only obvious one has to do with never allowing an empty space to go unfilled. The lane lines on the road are mere decoration, ignored as vehicles swirl like water around any obstacle that appears (cows, bicycles, pedestrians, cars driving the wrong way down the road) despite signs that declare “Observe Lane Discipline”. There is no road rage, or even apparent tension on the faces of the drivers, as they maneuver their vehicles toward their destinations. When we were new here, we held hands and frequently flinched in the back seat of the taxi. Now we calmly chat or look at our phones, as relaxed as our drivers.

Everything goes on a motorbike: Family of five? Load up and head out. Long PVC pipes for a plumbing project? Your passenger can hold on. Several bags of groceries? A couple can go at your feet, your passengers can hold on to one or two each, and strap the rest on however you can. Many people don’t wear helmets, and many who do wear them unstrapped or little plastic cricket helmets, and in the case of the families, the father driving often is helmeted, the mom occasionally, and the kids never.

People carry things on their heads: Everything from bags of groceries to big bundles of sticks to cinder blocks to furniture are carried on people’s heads. Sometimes they use a single hand to steady the load and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they create a pad on their head under the load and sometimes they don’t. We saw a man in the train station, balancing multiple suitcases on his head.

Electrical lines loop through the trees: There are some electrical poles, but more often electrical lines are woven through the branches of trees, with big coils of lines dangling at random intervals, often dangling most of the way to the ground.

Electricity outages are common: Perhaps there’s a relationship with the former, but electricity outages happen multiple times a day. There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it – sometimes it cuts out while we’re using the electric kettle to heat water for morning coffee, sometimes it cuts out while trying to heat leftovers in the microwave for lunch, and sometimes it leaves us sitting in the dark in the evening. Luckily, our building has an effective back-up generator that kicks in quickly, usually in 10-60 seconds. It doesn’t, however, power everything. Hardwired things like lights, fans, and elevators (whew!) come back on board quickly, while anything plugged in like refrigerators, ovens, and air conditioners wait until power is fully restored.

Electric outlets have to be tricked: Most outlets have 5 holes, while many plugs have only 2 prongs. The top center hole where the missing ground prong would go has to have something in it before the holes below will open. So we have to stick something in the outlet in order to plug anything in, usually a plastic pencil. At least the outlets also have switches so we can turn off the power to the outlets before sticking anything inside.

TVs, not toilets: In every sector of the city, even the most impoverished, you can see Dish TV in action. Those same homes that have televisions connected to satellites via looping wires may not have indoor plumbing, or actual toilets of any kind. It is normal to see men urinating by the sides of the road, on the sides of buildings. People of all genders and ages just relieve themselves in open fields. Work is being done on this issue, for reasons of hygiene and the safety of women, but there is much work yet to be done.

Women dress like beautiful butterflies: At least 80% of the women in Bengaluru wear some form of traditional dress in beautiful, bright colors. Dupatta (big long scarves) are draped over the fronts of women’s bodies, trailing behind them to their calves. Women who clean our building dress far fancier for work than I do for a special party. Being dressed doesn’t just include clothing – it also means gold earrings, necklaces, bangles halfway up the forearm, and jingling anklets. In contrast, about 80% of the men wear western dress, and look painfully drab in comparison.

Men are casually affectionate: Male friends here commonly walk with entwined fingers or linked elbows or arms flung around each other’s shoulders. Fathers walk holding hands with their adolescent or teen-age sons. Groups of men will sit close together or benches, practically cuddling as they happily chat. It’s really nice to see the ease of physical contact.

There are no clothes dryers here: Clothes are washed in machines on the utility balcony and then hung on the line to dry. It means we do laundry many times each week and have adjusted to crunchy towels and wrinkled everything. The upside? Gorgeous, brightly colored sarees billow from the balconies in the morning.

Our stove is an independent unit: The stove sits on top of the counter with its two burners connected to a gas tank under the counter. When turning on the stove, we have to turn on the gas and then use a hand igniter to light the burner. We’re told the gas tank should last us 6 months.

Melissa’s Musings: Malleswaram

Today I had the pleasure of another Five Oceans/Bluefoot tour (the first was to a Bengaluru slum). Five Oceans is a social club that generously offered two-month memberships to teachers and parents at Tom’s school. I had assumed that I would get as much as possible out of the trial membership and then let it go, but their offerings are so varied and so consistently good that I will definitely continue. They also have a strong relationship with Bluefoot Tours which introduces cultural activities that I really value. India is a fascinating place, but as a foreigner, it’s so easy to look at the ornate, bustling, baffling surface and miss all of the context that provides the richness. With Kaveri as guide, our small tour explored an old neighborhood of Bengaluru, and got to hear the stories that explained its origins and continued life.

Malleswaram clearly has ancient origins dating back to the earliest days of this city (we’ll get to that), but also a more recent creation story. In the late 19th century, Bengaluru was hit by the plague, driving many residents to look for new homes further from the city center. At that time, Malleswaram (also spelled Malleshwaram) became the first planned suburb of Bangalore with streets actually arranged on a grid. It has lovely tree-lined streets with broad, functional sidewalks. It has a residential feel with thriving business all around.

