India halfway. Impressions. (off to Hawaii!)

Upon the halfway point of my trip, I will indulge you with some anecdotes/rememberances from the trip.

Ice. Ice is a very valuable commodity. Most places don't have any ice, and if they do, they harbor the cubes as if they raised the cubes themsleves from baby water.

Last Monday, I was at a restaurant for late lunch - it was hot and humid day - and there was nothing more I wanted than an ice cold Coca-Cola. But it arrived with no ice.

"Could I get some ice, please?" He departed and returned with a large, shiny silver bowl filled with ice. He dipped in his brass tongs and dropped one cube into my halfway-filled glass of Coke.

"Still more ice." He nodded and dropped one more into my glass.

"Still more." Same pleasant response, and I was awarded with a third cube.

"More. More. More." Four, five, six.

"Yeah, still more. Thanks. But more please. More. More. Could I have just one more? Okay, that's good. Thanks."

Boy, was that Coke good! Icy goodness!

"Please don't smash your baby's penis up against the window, thanks." Occasiaonally the homeless people here get very pushy. One woman went a bit too far for my taste. I'll afford you the luxury of not adding a photo illustration.



And after all this time, my favortie place to eat:





McDonald's. This will inevitably change back to The Hyderabad House, but I am still recovering from my gastroruinmyinsidesitis, and damn, that McChicken and fries never tased so good.



Now I'm off to Delhi and then 120km south to see the Taj Mahal. Hmm, I wonder if it's as cool looking as Trump's. After that... Tokyo, for 12 hours. Then Hawaii. A good friend of mine, James Dingus, is getting married - I arranged this perfect sabbatical before I left. 9 days in Hawaii.

Then I will return to India for the 2nd half. Wish me luck.

Aloha!

Correction: I won.

This is tough to believe even for myself.

Literally minutes after I posted the previous blog of sickness, mostly to garner sympathy, I heard a large booming sound of drums coming from the street in front of my hotel.

I knew there were celebrations going on today. Specifically, the Ganesh Festival - I read about it - it's the celebration of the birth of Lord Ganesh.

Ganesh is the eldest son of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati. He is one of the most popular and most worshiped Indian gods. His image is one of the most widely drawn, painted and sculptured. He is the elephant-headed god. That's the gist - the entire country despite religion celebrates this day - 1 billion strong.

So, despite my pains and aches, I ventured down to the street to check it out. I started taking pictures of the large elephant God statue and the kids on the truck bed carrying it. Pretty cool.












This statue to the left is on it's way to the enormous celebration at Hussain Sager Lake in central Hyderabad. It will be lowered by crane into the lake, along with thousands of similar nature.

Then I ventured up to the drumming and dancing area that led the Ganesh truck. People lined the streets. The drummers called me to take their pictures. Smiles abound.


But then, one of the elder dancers pulled me in the middle of the drummers. I really had no idea what was going on. I went with it. Love was there.


They started to drum for me. Dancing and girating and stomping around me, I had no recourse but to give in and dance with them. Feverish pitch, pounding, stomping, laughing, smiling - I danced with them with all my energy - dispite my state.

And then another elder hugged me and wrapped a sacred headband around my head. The younger men then threw powdered paint all over me of red, burnt orange, and lime green. Two men came up and annointed me with red, in between my eyebrows. When in India...

I continuted to dance - amidst all of them, across from men challenging me with energy(they won that battle - but my effort was very respectable), and spinning through all of them. I smiled and laughed with them - absurd!





Then my body began to talk to me. I took a break. They gave me water - cold bottled water. I told them I could not go on, I was feeling sick. Their answer? Pull Scott back in. More dancing. Jumping. I said to myself, "How can I not?" Off I went.





After another break, they let me go. Exhilarating isn't a word that reaches what I just went through. Well, I do know exhausting is one word that does. And alive. Happy.

I left them and walked back down the street to my hotel with a bottle of water and a smile on my face, sweaty and covered in paints and confetti. Everyone that saw me as I walked back smiled.





So I will be fine. The stomach pain is still there. But it was completely forgotten for a good 30 minutes. I'm still trying to comprehend it all. Back to bed. After I shower off the paint.

India won. And I lost.

For this post I am going to exercise brevity.

