Bangalore

If you've ever seen a film about a zombie attack, or an alien invasion or some sort of geologic catastrophe, you know to expect a scene where everyone is trying to flee the metropolitan areas and escape en masse to the presumably safer countryside.  The routine and order that are the cornerstones of civilization are cast off, as so much dead weight, so that a few (and presumably the hero) can escape the disaster.  Imagine that scene - imagine it actually happening in your home city - and you have conjured a reasonable facsimile of a typical trip across town in Bangalore, India.


In the Delhi airport.

I was not mentally prepared for India; I should admit that right away.  I was conscious of this before I left, telling people that I was preparing myself by simply not expecting at all.  It turns out that was a proper approach.

It's 6:30 a.m., local, as I write these words.  Sleep arrived like a flash flood around 9:15 last night and, aside from an hour of wakefulness I managed to sleep through until 6 a.m., after 48 hours of being awake.

 
A on the road to Bangalore.

Some things you will see driving in India: Those cows you hear about, they really are everywhere, but there are also lots of goats feeding on brush and lots of feral dogs feeding from garbage piles.  When there is a stop light or some other obstruction to the mad flow of traffic, cars will just keep forcing their way forward, toward the obstruction, narrowly avoiding contact with each other and pedestrians, until there are four or five or six packed abreast into two lanes and the shoulders (and of course lanes and shoulders are loose categories, at best).  Scooters and motorbikes are everywhere.  During a short trip (such as the fifteen minute drive to A's office, which I took yesterday) you will see a family on a motorbike; husband driving (a young child may ride on the handlebars), mother in back, riding side saddle, and an infant child held in the mother's arms.  The father may be wearing a helmet - the driver can be ticketed for riding without one, but only in cities - the others will assuredly not be wearing a helmet (although in once case I did see the woman holding the man's helmet as they drove).

I could not be happier to be here.  Culture shock has never felt like a more apt term for an experience I've had, but after a very richly-experienced half-day in Bangalore (and a full day in India) yesterday, I am thrilled by the trip already.  It would have been worthwhile if I was returning tomorrow.

A and D (for various reasons, A scrupulously keeps their names off of the interwebs) live in a great little neighborhood, guarded, gated and surrounded by relatively discreet razor wire at the top of a wall.  We had a wonderful dinner of local food last night - lamb baked with rice, chicken marsala, date bread (a new favorite of mine), dal, chapati (I think), etc.

Overwhelmed by imagery, I've hardly snapped a photo yet.  I include these here only for good form, not because they are especially worthy.  I will probably put some more up this afternoon, as we're going on our first big outing in an hour or so.