In the 1930’s, Shri Sagar (also called Central Tiffin Room or CTR) opened its doors in the heart of Malleswaram. It’s just a little younger than the Mavalli Tiffin Room, and just as delicious. This is where we started our day with strong, milky South Indian filter coffee, masala dosas filled with tasty potatoes, kharabath which is almost like a spicy risotto made out of semolina (ok, that’s kind of a stretch, but trust me when I say it’s wonderful), idli which are like flat steamed dumplings made of rice and dal, and vada which is a savory lentil donut. Yum.

From there we walked to the first of three temples on today’s tour. The Sri Venugopala Krishnaswamy Temple is devoted to Krishna, with the stories of his life in detailed, painted carvings on the walls facing the sidewalk. Kaveri walked us along the wall, telling us the stories of this avatar of Vishnu the Sustainer, who has come to earth nine times in nine different guises to restore balance to the world. We left our shoes outside, carefully stepped over (not on) the threshold, and entered the courtyard where a group of men were working on a new carved structure. The impressive buildings of this temple and some of its idols may only be 100-150 years old, but the priest at the temple told us that the main Krishna idol in the shrine is itself 1000 years old. The inner temple had a wonderful serenity, with one man seated cross-legged practicing the balancing pranayam while another man sat wrapped in a purple stole chanting vedic scriptures along to the accompanying music playing on his iphone. This combination of old and new felt just right in this setting.

Krishna with his wife (and a couple others women)

A rare image of the Creator

Our next temple was the 17th century Kaadu Malleshwara Temple to Shiva from which this neighborhood gets its name. Kaadu means forest in tribute to the lovely trees growing so densely in the area while Mallikarjuna is one of the names of Shiva. On the way in to this temple, we paused to greet the priest standing in front of his cow shed. This temple is entered on the backside, overlooking a gorgeous forested park area. Just inside is a large Nandi, or bull. This bull is Shiva’s conveyance, and also the closest creature to him. As such, people whisper into the ear of the bull all the things that they want Shiva to know, whether a painful confession or a wish for something better.

Leaving the temple, we descended the stairs and saw to the right a large statue of a hooded snake sheltering a god and a great collection of smaller snake idols behind it. Kaveri explained that when a new construction project is undertaken (like the creation of a new neighborhood), the snakes that live underground are disturbed. To placate the snakes and prevent harm to the new residents, a snake temple is erected. When people become ill or otherwise distressed, they may suspect that the cause is a curse from a snake that must now be given offerings before the curse can be lifted. It was a beautiful, peaceful setting, even with all the snakes.

Beyond the forested area was yet another temple, this one with an amazing story. The Shri Nandeeshwara Teertha Temple was, at some point, lost to time. It was erected in a topographical depression and, with disuse, had been completely covered by mud and disappeared. That is, until a group of boys saw something shiny in the mud and tried to dig it up, shocked to find a complete bull statue. They told their parents, and the community lobbied to unearth the temple and prevent the construction of a mall on this site. While there are claims that this temple is 7000 years old, it is likely that it’s closer to 700 years old. It features a nandi spitting water which falls onto the lingam of Shiva, ensuring the continued procreation of the world. In front of them is a pool fed by an underground spring with fish and turtles happily swimming about.

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Aside from the amazing temples of this neighborhood, we also walked by Malleshwara’s vendors. They used to have a very popular and thriving market, but the government wanted to build a new mall (currently under construction). In the middle of the night when no one was there, they bulldozed the market structures to make way, entirely against the will of the community. People are remarkably resilient, though, and they continue to sell their wares along the sidewalks where the market used to stand.

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We completed our tour with a visit to Dwaraka Plus, an organization that supports rural communities that create beautiful paintings on cotton or silk, using natural pigments that they create themselves from vegetable sources. The fabric becomes wall hangings, sarees, purses, boxes, and all manner of other things. Before the founder of this organization discovered these artisans, their community was dying – they were far from major roads or water sources and were struggling to feed themselves – but she helped them create a market for their goods and reinvigorated their expression of this art form.

I’ll definitely be back, to Dwaraka Plus and to Malleshwara.

Melissa’s Musings: Struggle and Resilience in a Bengaluru Slum

Even though we don’t live in a cloistered expat community, there is still the potential to live in a bubble, unaware of many of the challenges around us. That is not the way I want to live here. Sure, I will occasionally seek the bubble, but I also want to truly understand and be a part of life in India. With that in mind, I went on a social awareness tour conducted by Five Oceans, a local club that gave memberships to teachers at Tom’s school.

I was part of a group of five women who met our guide, Kaveri, a cultural anthropologist who has long interacted with and supported the community that she took us to visit. This particular slum was initially formed when the government gave a 25-year land grant to villagers lured to Bengaluru to work on new road development in this ever-growing city. Twenty-nine years later, it’s still there, home to 25,000 people who live in small homes of their own creation without plumbing, running water, or garbage collection. Children who grew up there now raise their children there, and yet there is joy among the garbage.

