Laad Bazaar

Why have I been wasting my time in the malls?  Today I went to a real Indian market.

I asked my driver to pick me up earlier than usual so I could go to the bazaar before the heat set in (as if!).  We set off for Laad Bazaar, near Char Minar in the Hyderabad's Old City.

Char Minar (meaning 4 minarets) is a 400-year-old mosque in what was once the center of  the city.  The Laad Bazaar is a warren of stores, stalls, and vendors nearby.  It took us a long time to get there, but I didn't mind because there was so much to look at as we drove through the city.  The neighborhoods of Hyderabad are such a jumble of beauty and ugliness, with the fancy houses of film stars right next to the blue-tarp-covered hovels of the poor.  We also passed several nice-looking parks that I hope to explore another time.

As we got closer to the Old City, the streets became busier with all manner of people buying and selling all manner of goods -- fruits, vegetables, hoses, inlaid wood furniture, mirrors, handkerchiefs, bamboo, fabric, shoes.  Not to mention the traffic --overloaded autorickshaws and motor bikes, bicycles, cars, little trucks, the occasional tractor or wagon -- and people walking in the street or trying to cross.  It's not uncommon to see a woman in a beautiful embroidered saree carrying what looks like a large dish full of mud on her head.  In theory, people here drive on the left side of the road.  In actuality, they frequently veer into the wrong lane to avoid obstacles (rubble, animals, people, holes in the road, police checkpoint barriers).  Rotary-style intersections are common -- it feels like total chaos to me.

The driver finally dropped me off at Laad Bazaar around 11:30.  For awhile, I just walked around trying to get a feel for the place.  Most of the stalls were just opening up, putting out their goods, sweeping up.  I was surprised because no one was bothering me.  I went down what turned out to be a residential alleyway. There were some long-eared goats and a few little children running around.  One of them bumped into me and we both said Sorry, and then Sorry again, and again -- it was a game. And no, he didn't try to pick my pocket.

When I stopped to examine some scarves on display, I began to get an idea of how shopping works here.  The vendor came over and greeted me.  I asked him how much was this scarf and he told me (150 rupees, which is about $3).  My job at this point was to say something like, "I can't afford that!"  The vendor's job was to show me more stuff and then offer me his "best price."  I didn't really haggle much, so I'm sure I paid more than I had to.  Oh well, it's only money.

At some stores, the vendor invites you in.  You remove your shoes and sit down, cross-legged, on a large mattress that covers the whole floor.  It's very comfortable.  The vendor takes things off the shelves and shows them to you until you've seen enough.  At one place, I wanted to buy the very first thing I looked at -- the vendor seemed really disappointed.

At some point, I stopped at a little place and had a Sprite so I could sit in the shade and watch the world go by.  Compared to other parts of the city, there seemed to be more women in black burkas here.  When you look closely, you notice that the burkas are often embellished with sequins, embroidery, or other needlework.  Some of the fabrics are subtly patterned or pin-striped.  I've seen a lot of burka- or saree-clad women on the back of motor bikes, too -- riding sidesaddle of course. 

The only time anyone really bothered me was when I was standing on the corner waiting for my driver to pick me up again.  A guy was trying to sell me a pair of Rayban sunglasses.  He wanted 3500 rupees.  I said no.  Him: Well how much would you be willing to pay?  Me: 200 rupees (thinking this would be so insultingly low that he would go away).  Him:  Is that your best price?  It turned out he was willing to accept 200 rupees for them. Boy was he mad when I said I didn't want to buy them at any price, leave me alone, go away, etc.  I was very happy to jump into my car when it arrived!  Even happier when the driver handed me a big, cold bottle of water for the trip back to the hotel.

SK Wearing

SK stands for salwar kameez, which is a traditional way of dress of many Indian women.  The salwar part is a pair of draw-string pants; I think there are different terms to describe the ones that are loose vs. tight.  The kameez part is the tunic top (like the French word, chemise).  There's also a 3rd piece, a dupatta, which is a shawl or scarf.

