Mr. Cliff & Friends Go On Safari - Part 2

After arriving at Baghvan and getting settled in our lodging, I didn’t waste any time going on my first safari. Our resort employed its own safari staff, consisting of two separate guides and cool three tiered jeeps. They ran two safaris a day, one leaving very early in the morning, the other leaving in the evening. Why, you ask? Because it was 47 degrees. You may be thinking, “Well, golly, Cliff….if it’s 47 degrees wouldn’t you want to go in the afternoon to get some sun so you aren’t chilly?” Well, no, because that 47 degrees happens to be in Celsius. I’ll save you the headache of trying to do the conversion yourself, and tell you that equates to about 117 degrees Fahrenheit.  In other words, it was frickin hot. So there was no complaining about waking up at 5 AM when you had felt the sweltering heat of central India summer afternoons.

A group of us in our sweet safari ride.

Jayme and I were the only ones that partook in the safari on the evening we arrived, while the others continued to get settled in and took in the sunset by a nearby river. The resort was only a quick 5 minute drive from the gates to the park, which was nice. Once we got to the gates, our guide checked us in and walked back with our escort that works for the National Park. Pench isn’t the biggest of the tiger reserves in India, but it is very well run. (You can’t say that about a lot of things in India.) They require a park employee to go with every tour to ensure you follow the park rules, and they also provide another set of experienced eyes to keep a look-out for cool things. They also limit the number of tours that can go per day, which is great because it never seemed too busy. You could go quite a long time until you saw another jeep, unless you were staked out by a watering hole or other common area and a tiger showed up.

Once we were all checked in at the park office we were off on our evening cruise. It was a great introduction, seeing many cool animals I’d never seen in the wild before. It’s amazing how they can listen for warning calls from different animals and try to triangulate the positions of the big predators whose movements would justify such alarms amongst the different members of the animal kingdom. There was one such time on our first safari that was an awesome example of this. Our guide Sangita heard a monkey warning call very close to the road, so we stopped to watch. We could see the monkey in the tree who gave the call looking down in to the thicket below. Soon enough there were 5 other monkeys that had joined him in his tree looking down at the predator giving their own warning calls. Sangita said we were very near a leopard territory, so that that’s probably what it was, but unfortunately we couldn’t see it due to the thick underbrush. Very cool to hear/see nature’s sirens in effect though.

The rest of the post will be mostly pictures of the cool animals we saw, and I’ll stop for a story here and there. Some of these pictures were stolen from others on my trip who had much nicer cameras than me, so thanks to my travel partners.



Deer talking to monkeys.

 I was very excited when we saw a herd of deer about 15 seconds after we entered the park. It didn't take long to realize that there was hardly ever a time in the park when you could look around you and NOT see a deer. Literally saw thousands of them.



Looks like he might have some leftovers. Might need a doggy bag. ( See what I did there? )

Once while making our way towards a watering hole hoping to see a tiger, we saw a herd of deer running frantically across the road a ways in front of us, obviously spooked by something. Seconds later, we saw a couple of jackals jogging lightly through the trees. Obviously they had spooked the dear, but it looked as though they were far behind and giving up. Little did we know they were just driving the deer into a trap where their friends were waiting. As we drove over the next ridge, we saw the fruits of their labor. It was awesome to see the food chain at work, even if the sight of the deer still struggling while the jackal tore out its entrails was somewhat unsettling. Our guide said that seeing a hunt live like that was extremely rare, so we (or at least I) felt very lucky to see it.

Not sure what this guys was called, but it was a beautiful bird. It's wings are entirely blue, especially underneath, so when it flew it looked like a blig blue streak across the sky. Beautiful.

I think this might be a Rocket Tailed Drongo-  and that is just a badass name for a bird.



Crested Serpent Eagles. Hartd to tell how big these guys are in these pictures.

 

Kingfisher




Some sort of small owl.



Peacock trying to defend its turf from the intruding deer. I don't think it's working.