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The focus of our tour was a group called Anu Life, created 8 years ago to give women in the Janakiram Slum the tools to support their families. It has done so much more than that for the 11 women who work there. Officially, it offers healthcare and education for the women and their children, helping them to learn the English that they need to succeed here. Unofficially, it offers pride and confidence, both unknown to these women before their involvement.

wp-image-1866520714 — Kamala in front of her home

Kamala came to Bengaluru as a young child and worked with her parents on road building with no protection from chemical exposure or general safety. She grew up, got married, and had four children. When the fourth was born, she and the infant were both very ill with tuberculosis. Her husband sent her to his parents’ village, far away, where she was horribly mistreated. Eventually she was strong enough to leave with the baby and return to home in the slum. When she got there, she learned that her husband had run off with another woman and

wp-image-1350338195 — Kamala tells us about her work with Anu Life

abandoned their children alone to scavenge in the streets. Kamala brought them all together again and got a job working nights for 100 rupees per night (about $1.40). It was a constant struggle. And then Anu Life recruited her as one of its first members. She is paid 200 rupees for every bag that she weaves (each taking about three hours to create), she receives healthcare for herself and her children, and she’s proud of what she does. She said that when she began, she was always scared and wouldn’t talk to anybody, but now she’s confident enough to talk to anyone. And she’s proud of her three older children in boarding school.

wp-image-1282926732 — Sophia in front of her bed

Sophia proudly invited us into her home to see her two prized possessions: a large blue plastic rain barrel and a double bed on a metal frame. Water is a major factor in these women’s lives – it is an effort to get clean water to drink, do dishes, wash clothes, wash themselves; they are also at the mercy of any flooding. Sophia is able fill her rain barrel, occasionally with help from Lalitha, and doesn’t sleep on the floor where it’s often damp. Like Kamala, she has three older children at boarding school and one at home with her. She told me that she visits a different child each month so only sees the older kids every three months. She also told me that she is not sad when she says good-bye “because they must have a beautiful life and they can’t have that here.”

Lalitha’s home is up a flight of stairs. It’s tiny (about 5 feet by 6 feet with a 3 foot square L

wp-image-792831116 — Lalitha’s home as seen from the doorway

off one side which serves as her kitchen). As small as it is, she has two distinct advantages: the height means that she is not subject to flooding, and she has actual running water for two days each week which she shares with friends in need. She also has a distinct disadvantage. She shares her small home with her husband and three children. When she was asked if her husband works, she said, “No, he drinks.” We were then told that he beats her often and she’s just getting over a black eye. She also told us, though, that through Anu Life she has learned to stand up to him so it’s not as bad as it was. The other women spoke of her strength and generosity.

Anu Life means a great deal to the women who serve as its collective workforce and owners. They were taught the craft of making baskets and bags out of tetra packs (juice boxes) and of embroidering on old cement bags. Their supplies are otherwise garbage, but the things they make with them are lovely. They do, however, constantly struggle to find buyers for their work and nearly had to end their operation last month when they had no sales. Happily, a woman placed a large order and kept them going, and everyone who tours their operation buys something (I bought two bags that I love). If you’d like an Anu Life bag, let me know and I’ll make it happen!

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Chapter 10: Onam

Onam is an annual festival, generally occurring in September, that is celebrated across Kerala (to the southwest of us) and everywhere the Malayali people of Kerala live. Happily, that includes right here in Bengaluru, so we got to experience this multi-day festival in a few different ways. It’s notable that we were each told the Onam story a few times by different people with some significant variations so we’re not totally sure of the official version, but we’ll offer a little composite story here to get you in the spirit of the holiday.

Around 8000 BC, there was a wonderful king of Kerala named Mahabali (sometimes referred to as a demon king). Under his rule, everyone was happy, all their needs were met, and life was universally good. Because of this general contentment, people no longer felt a need for the gods (or alternatively, he conquered the gods to establish his rule). The gods were not happy with this and appealed to Vishnu to do something about it. Vishnu took the form of a small dwarf and went before the king during a festival when Mahabali had promised to give people whatever they requested. When Vishnu came forward, the king offered him riches and boons, but he said all he wanted was three paces of land. Mahabali, of course, agreed to such a small request. Vishnu then grew to immense size. With one pace, he claimed the earth and with a second pace, he claimed the heavens; he then turned to Mahabali and asked where he could take his third pace. Mahabali bowed his head for Vishnu to step upon. Because of his goodness and piety, Vishnu granted him one wish. He asked that he be allowed to return and walk among his people again once a year. During the ten days of Onam, it is believed that he is in disguise among us, so it is essential that everyone be kind to strangers just in case they are actually in the presence of Mahabali.

September 4 was the midpoint of Onam and a particularly auspicious day for celebration, so we each had the opportunity to celebrate separately last Monday. On Sunday, there was a celebration in our apartment complex that we participated in with some of our new friends. For all Onam celebrations, we were to be dressed in white or off-white so we got to do a little shopping in advance.

Melissa’s Monday: I was invited to an Onam lunch at the Paul Bangalore Hotel, a

small 5-star hotel built around a central covered courtyard where they have a restaurant with a lovely outdoor feel. It was fully decorated for Onam with flowers, hanging palm leaf decorations, and tables all preset with big banana leaves. I attended with a group of 5 women from the Overseas Women’s Club of Bangalore and the husband of the woman who organized us. As always, it was an interesting group of women. One from Malaysia who lived for years in the UAE before permanently relocated to Bangalore, one from South Africa with family ties in Tamil Nadu, one originally from Kerala who has lived in Minnesota for the last 30 years, and one who relocated from Texas just two weeks earlier. The lunch was an incredible experience with a man dressed as Mahabali wandering around the tables, constant live singing and drumming, women dancing, and a whole team of young men walking between the tables with metal buckets of food to serve. There was an unlimited supply of everything, but I couldn’t make it past my first round.

