This is my inaugural post for this blog and from India. Connie and I have been here about two weeks now, and we've experienced a whole new world. Some of the experiences have been wonderful, some amazing, and some have made us want to pull our hair out. The world is made of contrasts, that's how we distinguish one thing from another, but when it comes to India, the contrasts are more stark, more vivid, and revealing than those that I have experienced anywhere else in the world. Because India is such a vast country and our experiences have been so vivid and varied, I cannot begin to relate it all from one blog post, so I've decided to describe one outing that we had about one week ago. It's intended as a representative sample of what we've seen, heard, smelled and thought. Welcome to India!
One afternoon last Connie and I and two of her colleagues went to Javanti Bazaar for some electronics shopping. We needed mobile broadband service (the way to connect to the internet in India), some binoculars to get a better view of some of the amazing and unique birds that we can see from our apartment window, and an RO machine for clean water. We traveled to our destination by in her colleague's car, and a whole separate blog entry will be needed to describe the streets of Jaipur. Suffice it to say we made it to our destination, a crowded, roughly two lane street located off of the main thoroughfare. When I say "two lane street", you must understand that the concept of lanes in India seems only a roughly understood in theory and only loosely honored as a practice.
We parked about one block away and turned right down the narrow street. Lining the street were small shops with every brand of electronics (except Apple) marking their presence. Rows of motorcycles filled the right-hand part of the street. This is no surprise, as motorcycles are ubiquitous here. We walked a short ways and turned into a small entryway of a shop that had a storefront of about 15 feet. The depth of the store was about 20'. The wall to our left was covered with a full color Canon advertisement. The store had about 10 people in it, about four customers and about six clerks. Connie began asking about mobile broadband service, and the conversation quickly turned to her colleagues, as the clerk (one to talk, one to get things, and four to watch), had only a limited ability to converse in English, and to get things done, we needed Hindi. The process for getting our mobile broadband, as with many applications for services or memberships here, began with a need for a great deal of paperwork. Paperwork is the by-word here. As this process was ongoing, I gazed out the open doorway. The other customers remained and watched C's transaction--this too, watching others do things, seems a popular pass time. The street was a constant pageant of motorcycles, cars, bicycles and pedestrians, all flowing along and past each other to the rhythm of constant horn-honking. I glanced over to C's efforts (slow going) for a bit, and then gazed outside again to see a very large white cow parked on the other side of the street. It had parked itself there to allow its calf to nurse. Both cow and calf seemed absolutely oblivious to the ruckus around them. I thought white cows existed only in mythological stories, but not so. Of course, by now I was accustomed to seeing cattle in the roadways, but in the high tech bazaar? The scene of serenity amidst the chaos provides a vivid visual metaphor for life in India.
After providing copies of drivers licenses, passports, and completing the forms, we are informed that someone will have to call upon us to verify our residence (this, it turns out, was only the beginning of the saga, but that, too, is another story). We score the binoculars and are ready to head out the door, but we must pause, as a herd of donkeys pass by, about a dozen or so, followed by two herders riding donkeys. Perhaps they needed new laptops, I thought.
Is this a complete or fair view if India? No, it's a view through a pin hole. I plan to examine many more subjects. As I remarked in the opening, the contrasts, the pace of life, and the culture here are so different, and yet sometimes so familiar, that it's startling and worth extended consideration.
For those who would enjoy another view, my wife Connie's blog, Iowa Guru in the Pink City, offers her take on what she's experiencing.
Until later,
Namaste
One afternoon last Connie and I and two of her colleagues went to Javanti Bazaar for some electronics shopping. We needed mobile broadband service (the way to connect to the internet in India), some binoculars to get a better view of some of the amazing and unique birds that we can see from our apartment window, and an RO machine for clean water. We traveled to our destination by in her colleague's car, and a whole separate blog entry will be needed to describe the streets of Jaipur. Suffice it to say we made it to our destination, a crowded, roughly two lane street located off of the main thoroughfare. When I say "two lane street", you must understand that the concept of lanes in India seems only a roughly understood in theory and only loosely honored as a practice.
We parked about one block away and turned right down the narrow street. Lining the street were small shops with every brand of electronics (except Apple) marking their presence. Rows of motorcycles filled the right-hand part of the street. This is no surprise, as motorcycles are ubiquitous here. We walked a short ways and turned into a small entryway of a shop that had a storefront of about 15 feet. The depth of the store was about 20'. The wall to our left was covered with a full color Canon advertisement. The store had about 10 people in it, about four customers and about six clerks. Connie began asking about mobile broadband service, and the conversation quickly turned to her colleagues, as the clerk (one to talk, one to get things, and four to watch), had only a limited ability to converse in English, and to get things done, we needed Hindi. The process for getting our mobile broadband, as with many applications for services or memberships here, began with a need for a great deal of paperwork. Paperwork is the by-word here. As this process was ongoing, I gazed out the open doorway. The other customers remained and watched C's transaction--this too, watching others do things, seems a popular pass time. The street was a constant pageant of motorcycles, cars, bicycles and pedestrians, all flowing along and past each other to the rhythm of constant horn-honking. I glanced over to C's efforts (slow going) for a bit, and then gazed outside again to see a very large white cow parked on the other side of the street. It had parked itself there to allow its calf to nurse. Both cow and calf seemed absolutely oblivious to the ruckus around them. I thought white cows existed only in mythological stories, but not so. Of course, by now I was accustomed to seeing cattle in the roadways, but in the high tech bazaar? The scene of serenity amidst the chaos provides a vivid visual metaphor for life in India.
After providing copies of drivers licenses, passports, and completing the forms, we are informed that someone will have to call upon us to verify our residence (this, it turns out, was only the beginning of the saga, but that, too, is another story). We score the binoculars and are ready to head out the door, but we must pause, as a herd of donkeys pass by, about a dozen or so, followed by two herders riding donkeys. Perhaps they needed new laptops, I thought.
Is this a complete or fair view if India? No, it's a view through a pin hole. I plan to examine many more subjects. As I remarked in the opening, the contrasts, the pace of life, and the culture here are so different, and yet sometimes so familiar, that it's startling and worth extended consideration.
For those who would enjoy another view, my wife Connie's blog, Iowa Guru in the Pink City, offers her take on what she's experiencing.
Until later,
Namaste
I enjoyed reading this Steve, keep up the good work.
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