Looking forward to a night of reverly upon a possible Indian cricket World Cup victory, I began to feel ill on Monday afternoon and decided to retire to my room to watch the final match from my bed. Excitingly, India won in amazing fashion.

The team lifted the entire country - but I have since spiraled the opposite direction.

Gastroenteritis. Know that I am in good hands. I arrived here with Citro antibiotics for this very special occasion. In addition, Bhaskar and myself walked through a very busy hospital and I was immediately seen - they evidently have some pull in this city. A good feeling that unfortunately didn't extend to my entire body.

I am now bedside with stomach pains and stomach "problems." And to answer many a comment - YES - I do have toilet paper in large supply.

-Scott

INDIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, first pictures. Thank you, Brandi - bought a great still camera yersterday based on your perameters. Canon.

Last night, India defeated Australia in semifinals of the Cricket World 20/20. I was in an exclusive club - Liquids - atop Hyderabad to experience the melee that ensued. Melee.

The hero is Yuvraj Singh. He single-handedly destroyed the Wallabies by smashing the ball repeatedly into the stands after a slow Indie-start.

Here are a few shots - note that on Monday, India will be playing Pakistan in the final(they defeated New Zealand in the other semifinal.) I say "note" because last night was insane - no words will be able to capture Monday's match.

I'm holding a long island iced tea - my 4th by my count. Four too many by the judge of my groggy semi-wakeful head this morning. But they taste great with insanity.

Indian (Morse) code. .. . ...

I've been studiying this honk phenomenon. I didn't go into to detail previously about it because it was only something I noticed upon arrival in Hyderabad at 1:30 Monday morning - I was travel woozy and I thought maybe they were honking to let everyone know I was here - so they could brace themselves for the culture shock of Scott. Not the case.

The honk is a language of vehicles in this city. I cannot speak for the whole state or country for I have yet to travel out of my domestic radius. But I'm guessing it's similar - I reside in the well-to-do region of Hyderabad - and even here, there are no traffic lanes, a disregard for the dividers(unless they are cement), and you'd be hard pressed to find a traffic light.

But the city still flows. And ebbs. Oh, yes, the ebbing is commonly accompanied my honks from each vehicle trying to manage their way towards conflicting destinations. As I'm being driven to work, I've been watching my driver and his honks and the motorcycles' honks and pedestrians - no, they don't honk - but there are plenty of honks for them.


>>Honk Legend<<

*honk* - short honk

*HONK* - long honk

**HONK!!** - Los Angeles honk


1. *honk* - traffic is flowing, this can be arbitrary. This is to maintain stasis, keep the flow. There is usually a small motorcycle to the side. Cars or motorcycles on each side.

2. *honk* *honk* - traffic is flowing, but there is something up ahead on the side - possibly a pedestrian - tells them to stay as they are, in position - there's a vehicle on the way that might kill them if they wander out.

3. *honk* *HONK* - traffic is moving, but something or someone is in the way. The first honk is to communicate your presence, the second - get the fuck out of the way. (not really as hostile as this - everyone usually moves, without gripe.)

4. *honk* *honk* *honk* *honk...* - a motorcycle does this when moving through slow traffic. Each honk is for each car passed. How considerate.

5. *HONK* *HONK* - going around a blind corner, important to let another car or motorcycle or person know you're coming - they may be on your side of the road. This is common, and it works. We would have killed 17 people so far if it weren't for the old reliable, double-long honk.

6. *honk* *HONK* **HONK!!** - the progression communicates as well as the end honk itself. Since there are really no lanes, we commonly need to go left across two cars to turn left, including navigating around a huge bus, to get to our designated street. So, students: *honk* - we're here - *HONK* - we're coming, so move away or... don't move at all(stay put) - and lastly, **HONK!!** - Don't move your big-ass bus another fucking inch because you're going to crunch our pristine luxury sedan and sandwich the motorcycle in between us and snap his femur, so just chill the fuck out out for a second while we drive horizontally across in front of you and the motorctycle, and hey you, pedestrian - don't even try and walk across us right now, we have to get Scott his morning coffee.

At least these people have their principles. That's why I love it here.

Where the %#$&* is Scott?

Thanks to assistance from my good friend Enrique who is world-savvy, here's a link that I specified a bit more.