When I found out that I would be travelling to India, my first (or maybe second) question was, "What will I wear?"  I was obsessed with this for weeks.  From afar,  SK looked like the right answer:  business-appropriate (modest) and comfortable. Still, I hesitated.  Would it be ridiculous, or even rude,  for an obviously Western woman to wear this outfit?  And how would I know what style to buy?  After all, I don't want to go to work looking like I'm dressed for a wedding.  I decided that the best approach was to wait and make up my mind after I'd had a chance to see how people dress at work.

As it turned out, I didn't have the energy to shop in Delhi, but I wasted no time once I got to Hyderabad (see my 5/30 post).  But I still didn't have the nerve to wear my new SK in public.  Finally last Thursday, I told the guys on my team that I wanted to wear beautiful Indian clothes and asked them if they thought that would be weird.  They were encouraging.  Besides, I was running out of my "real" clothes. So Friday was the big day.

I thought I detected more than the usual number of smiles from the hotel workers I passed as I left the Westin -- but those could have been smirks, right?  Then when I got to my cube, Dev said, "Oh, you look beautiful!"  What woman doesn't want to hear that?  And again, more than the usual number of smiles from the rest of the people on my floor.  Which I decided to take as a good sign.  At the end of the day, for the first time, I kept my working clothes on until time for bed instead of immediately changing into sweats -- that's how comfortable I felt.  This adds up to SK success.

First thing Saturday, I went out and bought 4 more SKs, each more beautiful than the last.  I was so excited about my purchases that I laid them all out on the bed together to admire.  (Sorry, I didn't take a photo.) Then, because I'm a spoiled American living in a hotel, I sent them all out to be pressed because it simply won't do to wear wrinkled clothes here in India.  Since then, I've been SK all the way, every day. 

Today I wore the fanciest one.  I think it's silk.  It's dark red with gold/copper appliques and embroidery.  A woman on the elevator told me that I looked great, the color is very becoming on me.  And a guy in the cafeteria told me that Indian style of dress suits me very well.  Wow.  I'm not accustomed to compliments from random strangers.

The only downside is the dupatta.  Theoretically, it's very practical.  You can cover your head with it, use it as a carrying-sling, or fold it up and sit on it if you don't want to dirty your other clothes.  But for some reason, it's worn like a winter muffler in reverse, with the loose ends trailing down your back.  Inevitably, it slides around so that one end is dragging on the floor or I'm sitting on it or it's choking me.  This doesn't seem to bother the Indian women, but I am constantly yanking on mine. 

Doesn't anyone here know that Isadora Duncan's dupatta was her cause of her death?

Toilet Mysteries

I know that some of my co-workers are reading this blog. I hope that this post doesn't ruin my career at UHG.

Before I came here, some people warned me that Indian toilets would be primitive.  That is not true.  In fact, they are so sophisticated that I find myself mystified by certain features.  I'm too shy to ask. 

1. What is the meaning & utility of the 2-button flush?

2. What are you supposed to do with the hose?

Working in Hyderabad

The last few days have been all about work, with not much time or energy for writing. I don't have any new pictures but I promise I'll take some and post them later this week.

The car & driver arrangement got off to a rocky start. On Monday, apparently, the driver showed up, didn't know what to do, and left. Eventually I called Puneet (UHG transition coordinator) and he picked me up. Tuesday's driver did not know where the office is. Despite my protests, which he probably didn't understand, he took me waaay over to the other side of Hyderabad. Lucky for me, I have a cell phone on which I had stored the phone number of the UHG Transport Help Desk. This is an amazing service, available 24x7. I explained my predicament and they called the car service, which in turn called the driver, causing him to finally pull over & turn around. I'm not sure who gave him directions (certainly not me), but when we got to one of the pre-office checkpoints he still had to ask the guard where Bldg #14 was. In all, my 5-minute commute took about 45 minutes. That guy is not my driver any more. Today's driver was much better -- speaks English & knows where the office is. I hope I keep him.

Even though the office is quite close, I won't be able to walk there. For one, it's too hot. There are sidewalks most of the way, but they end where the huge, chaotic construction zone around the office begins. Our building is finished on the outside but several floors are still under construction. If you step out of the elevator on one of those floors, there's marble dust everywhere - look out, it's slippery. On one floor there are actually large chunks of marble, as if a wall was demolished. Across the street from us is something gargantuan under construction; no idea what it will become.