Melissa’s Monday: I was invited to an Onam lunch at the Paul Bangalore Hotel, a

: Dressed up for Onam

small 5-star hotel built around a central covered courtyard where they have a restaurant with a lovely outdoor feel. It was fully decorated for Onam with flowers, hanging palm leaf decorations, and tables all preset with big banana leaves. I attended with a group of 5 women from the Overseas Women’s Club of Bangalore and the husband of the woman who organized us. As always, it was an interesting group of women. One from Malaysia who lived for years in the UAE before permanently relocating to Bangalore, one from South Africa with family ties in Tamil Nadu, one originally from Kerala who has lived in Minnesota for the last 30 years, and one who relocated from Texas just two weeks earlier. The lunch was an incredible experience with a man dressed as Mahabali wandering around the tables, constant live singing and drumming, women dancing, and a whole team of young men walking between the tables with metal buckets of food to serve. There was an unlimited supply of everything, but I couldn’t make it past my first round.

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Tom’s Monday: Mine was far less lavish. We have a number of Keralans at CIS, so most of the staff dress up in the white and off white of Onam. It also means that the men wear a mundu, a traditional wrap with the gold trim of Onam. It was the only school day so far I have ridden the bus, so I got there super early to make sure I didn’t miss it. For a good long time, I was the only person, a big white person at that, dressed in such finery on our busy street. Those who know me will not be surprised to find out I was super self-conscious. Some of the Kerlan staff members brought some Kerala snacks — delicious fried banana chips and payasam (Kerala’s word for kheer). That was it for me.

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Sunday at the clubhouse: Because we still can’t quite get the hang of India time, we left our apartment at 9:05, fearing we might be late for the 9am event. In reality, it started closer to 10:30.

: Colleen’s yoga teacher wanted a selfie

No worries – we had a lovely time in the meantime, admiring the beautiful flower mandala, chatting with people, and wandering around the complex. Everyone was beautifully attired with most of the women in white and gold saris with lots of gold jewelry. Even children were decked out for the day and many had important parts to play. The event

: Look! It’s Mahabali!

started with the arrival of Mahabali and a young boy whose role we never quite determined. They were greeted with much joy and enthusiastic drumming. Then began the slow procession through the complex led by the drummers who were immediately followed by 16 little girls carrying plates filled with flower petals and candles (no one caught on fire, thanks to the woman watching them like a hawk from the sidelines), followed by Mahabali and all of the members of the community.

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At times it had the feeling of a community block party, particularly when we got to ritual dances and songs which felt a little like a spirited community talent show.

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After that, we all began lining up for lunch. Happily, we were advised to hurry for the first seating or we might have waited quite a while and we were hungry. The meal was served in the traditional manner on banana leaves without silverware and everyone was very pleased to see us enjoying it.

We will look forward to our next Onam!

Chapter 9: Taking it Slow

After the big bonanza of activity last weekend, we decided that this weekend it would be nice to slow. it. down. And so we did.

On Friday, we had a lovely lazy morning, enjoying our newly delivered furniture. It’s so nice to take some steps toward making this feel like an actual home.

When we’d had enough of the apartment, we headed for Angsana Spa and Resort.

We were told that Angsana is only about 10 minutes north of us and has nice grounds and good restaurants that welcome lounging. That all sounded pretty great to us, so we

: Lovely view for the afternoon. Note the bird in the upper left!

packed up some books and called an Ola. Ten minutes turned into a very long half hour when we came across construction that shut down half of the road. Kind of a bummer, but we were undeterred. Angsana itself looks like it’s seen better days – it could definitely use some paint and some pruning. The pool, though, is beautiful. If we’d been there to swim, we would have been delighted.

The first restaurant we checked out was lovely but closed. The second offered a tired looking buffet. The third was a charm – a deck with comfy wicker chairs and tables that we had all to ourselves. With a bottle of wine and a snack of cheese chili toast, we were happy to spend a couple hours watching the active birdlife in between reading.

The relaxation was a bit undone when we got home to a stuffy apartment without electricity. Power outages here are not uncommon – they happen multiple times a day, sometimes multiple times an hour – but usually last for just a minute or three before the generator kicks in and makes the essential ceiling fans start to rotate again. We could tell that there’d been no electricity for a while because the back-up battery on our UPS (uninterrupted power supply) which protects the wifi was fully drained. We asked a friend if her power was out and she responded, “Did you pay your electric bill?” Oops. It seems the receipt-looking thing in the mailbox did not belong to the previous tenant, but was actually our responsibility, and here in India, there are no warnings or second chances. Luckily, Tom was able to go downstairs to the maintenance office and learn how to pay online, a half hour after which our power would be restored. An hour later, he went to check on progress, and the nice guy in the office looked at the online receipts for payment and flipped the magical switch. Whew! That’s a mistake we’ll try not to repeat. New mistakes every day, right?