There were more new species of birds to me than I can count. I didn't get pictures of even half the cool birds we saw. I really regret not getting a picture of the elusive pink footed pigeon. I also decided that for some reason, I hate peacocks. I have no idea why, but I really hate peacocks. If any of my readers is an amateur psychiatrist and could get to the bottom of that for me, I'd be interested in knowing why.

Also, we saw a group of quail, which really interested our guide. Apparently he didn't see a lot of quail. To me it was kind of like "Whatevs, NBD. Let's go find some leopards or something. What's so great about a quail?" But then I realized that a lot of people in my group had never seen quail before. I was also the only person in the vehicle (including our guide and the park employee) that knew that a group of quail was called a covey. Score one for the Kansas farm boy! I did not mention that I knew that because I like to shoot them and that they are delicious.


You want a piece of me?!





Meeting of the minds.



This guy just looks smart, although no doubt he's thinking about hurling feces at me. Which some would probably agree is a smart thing to do.



I was unsure if this is a baby monkey or an alien. Still undecided.



Looking back, there were obviously a lot of baby monkeys.

 Monkeys are always fun to see. Pench housed two main types of monkeys, but the majority of the ones we saw (and in the pictures above) are Langur monkeys. There were probably as many monkeys as there were deer. They were all over the place, and they seemed to be at ease with the other animals of the forrest. They mingled with the other animals quite comfortably. I'm guessing they have worked out a deal that they can roam wherever they choose as long as they continue to sound the alarms when predators are in the area.

 Alright, enough with the smaller animals and birds. We were really there to see tigers. That's the one thing everyone hopes to see when they are on safari at Pench. And it definitely isn't a given. Sometimes the park can go for days without any tiger sightings, it's all up to them. And since they are committed to be as least disruptive as possible, there are very strict rules about where you can go and what you can do. The vehicles MUST stay on the roads and approved pull-off areas. No ifs, ands, or buts. You absolutely can not get out of the vehicle unless you are at a designated area. So when you pull up to these watering holes or any area in the park, you are completely at the mercy of the animal and the trees and grass. That's why in almost all of the tiger pictures, you can see trees or leaves disrupting the pictures. There's no getting out and walking around to get a better angle. It's kind of frustrating, but when you think about it, it's a good thing. Tourists would become a frequent snack of tigers I'm sure if we were allowed to roam. Plus we'd destroy their habitat, as man is known to do. We were lucky enough to have 3 total tiger sightings spread over 2 different safari's.

Thirsty tigers.



Muddy tiger don't care.



Say "Cheese!".  Or maybe in this case, "Antelope!"



Sufficiently refreshed from his mud bath. 



I just like the reflection in this one.

 

And this one.



This is one of the watering holes in the park.


Also, when there is a sighting, word gets out quickly. Lots of vehicles will just stay camped out at water holes, since that is the most common sighting area. One tiger sighting I think every jeep in the park showed up at the watering hole. And when the tiger got up and left, it was a race to the other side of the ridge where the tiger was most likely to emerge from the forest back to his lair. It was a complete mob mentality, and sometimes got somewhat dangerous. At one point there was line of about 20 vehicles driving as fast as they could in reverse because someone thought they heard or saw something. Pretty entertaining actually.


Did someone say Tiger?

 

Checking to see who got the best pictures.


We also stopped to ride elephants during one of the safaris. I was on the fence about this, because I didn't have an awesome experience with this in Sri Lanka the last time I rode an elephant. But this was much much much better. These elephants were huge, and 4 of us (plus the mahout) rode it at one time. And instead of a 5 minute trek around a track with a mahout pounding on the elephant with his stick, we roamed lazily around the forest for about 45 minutes or so. It was really cool, and I'm glad I did it.



Riding sidesaddle. And yes, I was able to stay on for 8 seconds.

Other elephants we saw on our elephant ride.



Tickle tickle. It's good to know elephants have a sense of humor too.



