Bangalore city driving is interesting. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes move like a school of mixed fish species. Honking means something different than in the US. It means “Here I come. Get out of the way.” Drivers do not look to the side, ever. And they only stop when it is absolutely necessary. They just nose into the river of vehicles and claim a space. Most cars are small. Whole families (mom, dad, child, baby) ride on a single motorcycle.
Driving in the India countryside is just plain scary. I got a chance to experience it last weekend and again this weekend on the way to some temples. I was not doing the driving. I was in the back seat, the guy with the white knuckles. Read more…
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In the spirit of Infinite Regression, I saw one this weekend. A stairway landing with a giant mirror on each side, facing each other. Look in one and see yourself reflected infinitely deep as your image bounces off the other. I was transfixed. And barefoot. And a long way from home.
The stairway is in the Palace of Mysore, in India. I am here on a business trip. My hosts took me siteseeing. Here are some pictures: mysore
Here are a couple of other observations that I shared on facebook.
Imagine this scene: a river of traffic at rush hour in Banagalore, every kind of imaginable vehicle swimming in and out. From the left, two open trucks squeeze in ahead of us, each filled with very rusty propane tanks. Behind us is a small procession of men with a shrine - drumming, singing and lighting very large firecrackers. I was wishing I could remember the words to any prayer from my youth.
Today’s scene as I left the hotel, on a quiet side street. My driver waiting with a new white car. The hotel dog – medium, black and white, skinny, handsome – looking up the street. A woman in a sari, squatting to draw a mandala in chalk on the pavement in front of her shop. A man on a bicycle with 200 coconuts. A woman in sweats jogging with iPod. A large cow strolling down the center lane. Me, without my camera.
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