Once you click the link,



1. Click the Hybrid tab in the upper right corner - you'll get the Google World actual photo of where I am.

2. Zoom in closer. The closest you can go is the second to last notch.

3. Just to the left of the green dot at the intersection BEFORE the road that borders the park - that is where I am staying. (The end of the T-intersection.)

4. You can see the trails I've been talking about in the park to the left.



http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&q=Road+No.+14,+Banjara+Hills,+Hyderabad-34,+Andhra+Pradesh,+India+map&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wl


-IndiaScott

Little cocks and captionlings

I have finally adjusted to the time difference. And I have somewhat of a routine that I'm enjoying. It's Wednesday afternoon here, 12:28 p.m. In Los Angeles it's 11:58 p.m. I think Hyderabad alone attributes to the extra half hour or lack thereof. It's pouring rain outside after being sunny and bright just 10 minutes ago.

Two nights ago I woke up at four in the morning; my body thought it was 3:30 in the afternoon. I watched Tiger win the PGA Tour Championship by 8 strokes. Ho-hum. I went back to sleep.


I woke up at seven - on my own - this would never happen in LA with me - and walked to the park nearby, a two-minute walk - the KBR(Kasu Brahmananda Reddy) National Park. The park is fascinating; a rich, cultivated forest with wide dirt rock-lined paths. It's fascinating moreso because it's juxtaposed with the hustle and bustle-honks of the Hyderabad; signs line the park within that read, "Observe the sweet silence of the nature around you," and "Man belongs to Nature. Nature does not belong to Man." One of my favorites, "While in the park... The only thing you should shoot is photographs. The only thing you should kill is time." It's the jungle admidst the concrete jungle. I did not coin this last phrase. (multi-reference from Wikipedia, 2007.)

The most common sighting within the park is the peacock. My first day in the park(I ran again there this morning), I went off the beaten path into the forestry and came across a large female peacock. Upon seeing me, she rose up onto a rock slate to gander my way, and I quickly saw that she had some little followers. Little baby peacocks - seven of them. She responded to my presence by turning away and trotting down the rock, and the little baby cocks followed - hopping up onto the rock in a line, and jumping down the rock away, disappearing into the brush. This brought a big smile to my face - they were following mommy.

Peaceful now, I was ready for my first day of work. I have two pupils so far - Balakrishna and Guru. They are 25ish young men. Guru calls me Guru. He is right. I am the man. However, this is all a bunch of bullshit unless I get them to learn captioning and grammar. As well as listening and hearing accurately what is said.

Guru typed, "I GOT BACK IN FISH POND AND KNOW LEFT ROCK." When I checked his work I asked him if that made sense. I had him read it to me out loud. This was a very contentious moment. If he thinks what he just typed makes sense - that means there is NO HOPE. Whatever I do for the next 6 weeks is pointless. Because he is an English-related idiot.

But he answered right. He laughed, "No, Mr. Guru Scott, it does not make sense at all." Ahh. Thank God. Thank Buddha. I had him relisten. Again and again. Then he came up with, "I GOT BACK FROM THE FISH POND AND HAD LEFT MY ROCK." Damn. Pretty close. Okay, he didn't know the word "rod." I can live with that. I can teach this man. "It's 'rod,' Guru. You fish with a rod. The kid left his fishing rod."

"Oh, thank you. Yes." Both of them have the same attitude and understanding of what sounds right, albeit after the fact. So, an uphill battle. But this is only Day 2. Tomorrow I get two more new employees to teach. They are both young women. Excited at the prospect, Guru laughed and said he'll take over the training from here. "Keep it in your pants, Guru," I said.

"What do you mean, Scott?" he asked.

"I'm the guru, Guru. That's your lesson for today."

I'm here. Where's the toilet paper?

First I must edify the previous post. Although it was a lengthy journey, I discovered that I had a 10-hour layover in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Nicely, ThinkSmart put me up in a local hotel - The Empress - that also supplied me with two meal tickets during my stay.

Upon my arrival to The Empress, I fashioned their lunch buffet, and found myself picking at vegetable curry while I watched Australian rugby. Australia beat the Wallabies, 34-20. I left the hotel hungry and wandered the area, rundown and shabby. I have yet the ability to import photos on this trip(please bear with me), but I would've captured a wonderful old KFC-Sheeba's Refigeration maintenance truck that was in front of, obviously, a KFC. Sheeba was fixing the sign. There was no chicken in sight. Or whatever it actually is.