These last two are just artsy pictures taken by Andrea Z that I really liked.

 Here are some other random animal pictures I won't go into too much detail on.


These deer like thingys are called Sambar.



Another Sambar.



This guy is called a Blue Bull. Weird creature. It's like a combo of a horse, antelope, and cow. When you see it in real life it actually looks kind of blue. Can't tell so much in the pictures.  



Another Blue Bull. They were an endangered species once upon a time when they were called Blue Horses, and people used to hunt them. So they changed the name to Blue Bull, and since cows are sacred to the religion, people stopped hunting them. Pretty clever.



Pumbas.



Guar. (Pretty much an ox.)



Wild Dog.

There are lots more animals that we saw that we didn't get good pictures of. The trip was amazing. Being out in the wild and seeing animals like this in their natural habitats has ruined going to zoo's for me. You might get a better look at them in a zoo, but out in the wild you are seeing them on their terms as free animals. It's a completely different experience, and one I'll remember for the rest of my life. I think it's safe to say that this was my favorite India vacation so far. One might say it's the Taj Mahal of India vacations. But then again that would be confusing. (For the record I enjoyed this more than the Taj Mahal)

The group with our guides.

Mr. Cliff & Friends Go On Safari- Part 1

Less than 18 hours after I landed in Bangalore, I was awoken by my alarm clock in the wee hours of the morning yet again to make a trek to an airport. But this trip  wasn’t for work or involve moving my life halfway around the world. This trip was for vacation and a little R&R with some old friends, so I was excited. I even got to say hi to my old driver Shyam (who is now Jayme and Andrea’s driver), as I caught a ride with them to the airport. After some minor hiccups at the B’Lore airport (I had forgotten all of the ridiculous steps they make you go through when boarding planes there), we met up with the rest of our party, including my old travel partners Andrea and Dr. Alan along with Andrea’s mom Ada who had just arrived for a visit, and newly arrived second term expats Andi and Mike Marston. (For those of you counting at home, that’s 3 Andreas and 1 Ada in the female ranks of the crew.)

After an uneventful flight we touched down in Nagpur, which is right smack dab in the middle of India (also known as BFI), and found our transportation that drove us a few hours to Baghvan Resort on the outskirts of Pench National Park. Pench National Park is home to one of 3 tiger reserves in the area, and was the setting for Rudyard Kipling’s “The Jungle Book”. Fun fact:  Kipling was actually born in India, and if you look at the animal characters in the book, you find most of them at Pench, and most of their names are Indian.



Come to think of it I have encountered many people that act like they were raised by a pack of wolves, much like Mowgli.....

Even though we were really out in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way we could claim that we were “roughing it”. The resort was incredible. It was small, our group took up nearly half of the entire place, but it was awesome. The bungalows themselves were top-notch, but still rustic enough that you knew you were still in the wilderness. Simple yet lavish at the same time.  Each one had its own outdoor shower, and an open air bedroom up top that you could choose to sleep in if you wanted. The rest of the grounds consisted of a “great hall” that included the kitchen, dining room, and sitting areas, and then the pool and the staff quarters. All were in their own nice little secluded areas.



Upstairs open air bed.



Private outdoor shower.




The sitting area in the great hall.



The hospitality was second to none. The kind of attention you get from the staff almost borders on annoyance, until you slow down and tell yourself they are just doing their jobs, and doing them very well. The food was beyond description. I was slightly worried going into the trip that I wouldn’t be able to ease my system back into the Indian cuisine, but those fears were quickly put to rest. From the first meal we ate, I could tell that the food would be the least of my worries. The only issue was slowing down and not eating too much because it was so delicious. I did not succeed in that.


Every time you drove in or out of the grounds the staff came out to greet you.