On Saturday morning, we continued our pokey pace, but headed out late morning to go to Pottery Town. It’s not actually a town, but a section of Bangalore where potters have lived for generations with each generation learning the craft from the previous. It’s small – just the streets around a single intersection – but each home has pottery arrayed in front or just inside for people to view and buy. Many of them have elaborate Ganesha statues arranged and apparently this neighborhood supplies vast numbers of the figures for the annual Ganesha Chaturthi celebrations. Our mission, though, was to find simple pots for for an herb garden on our kitchen deck and a vase to hold some peacock feathers in the living room, which we happily did.

We had a three day weekend because it was Eid al-Adha, a Muslim holiday which focuses on family and sharing one’s bounty. Part of the holiday comes straight from Abraham. The story goes that God was testing Abraham and ordered him to offer up his son as a sacrifice. When it was clear Abraham was going to obey, God told him to stop and sacrifice a ram instead. Today, Muslims on Eid al-Adha do the same — they kill a sheep (around here it seems to be goats), and the family eats some of the meat and gives away the rest to neighbors and the needy. How this affects us is that on our travels, we kept coming across large herds of goats waiting to be, let’s say, sanctified. Some friends who made the same trip a couple of hours later had very different and disturbing experience.

From there, we got back in Anand’s car (Anand was our charming driver for the day, supplied by Madesh) and headed to the Jayamahal Palace Heritage Hotel. The Jayamahal Palace was once the home of Mysore royalty but is now an historic but middle-of-the-road hotel. We were there for a late lunch at the lovely garden restaurant, but the downpour kept us comfortably situated in the big wicker chairs on the covered deck. We always feel like we’re doing something right when we aren’t surrounded by white tourists, so this was certainly successful in that regard.

On Sunday, we explored the edges of our comfort zone. For brunch we went to the Mavalli Tiffin Room (read a complete review here) and could not have been more delighted by our choice. The experience was enhanced by the community tables which meant that we were joined by Nagesh, whose family was seated at the next table. He made sure that we ordered all of the best things and ate them properly.

Entirely satisfied by our phenomenal (and very affordable) meal, we started the walk to the KR Market. We were emboldened by our wonderful experience the previous weekend and certain that we would enjoy our weekly shopping experience. The reality was a little different. We approached from a different direction this time and ended up walking down a long, muddy road lined with loading docks and frequented by lots of honking trucks. It wasn’t super pleasant, but we weren’t quite sure how to get out of the maze of streets and onto a better path. Eventually, we got where we wanted to be with much relief. Just outside the archway of the market, we successfully bought pasta without the use of language beyond a number, eventually figuring out that we had to first give him the money and then he would weigh and package the pasta. We then moved onto the fruits and nuts lady, who was very disappointed that we were only purchasing cashews. We were disappointed that the cashews weren’t much cheaper than the packaged ones in the store. We were even more disappointed that we allowed ourselves to be bullied into eating yucky raisins that we didn’t want to sample.

Passing through the archway, we were surrounded by a vibrant cacophony of vegetable sellers calling out their wares. We wanted to walk through and see everything before deciding what we’d buy to put into that night’s pasta sauce. We also wanted to wander through the floors of the market building in search of peacock feathers for our pretty new vase. The market wandering got confusing – as we got a bit lost, it became increasingly difficult to tell whether we’d been somewhere before, and increasingly more evident that there were no peacock feathers for sale. We knew we’d seen some the previous week so had a hard time giving up the search, but we finally admitted defeat when it really just wasn’t fun to look anymore. The combination of smells and chaos were simply overwhelming. Back outside in search of vegetables, we acquired cauliflower, carrots, onions, garlic, and tomatoes, but no peppers or herbs other than mint, cilantro, and curry leaves – time to start an herb garden! We also bought a big pasta pot which should come in very handy.

The truly challenging part of the escapade was the walk home. Surrounding the market, there were so many people, so many cars, so many motorbikes, so many trucks. There were also so many puddles, mudpits, and other fecal-related hazards. We needed to find a place from which to call an Ola home so had to find a quieter area, but we just couldn’t seem to get out of this crazy overwhelming maze. We wandered down one street with an unbearably foul odor, Tom stepped in a horrifying black puddle up to his ankle, and our patience was wearing thin. There was a bright spot, though, when Tom spotted someone across the street waving peacock feathers over his head. We bargained him down to half the ridiculous price he was asking, and clearly still paid too much, but were glad to go home with them. Finally we found a quiet alley with a little hotel at the end of it and called an Ola home. Back home, we unloaded our bounty and scrubbed our feet and shoes. Next time, we’ll plan our escape route a bit better. Still, we were proud, if also overwhelmed and exhausted.

Chapter 8: Downtown Bengaluru

For our Ganesha Chaturthi 3-day weekend, we decided on a full downtown Bengaluru immersion. And just like that, we fell in love with this city.

On Friday morning, we called Madesh for a ride to our home for the weekend, the Oberoi Hotel. Melissa had requested an 11 am check-in, but the traffic was so light (likely because of the Ganesha Chaturthi holiday) that we got there just after 10. Nonetheless, they had a lovely room ready for us, overlooking the 100-year old rain tree. Check in at this beautiful 5-star hotel was a very formal process that included an introduction to the ipad that we’d use to control the lights, temperature, and TV; order food or special pillows; or request the services of our butler (!).