Two Indian lads I met during my unfulfilling buffet lunch recommended the 4-hour tour of Kuala Lumpur, and when I returned from my walk, a tour was leaving. One seat left. I took it. Everyone in the van was Indian, including the driver(a self-proclaimed third generation Malaysian-Indian), so for the 45-minute trip to Kuala Lump, I kept my trap shut.

I went on the tour trip because my lunch lads had told me about the big tower in the city, some 500 meters high(over a quarter mile). On the drive to the big tower, I saw a sign for Infrastructure University as well as a huge billboard for my state-of-the-art Samsung futuristic cell phone that I had left at home, broken. I miss it dearly. But infrastructure - Kuala Lumpur is in need of that - a beautiful city of green and fine artchitecture that is exploding with growth, yet interlaced with poverty and run-down facades. The tower taught me this. For every fine looking anglular temple, there is a nearby shoddy cement building with old dirty blankets and peering eyes looking out. But a degree from Infrastructure University will solve that!

So I arrived here in Hyderabad. Oh, and another thing I learned from my lunch mates: how to pronounce the city name - I thought very important to learn BEFORE you arrive in Hyderabad. I had been telling everyone I was travevling to Hyder-a-bad. But fortunately I was corrected - it's Hyde-ra-bad. It sounds way better. And less offensive. Well, not offensive at all.

Upon exiting the plane from Kuala Lumpur, I was met by three Indian gents, one of them I would be spending a lot of time with - my guide, My Man Friday - Baskhar. (I didn't name him My Man Friday, okay - Vishnu, the CEO of ThinkSmart, told me that over the phone, this morning. "He's your man, whatever you need, he's your Man Friday.") And effective, because now I can abuse him with no regrets whatsoever.

Now I have to leave the office(the only place with internet for me - albeit, a very nice office with a very nice chair htey gave me), so I will only mention one more thing for now.

They honk a lot. I think they do because they don't have a word in Hindi for it. But driving from the airport at 1:00 a.m., the driver guy - learning 4 Hindi names in 5 minutes is tough to remember - the driver guy kept honking about every 5 seconds. Honk. Honk, honk! However, it's really never out of anger like in Los Angeles, but more... to let people know that you are coming, and you may hit them if they do not move immediately. Nice. It has something to do with the fact that Hyderabad is a city of about 1 million people and very few traffic lights, street signs, or well-maintained roads. So it's really out of courtesy. Honk, honk! I am here! I am here! I am here! >> That was in reference to the horns - and me.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. The title of the post. Right now, I am typing in the ThinkSmart office, and I have been holding in a Number 2 for an hour. Take a guess why. I went into the bathroom earlier and found no toilet paper - but worse, there was no place where the toilet paper should be. I immediately came back to the office and asked Baskhar where the toilet paper was, and he laughed, "There is no toilet paper, Scott. Welcome to India."

-Scott

Launch: Los Angeles

Welcome to India Scott blog dot on my forehead dot com. The premise is this: A company is paying me to go to India to teach. More specifically, Hyderabad, India. Don't worry, I got all my necessary immunizations this afternoon. My arms hurt. 4 shots.

But let's not simplify and generalize, that's not what this blog is about. This blog is about the fact that I, as you know me, Scott, is being paid by a company - ThinkSmart - to go to India to teach their employees the fine art of closed captioning. Closed captioning in it's best form provides all the specific words and sound effects within a TV program or film, all the while communicating that information with perfect grammar and spelling and readibility. I must get these Indians to the gold standard - my standard.

That's it for now - I have to finish packing to get ready for my 30-hour flight. ThinkSmart has gone first class and booked me in a plush economy seat on Malaysia Airlines that leaves at 1:30 in the morning from LAX. From here I fly 14 hours to Taipei, Taiwan, before my connection to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - 5 hours - and then I go directly to Hyderabad, India - just another 4 hours. Should be a great, fun flight. Including layovers, I'll arrive 2 days later than when I left Los Angeles.

This will be a life-changing experience for me - I'm not sure I'm ready for the impact the Hyderabadian culture will have on me. I'm sure I will assimilate and blend in seamlessly. I'll try and keep you posted with impressions and experiences as I go along.

-Scott

and TAIPEI, TAIWAN