 The head chef Sachin was incredible, cooking up delicious dish after delicious dish using mostly ingredients from the on-site organic garden. You literally had to be forceful with he and his staff to get them to stop bringing food. Somehow they packed about 5 meals into a day. About 5 AM every morning before our first safari, they had tea, coffee, cookies, donuts, and fruit sitting out for us. Then they packed muffins, sandwiches, cookies, and other goodies for us to eat on our safari. Then when we got back around 10 AM, they cooked us a full Indian breakfast. Then at 1 or 2, we had lunch, followed by a full dinner that evening. I’m not sure I’ve ever eaten more food in just a few day span.

Sachin working his magic.

The group sitting down for one of our 6 thousand meals. I'm guessing this was 3rd breakfast.

 At our meal the first night, someone asked Sachin how he made one of the dishes. That got him really excited, and somehow he turned that first into an Indian food cooking lesson, and somehow that evolved into a Masterchef competition. So the next afternoon we made our own lunch while learning the intricacies of Indian food cooking. The teams were divided up guys vs. gals, and the competition consisted of a quiz portion which the women dominated (I think the only questions the guys got right were: “Name two brands of India Wine”, and “Name the National Soup of India” which Jayme knew from the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld). There was also a blind taste test where we were blindfolded individually and told to name the main ingredient of a certain sauce. The women won this one as well, as they all agreed on the correct final answer. I actually got it right as well, but I wasn’t confident enough in my answer to convince the rest of my teammates. The answer was Spinach. I think the men won the actual cooking portion of the competition (and let’s be honest, isn’t that by far the most important part?) but apparently the women won the overall title. Which is ok. I wouldn't have expected the women to win a wood chopping contest (or insert some other chauvinistic comment). It was a fun time nonetheless.


Jayme and I were clearly having fun putting the finishing touches on our delicious dish.



Being a lifelong hater of spinach, I was able to correctly guess the secret ingredient.



Putting my 4-H skills to good use.

The other meal of note was our final night, where they took us to a special place on their grounds where they had lit the entire pathway with lanterns. And when we got to where we were about to eat we saw a gigantic tree lit up with dozens of lanterns. At first I thought they must be electric, and the tree wired somehow, but upon closer examination they were indeed real lanterns. I asked Sachin how much time it took to hang all of the lanterns from the tree, he nonchalantly said it took a few guys the entire afternoon to hang and light the lanterns. Just for this meal for probably a dozen people total. Amazing. Unfortunately it was tough to photograph, but it was pretty magnificent. As usual the food was amazing, and it was a perfect last night for my first trip back in the country.



Lovely little lantern/candlelight dinner.



You can kind of see some tables in the bottom right corner to give you an idea of how huge this tree was.

 I didn’t set out with the intentions of this trip garnering two separate blog posts, but I see I’ve already typed over 1000 words just talking about the food and the lodging, and I haven’t even gotten into the safari’s yet…..so I’m going to cut this one off and start a new one for the animals or else it might take three hours to read one post! (My friend Casey likes to make fun of me for getting into too many worthless details when I describe my experiences, so I’m sure she’ll have a hay day with this one. Well, eat it, Casey. This is my blog, not yours. )

Next post I promise will be all about the cool animals and things you might actually want to hear about!

Back to Bangalore

After a whirlwind 5 days of traveling that saw me touchdown in 5 different countries and eat more meals on airplanes than I did off of airplanes  (a feat I hope I never replicate), I finally arrived in Bangalore around noon on Thursday. As I exited the airport and searched amongst the dozens of welcome sign toting drivers clad in white linen uniforms for the sign that said “Welcome Mr. Clifford Olander”, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s chaos to be sure, but familiar chaos.



I may have kept the sign....



Anyone who’s ever flown to Bangalore can attest. There are cab drivers yelling at you attempting to lure you to use their service, the million smells of the country hit you all at once, there’s the sweltering heat, there are people trying to grab your bags hoping for a tip if you allow them to assist, amongst other craziness. These things that might have overwhelmed me during my first tenure just made me smile this time around. It almost felt like India’s way of saying, “Welcome back, Mr. Cliff!”  Again, it was chaos, but a familiar chaos that automatically triggered my India survival mode that I had previously worked 8 months to build.