Oberoi grounds

The Oberoi lobby

Oberoi grounds

The hotel is located on the Mahatma Gandhi (MG) Road which was classified as a national highway, and a new law passed last year makes it illegal to serve alcohol within 500 meters of a national highway. While it was unfortunate that our hotel was dry, we were prepared with our own bottle of wine and pleased to have gotten a good deal as a result. (This week the MG Road was reclassified and is no longer a national highway. Huge relief for all of the bars and restaurants clustered around it.)

Our plan for the day included a lot of walking so we could see as much as possible of the downtown area while hitting a number of key places. The plan was to start with lunch at the Mavalli Tiffin Room, famous for huge, delicious, south Indian meals. Luckily (or perhaps sadly), we checked on the way there, though, and determined that they were
closed for the holiday. We hastily looked for nearby options and salvaged the meal with a visit to Bangalore Brew Works, forever on a quest for a good India Pale Ale in India. The 10th floor rooftop pub was perfectly pleasant, if not ecstasy inducing. The best part was the lovely view of the city, really showing what a green city it is.

20170825_120710 — View of downtown from the roof top restaurant

The walk gave us exactly the orientation we hoped it would. We walked through a super clean, fancy district, a neglected bit of street, a bustling commercial district that seemed to be mostly car and bike shops, and what seemed like the Catholic district — schools of all ages, a convent, and a church.

Friday and Saturday walks_LI (5) — The blue line shows our Saturday walk, while the red shows Sunday.

The next stop on our walk was Lalbagh Botanical Gardens where we spent a few hours walking nearly every path of the park. The gardens are lovely, and it would have been entirely relaxing if not for the 15 or so “selfie” requests. These requests are difficult because there is absolutely nothing wrong with any one of these lovely, happy people asking for a photo – it just becomes a problem when we don’t get 10 minutes free between posing. We’re not models.

By the time we left, we were hot and tired and needed a break, so we headed for the Soho Bar and Grill, walking through a really fun and lively bit of town on our way there. Soho, however, is not a place we’ll revisit. Tom’s beer was ok and Melissa’s cosmopolitan was fine, but Soho seems to specialize in hookah, with smoke wafting over both of their otherwise lovely decks. When we finished our drinks and asked for our check, they brought two more and told us it was two-for-one day (or maybe the two-for-one time of day – not totally sure). We had a couple more sips, but didn’t really want two drinks at that point so got going pretty soon.

From there, we started our walk to the National College. In an effort to avoid the noise of traffic, we went down a quiet alley filled with motorbikes and happened upon a huge Jain temple with service in progress (Paryushana is an 8-10 day holy event focused on forgiveness, but we didn’t know that when we happened upon the temple). Right next door to the Jain temple was an equally impressive Hindu temple.

We continued our walk, arriving at the National College Grounds for the Bengaluru Ganesha Chaturthi. Quite a spectacle! By 7:45, the main performance hadn’t yet begun and we were fading after having walked about 10 miles that day so headed back to luxuriate in our hotel room.

On Saturday morning, we headed down to the hotel lobby at 7:30 to meet up with some of our new friends (Ivana, a second grade teacher from Spain who taught previously in South Korea; Sarah, a middle school teacher from Virginia who taught previously in South Korea and Puerto Rico; and Colleen, Ethan, and their kids who joined us on our outing to the Nandi Hills, from Lopez Island of all places) and Tej, our guide from Unventured Tours. For the next 5 hours, Tej took us on the Downtown Market Tour – it was great!

Beautiful carving 1

Entering through the gate after stowing our shoes next door

The balcony from which Tipu Sultan addressed the commoners. Elites were on the other side.

The main entrance to the fort has huge doors with spikes at the top to poke the eyes of enemy elephants charging the fort

Pasta and other dry goods outside the market.

These are the powders in bulk. Be careful!

When we parted company with Tej, we went to Arbor Brewing, an off-shoot of a brewery started in Ann Arbor and finally had a really tasty IPA along with some pretty good food.

From there, we began a crazy odyssey in search of the Zefo warehouse sale. Zefo had been recommended to us as a good place for second hand and overstock furniture. Since we’re in need of a household worth of furniture, the sale sounded like a good idea to us. According to the map, it was in Southeast Bangalore where we had not yet ventured, so we called an Ola (Bangalore’s alternative to the ubiquitous Uber) and piled in with Sarah and Ivana. When we got to the address, it was a residential street, and we pulled up to what looked confusingly like an apartment building. As we were trying to figure out what to do, we asked a passing young man if he knew where Zefo was and he told us it was on the 4th floor of this unmarked building. We unwittingly let our Ola driver go and made our way up to the 4th floor only to discover that these were the offices of the Zefo internet company. Baffled, we asked some folks there where to go and they gave us an address 30-45 minutes further southeast. Sarah and Ivana had had enough and wanted to go home so we called them an Ola and sent them on the 90 minute drive home only to then discover that we couldn’t have two Olas in action at once. Tom downloaded the app and we called another car and then we waited and waited and waited.

