Bangalore, Day 5
My short-slept nights are catching up to me, so today's post will be short.
My travel-mate and I finally got the chance to walk somewhere instead of being driven. We did some more shopping, and I bought myself and my mom more pretty things. Shopping for certain people is immensely easy in India, but there is only one kind of "thing," one kind of design and aura in all the clothes and artwork. I have found it extremely hard to find gifts for guys, or really anyone who does not typically choose things in the bohemian style. Apologies in advance to all my urban-minded friends.
Walking anywhere is an adventure. The sidewalks are not really sidewalks, but slabs of concrete placed over small (2 ft wide) canal moats that are for drainage. Half of the concrete slabs are broken or upended or nonexistent, so then you walk on the street. Most of the drains were dry, waiting for when it rains. Trash ends up there. I told my travel-mate that it was unhygenic, and she looked at me with an expression that asked where I had been all week.
She has a fair point. But I've spent a large share of my time here having the door opened for me, or sitting in clean cars (admittedly 40% of the time without a seatbelt), or in a tech company office. This was the first time I had walked through a neighborhood area instead of being confined to a market. Really my first time with my feet on the ground, stepping over the electrical wires that drape aimlessly from trees and hopping from sidewalk to street whenever the sidewalk became too difficult to maneuver.
I am still at a loss as to how to photograph this place. I prefer to avoid taking pictures of people--I wouldn't like it if people came to my city and took pictures of me. But there are just so many people in India. There is no way around it. And it is not like Boston, where there is a tourist every five steps. I went the whole of tonight only seeing one other expat...and she was Asian. Bangalore is not a tourist city, really. I also am only really out when it is dusk or dark, which makes photography difficult.
As long as we're talking about things I haven't done that I was told to do by the people who knew about my trip--I haven't found one postcard to send. If I promised you one, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to pull it off.
Tomorrow is my last day at the office here. My last day with some of my new writer friends. My last day to hold meetings in offices named after Indian scientists and have lunchtime conversations comparing American and Indian reality shows and sports (baseball vs cricket). I am beginning to miss them already, and I'm sure it will only get worse. I always miss people more than places when I leave.
Sleep now. When I wake up, there will be just over 48 hours left in India for me.
My travel-mate and I finally got the chance to walk somewhere instead of being driven. We did some more shopping, and I bought myself and my mom more pretty things. Shopping for certain people is immensely easy in India, but there is only one kind of "thing," one kind of design and aura in all the clothes and artwork. I have found it extremely hard to find gifts for guys, or really anyone who does not typically choose things in the bohemian style. Apologies in advance to all my urban-minded friends.
Walking anywhere is an adventure. The sidewalks are not really sidewalks, but slabs of concrete placed over small (2 ft wide) canal moats that are for drainage. Half of the concrete slabs are broken or upended or nonexistent, so then you walk on the street. Most of the drains were dry, waiting for when it rains. Trash ends up there. I told my travel-mate that it was unhygenic, and she looked at me with an expression that asked where I had been all week.
She has a fair point. But I've spent a large share of my time here having the door opened for me, or sitting in clean cars (admittedly 40% of the time without a seatbelt), or in a tech company office. This was the first time I had walked through a neighborhood area instead of being confined to a market. Really my first time with my feet on the ground, stepping over the electrical wires that drape aimlessly from trees and hopping from sidewalk to street whenever the sidewalk became too difficult to maneuver.
I am still at a loss as to how to photograph this place. I prefer to avoid taking pictures of people--I wouldn't like it if people came to my city and took pictures of me. But there are just so many people in India. There is no way around it. And it is not like Boston, where there is a tourist every five steps. I went the whole of tonight only seeing one other expat...and she was Asian. Bangalore is not a tourist city, really. I also am only really out when it is dusk or dark, which makes photography difficult.
As long as we're talking about things I haven't done that I was told to do by the people who knew about my trip--I haven't found one postcard to send. If I promised you one, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to pull it off.
Tomorrow is my last day at the office here. My last day with some of my new writer friends. My last day to hold meetings in offices named after Indian scientists and have lunchtime conversations comparing American and Indian reality shows and sports (baseball vs cricket). I am beginning to miss them already, and I'm sure it will only get worse. I always miss people more than places when I leave.
Sleep now. When I wake up, there will be just over 48 hours left in India for me.
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