Finally I spot an eager young gentleman, with a moustache that would make Tom Selleck jealous, holding the sign I was looking for. I give him a smile and a head nod indicated that yes, the one white dude that got off the plane was the white dude he was looking for. 

Tom Selleck's got nothing on Mahesh's killer stache. Although Magnum P.I. didn't have to drive a mini van.

Side note: My old roommate and good friend Ryan Nintzel and I used to play a little game called: “You know you’ve made it in life if…..” and then you fill in the blank. One of his favorites was, “You know you’ve made it in life when you get picked up at the airport by someone you don’t know holding a sign with your name on it.” I definitely wouldn’t say I have it made in life, but it is a good feeling.

The drive from the airport was just as I remembered it; long, slow, and tedious. But it did give me some time to learn about my new driver, Mahesh. Mahesh is actually three years younger than me, which made me feel a little bit old. He was born on Friday the 13^th, which is very bad luck indeed, especially for Indians. Very inauspicious. He enjoys cricket and tennis, even though he’s never actually played tennis, and his favorite player is Rafael Nadal. His favorite thing to do is ride his motorcycle, which was given to him by a previous boss. He also won points with me when he asked me how often I worked out. I said I try to a few times a week. He said, “You are looking very buff. Like Hollywood hero. You remind me very much like Brad Pitt. Do you know Brad Pitt, sir?” I just had to laugh.  A ploy to get on my good side, I’m sure, but it was appreciated nonetheless. And then he talked about how much he liked Brad Pitt. It could have been much worse, because Indians love Tom Cruise. I probably wouldn’t have taken that as well as I took the Brad Pitt comparison.



According to Mahesh, Brad Pitt is my new Doppleganger. Yeah, that's right. I'll own that. Look, we even both like to stick out our tongues and make weird faces at the camera. I'm sure he wears silly hats, too.

After an hour drive or so, we arrived at my new old home, The Oakwood. The guy at the front desk remembered who I was!  I got settled, took a quick snooze, and ordered my old room service faithful, Thai Style Fried Chicken with Jalapeno Cheese Bites. The guy who delivered it also remembered who I was when I opened the door and said, “Welcome back Mr. Olander, we haven’t seen you in long time. I thought it must be you when I saw the order.” He had once given me a hard time for ordering the same thing all the time, begging me to try his favorite food, which is the biryani. But I remembered Raju as one of my favorite employees, so he got a 100 rupee tip. It’s good to feel remembered!

I called it an early night, as I had to wake up plenty early (again) to leave the next morning. And as my head hit the same familiar pillow and the same familiar bed, digesting the same familiar food, I couldn’t help but smile again. Between the airport, the traffic, the hotel, the food, and everything in between, it almost felt as though I had never left. The life I had been living the last 9 months in the US felt a million miles away......or 8000 to be exact.

Up next is a very new experience with some old friends. A wildlife safari at one of India's national parks known for Tigers! I'll give you one picture as a teaser.

Glutton for Punishment

I always had a feeling the day would come where I'd have to make a difficult decision. So when my boss pulled me into a room in early February and said, “No promises either way, but it looks like we may need you in India again if you’d be willing to go,” I can’t say that I was surprised.  I had replayed the scenario countless times in my head, waffling back and forth on what my answer would be. I surprised even myself when my first reaction was to chuckle and say, “I think I might be able to do that,” without the words “no thanks” ever entering my mind.

Sure, there are certain circumstances that would have led me to say no. If it would have been asked of me closer to my return from my first foray on the Indian subcontinent, my answer might have resembled something closer to “Oh hell no.” Needless to say I was ready to come home at the end of my first trip, for a multitude of reasons. But as time passed after my return, I found myself remembering the good times and the positives of my time in India more prominently than the torturous times and the negatives. I think that’s a good thing, because that’s how I want to remember it, as one of the best and most formative experiences of my first 29 years on planet Earth.