Finally our driver came and took us to the warehouse which was a disorganized zoo with most of the furniture still packed up and salespeople showing it to you on their laptops – not so different from what we could have done from the comfort of our homes. Actually, it was less comfortable than doing it from home because the demand on the wifi was enormous, so it was slow and frequently dropped. Then we learned that the “sale” was 5% off which didn’t even offset the cost of the transportation to get there. On the upside, they did have unwrapped couches and chairs so we were able to sit on them and determine that many were no more comfortable than what we have (although they all smelled better). We picked out a few things, but felt pretty done with the whole experience and decided to head back to our hotel and continue the shopping from home (which we did – we’re expecting it all by the end of the week).

Back at the hotel, we prettied up in our luxurious room and headed down to Rim Naam for a glorious thai meal that concluded with complimentary dessert, a gift of Oberoi mugs, and, yes, a request from our waiter for a selfie.

Inside Rim Naam

Outside Rim Naam

The pond we overlooked during dinner

On Sunday, we awoke just before our coffee and masala chai arrived with lovely little cookies, and allowed ourselves a leisurely start to the day. We slept fitfully the first night in the hotel (I guess we’re just not used to comfortable beds anymore), but the second night was lovely. At check-out (another formal, seated process), we rather awkwardly asked for assistance making a brunch reservation at the Leela Palace where Melissa had previously gone for a meeting of the Overseas Women’s Club. Not only did he make our reservation, but he also offered to get us a cab. He was clearly surprised when we told him we wanted to walk the 3 km, and perhaps we should have paid attention – it was not a pleasant walk. It was long and muggy, not terribly interesting, and required passing a couple foul smelling dumping sites. Such a relief to arrive at the beautiful Leela Palace where we had a little time to explore before our reservation.

Citrus, the restaurant serving brunch, has a really nice outdoor area with live music and a pretty water feature, but we’d had enough humidity to be pleased with an indoor table. The food was incredible and varied, but perhaps the most exciting part was the cheese. Oh, glorious cheese! This is not a land with many cheese options other than paneer. The “milky mist” cheese is a bit rubbery and doesn’t melt. Even the imported cheeses don’t seem quite the same. But at the Leela Palace, they had camembert and provolone and emmentaler and so many more delicious cheeses. So good!

After our very relaxed and enjoyable brunch, we headed out to walk to Ulsoor Lake, but got caught in a downpour and decided that we were ready to return to our little apartment in the north, entirely contented with our weekend.

Downtown Market Tour

The Downtown Market Tour offered by Unventured Tours is also called the Pete (with both e’s pronounced like the E in egg) Walk, and our guide Tej was outstanding. She started by sitting with us in our hotel courtyard and talking a bit about Bengaluru, stressing the fact that she loves her city and the good people in it. In that context, she said, “People will stare at you, but they don’t mean you any harm. They’re just staring at the flamingos.” With that simple statement, she reframed one of the things that has felt really challenging here – of course they’re staring! If we saw a crowd of flamingos walking down the street, or even just one flamingo walking down the stare, we would absolutely stare at it, but certainly without any malice. We might even want to snap a picture 🙂

After giving a brief history lesson, Tej took us to the Shree Jalakanteshwara Swamy Temple, a temple dedicated to Shiva and built before the 13th century. She showed us how to make an appropriate offering of the god’s favorite things (including holy basil, turmeric, coconut, incense, pine resin, and other herbs and spices) and how to then receive the blessing of the priest. The blessing includes waving smoke over our faces, drinking holy water mixed with camphor, sprinkling that holy water over our heads, and then putting a silver cone over each of our heads. Most of these rituals focus on the gods sharing their energy with us.

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We walked around the temple and got a very brief orientation to Hinduism before heading to Tipu Sultan’s Summer Palace, an absolutely beautiful 18th century building. While there, Tej told us all about Tipu Sultan, a fascinating figure, responsible for not only mightily resisting the British occupation, but also for uniting previously disparate kingdoms to engage in that resistance, a union that ushered in an “Indian” identity for the first time in the long history of the subcontinent.

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We then went to the Bangalore Fort, built by Tipu Sultan and still well-maintained and very impressive. One thing you won’t see in forts in the Western World, no matter how old: spikes ten feet up on the door intended to gouge out charging elephants’ eyes.

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By then, we were all hungry, particularly the kids, so it was time to eat. Tej took us closer to our final destination of the KR Market, via some very busy streets and then down a long quiet alley to Lakshmi Natraja Refreshments. We would never have found this place without her and it was great! It’s apparently a place frequented by locals in the know, but not tourists, which seemed clear once we were inside. The environment is very bare bones – just metal benches arrayed around the room with no silverware or napkins. Tej ordered for all of us: Puda masala dosa with coconut chutney (sort of a pancake that’s crispy on the outside and soft of the inside, folded over and stuffed with deliciously spiced potatoes, onions, and lentils) and South Indian filter coffee (strong with the milk already added). Heaven! At the side of the room is a sink where you wash your hands when you’re done eating with them.

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Then we were ready for the chaos of the market where we saw beautiful produce, stunning flowers, huge metal cookware, bangles, and all manner of other things for sale. Between the aroma of the fresh herbs and the vibrant colors of the strings of flowers, we were in heaven.

Alley way kitchens like this are attached to Hindu temples to feed the poor.