This picture is the view from inside my building.  The large building on the far left is under construction.  The 3rd building from the left (in the distance) is the Westin.  In the foreground is a pit where you can see the foundations of yet another building..

Before you get anywhere near the building, it's necessary to go through at least 2 security checkpoints where I have to flash my UHG badge. Since we don't occupy the entire building, there are guards on every floor. They don't carry guns but they wear military-style uniforms that make them look very serious.

My team is on the 7th floor, a vast uninterrupted expanse of cubicles, if you can call them that. The walls are only about 8 inches above desk height, so you can see everyone's head. Although most cubes are occupied, the place is surprisingly quiet. I'm happy to say that everyone did NOT drop what they were doing to stare at the strange lady who just walked in.

I finally got to meet 2 of my new team-mates: Karthik ("car-tik") and Dev (his full name is Debabrata; thank goodness for nicknames). They are both ambitious young bachelors, eager to learn, anxious to please. Karthik strikes me as down-to-earth: he's soft-spoken, lives with his sister and her family, and likes to play with his six-month-old niece. Dev is flashier -- he wears his hair a little spiky, has a metal stud through his soul-patch beard, and I swear the guy has dark blue eyes (contacts?). He's into death-metal music. Like the rest of the India team that I met in Gurgaon, they are always looking out for my welfare. It's touching.

There are lots of small logistical problems in the office, so all 3 of us have had to be creative and flexible. Our "training room" is in fact a tiny conference room on the 2nd floor, with space for only 4 people -- so we'll be at our max when Nagar arrives on Friday. There are only 2 network ports & no WiFi, so we can't all be online simultaneously. (We unplug our cables & pass them around.) Karthik & Dev are still getting set up with email, messaging, webex, access to drives, etc. so I'm doing the training via projector -- I shine it on the wall. I spoke to Puneet about all of this. He said it took him 15 days of negotiations already to get us that small conference room and it's the best he can do. He is facing tremendous challenges but promises that it will all be much better in July when the 6th floor is finished and the WiFi is in. Sure hope so. Back at our cubes, the Cisco IP phones have not arrived yet (delayed by volcanic ash?), so we are using cheap Tata phones with no features.

This is a picture of Dev, Nagar & Karthik, taken in our tiny training room on Friday. Can you read Dev's t-shirt?

The "cafeteria" is just a large open room with tables. At one end there's a guy who serves hot dishes (no idea what) from what looks like a steam table with no steam. At the other end there's a guy who does things with fruit: salads, juices, etc. Another guy serves small items that he warms in a microwave: veg & cheese pastries, "frankies", chicken burgers, samosas. He also has sodas & snacks. It's pretty slim pickins for me right now because I'm being extremely careful (you could say paranoid) about what I consume. I'm going to have to figure out some solution to this -- maybe start bringing lunch from the Westin. I'm also finding it very difficult to keep my team-mates from paying for all of my meals. I don't know if this is a host/visitor or male/female thing -- it was the same in Gurgaon, where Sharad picked up every tab.

After work Monday night, I finally went to one of the hotel restaurants. I hate being in a restaurant by myself, but I can't eat in my room forever. I chose Prego -- yes, it's Italian -- and was pleasantly surprised. I was really in the mood for gnocchi, comfort food for me, but didn't expect it to even be on the menu. It was, with prawns (shrimp), and it was really, really good. Perfectly cooked. Since it was more than I could finish, I took the leftovers to work the next day & reheated them in the microwave. I need to do something like that every day.

Today's challenge was coffee. I absolutely must have coffee in the morning and I've been making it with the French press in my room-- until today. No packet of coffee in my room. Housekeeping stopped by to replenish my supplies and told me that the coffee was near its expiration date so they removed it & replaced it with instant coffee packets. What!?!?!? Breakfast downstairs was officially over & the last time I showed up late it threw them into a panic. I was saved by a little coffee shop in the lobby that offers coffee, espresso, cappuccino... So I got my caffeine fix after all.