20170826_110457 — The chaotic street scene outside the KR Market

Scenes like this are starting to feel commonplace: buffalos, motorbikes, cars and pedestrians all sharing the same very narrow streets.

20170826_112252 — Pasta and other dry goods outside the market.

A spice vendor outside the market. That’s Tej on the right explaining some of the spices to us. We learned we’d been using mace wrong. Oops.

Our first indication we had found our people. We couldn’t find fresh ginger that didn’t look like it was already starting to decompose. As soon as we stepped inside, we found it! (if you’re trying to do the math, that’s about 63 cents for 2.2 pounds of ginger)

20170826_114147 — These are the turmeric and vermilion powders that create the beautiful colors everywhere in Hindu life.

20170826_114333 — These are the powders in bulk. Be careful!

20170826_114917 — We found our future housewares in the market, too!

20170826_120536 — A very generous salesman gave the ladies four bangles each. Traditionally, the green is for fertility and the red is for love and passion. The younger members of our party were given both colors. Others whom we will not name here only got the red. The other colors are modern and just for fashion. Worn properly over the pulse point, they protect the wearer’s chakra.

20170826_115000 — Oh, my goodness, the colors of the flower market!

20170826_115038 — The mural standing high above the flower market.

20170826_122623 — We were struck by the fact that there were no cut flowers — only these strings of blooms intended for worship and ceremony.

Our new friend Ivana with flowers. The video that follows is taken of a woman threading this same type of string of flowers. It is not sped up. That is just how fast her (and others’ doing similar work) fingers move.

20170826_115505 — A station where they create the strands.

The final product of this man’s hard (and quick) work.

20170826_121338 — These two gentlemen were making place mats out of coconut tree leaves. Tej told us that she and her family would buy new ones every week here at the market.

20170826_123914 — The beautiful beautiful produce.

20170826_123831 — A cute little baby cow among the produce.

20170826_124053 — Another National Geographic picture that has become commonplace. This is how all of the booths and stores in the market were stocked. That’s our new friend Colleen to the right.

Throughout this entire tour, we just kept looking at each other, saying, “Wow! I love this!” Tej was a terrific guide, ensuring that at each step of the way we understood the context for the things we were seeing, which made all the difference.

Lalbagh Botanical Gardens

Lalbagh Botanical Gardens are right in the middle of downtown, quite close to Cubbon Park which we enjoyed a couple weeks ago. Lalbagh was commissioned in 1760 and finished some years later. It is considered to be the jewel pendant in the necklace of gardens that historically covered this city and, along with those other parks, were the “lungs” of the city. While many of the parks have been replaced by highrises, Lalbagh remains.

The park

The granite mountain

Bambi meets the seven dwarves

Monkey!

We realized after we passed through, this is the “Japanese Garden”

Jay: any notion what this bird might be?

The entry to the park.

We very much enjoyed walking amongst flowers, shrubs, and bonzai trees; around the lotus pond and the lake; and up to the top of the 3 billion-year-old granite hill with a temple on top. We saw random Disney characters and an imperialist remnant of a glass house. There were more monkeys and a crazy blue non-waterfowl of a bird skipping from lily pad to lily pad.

20170825_141523 — The glass house built in honor of an 19th century visit from the Prince of Wales. Now it’s used for flower shows twice a year.

While lovely, the gardens show some signs of neglect – statues in disrepair, a few abandoned buildings being reclaimed by foliage, the beautiful 19th century glass house that only has flowers in it a couple times a year.

The people there, though. Everywhere we go in this town, we come across kind, happy people. The joy and exuberance of the kids is inspiring. Parks like Lalbagh bring out the best in these already wonderful people. The worst you can say about them is the frequency with which they request selfies with us enjoying the park with them, remembering that our tour guide Tej called us flamingos. They are so kind and happy and eager, it is impossible to say no, particularly if we don’t want to be jerks (which we don’t). This means there are moments that someone asks, “Just one selfie, ma’am?” which turns into ten, and then another group wanting “one” of their own, and if we’re really “lucky”, a third group right on their heels. At times it feels like we are carnival freaks, but we remind ourselves it is just people being excited. There is a little bit of us that wonders if we are ending up on Facebook as part of some game — see how many pictures we got with the weird white people!

Melissa’s Musings: Ganesha Chaturthi

Tomorrow is Ganesha Chaturthi and we are excited for two reasons: we get to experience our first India festival and we get a three day weekend! We’ve decided to take advantage of the long weekend by spending time in downtown Bengaluru and doing some things that might normally be more difficult with the traffic between us and city center. That will also put us near some significant celebrations and allow us to visit some ancient temples.

On today’s walk, I saw a vendor selling Ganesh statues. Tomorrow begins 11 days of celebration in honor of the birthday of Ganesh (via a complicated “birth” story that involves beheading and reanimation with an elephant’s head). In the next few days, people will mostly have family events with special sweets and altars to Ganesh set up in their homes. Toward the end, the statues from the altars will be submerged in bodies of water around the city, sending Ganesh home,taking all of our misfortunes with him. Unfortunately, this practice has evolved from traditional clay statues to brightly painted plaster of paris statues that kill the fish in those lakes. There’s a big awareness campaign on right now, so hopefully this year will be better than last, although my local vendor was selling both kinds.

We look forward to having some great stories next week!

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