Still, there were circumstances where I probably would have said no. I may not have been able to be convinced if it was going to be another 8 months or longer. But when I was told that it looked like a three month or less assignment, that sealed the deal. (Yes, I remember distinctly remember how easily timelines can be mysteriously stretched in India, but I think I can make this one stick...which hopefully aren’t my famous last words) I could handle a three month adventure, especially now that I know what to expect. I told my boss that I plan on spending my 30^th birthday in August in Las Vegas, not India, and he promised to have me home by then.

What also made it much easier to say yes is that I still have friends in Bangalore, including my former neighbors and Yahtzee partners Jayme and Andrea, and my Sri Lanka and Hampi travel partners Alan and Andrea. One of my favorite things about living overseas, especially in a trying environment like India, is the tight connections you form with people. Exhibit A: I recently attended the wedding of a Miss Casey Huss (now Mrs. Casey Krebsbach) in Mexico, where a Mr. Chris Gunnon was the officiant (an idea hatched at Romano’s after a few Old Monk & Cokes) and I provided musical entertainment (entertainment is probably a loose term). You may remember those two from previous blog posts such as Playing in the Sand and Where Everybody Know Your Name.  Having friends that you can share your experiences and frustrations with, ones who you can relate to and are going through similar things as you, is vital to an assignment like this. I made lifelong friends during my first stint that I have stayed very close with, and I look forward to continuing those existing relationships and forming new ones.



Casey with her favorite Reverend and and rock star in Mexico.

 The project itself I’m working on also should be less stressful than my previous projects, aided by a bucketful of lessons learned from my previous experiences and a more knowledgeable and strategic approach. Plus I don’t have to try to remodel a building that is filled with working employees, an ambitious endeavor that is never done by anyone there, and something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

What I’m probably looking forward to the most are the once in a lifetime type trips and adventures that I plan on taking while I’m here. A few weeks ago I was surprised in my cube by Andrea, who happened to be on a trip back to America. After exchanging excited pleasantries and a bear hug, she asked me when I was planning on arriving, and when I told her she said, “Oh good. So the first weekend you’re back we’re going on a Tiger Safari with some other Target expats. You in?” Well duh. Who doesn’t want to go drive around the jungle looking for tigers? So you can be expecting a post on that in the next couple of weeks, hopefully accompanied by some pictures of tigers and other cool animals. I’m not sure what other trips I’ll take this time, but I’ve got a couple potentials in development including a riverboat tour through the rainforests of Borneo and possibly a stop Down Under on the way home, if timing permits.

The last few weeks have been spent hammering out details and preparing myself mentally and logistically for what’s to come. Two weeks before my departure I got a call from my boss who was traveling in Asia at the time. The paraphrased conversation went like this, “Cliff, I’m in Jakarta, and there’s a project here that needs some attention. Could you move your departure date up and stop by Indonesia on your way to India?” Sure, why not?  Of course my passport was in Chicago getting my Indian visa arranged, and I was a little nervous about the transfer of my passport from the Indian consulate to the Indonesian consulate for that visa, and then the return back to Minneapolis in time for my departure. Turns out I shouldn’t have worried, because of course Target employs someone who specializes in making sure this kind of thing gets done. It showed up on time, and I even had a day and a half to spare!

So after my trip from Minneapolis to Chicago to Hong Kong (a 15 hour flight I don’t wish upon anyone) to Jakarta, I’m sitting in my hotel half asleep writing this post that I have been meaning to write for a month.

View of Jakarta from my hotel room. More impressive than I expected.



Tomorrow I’ll arrive in Bangalore for the part 2 of my India adventures. I am fully aware of what I’m in for. I remember vividly the punishment that India delves out on a regular basis. The physical, mental, and emotional toll that the country takes on you is still seared into my memory. There will be times that I will be scared to be more than 10 feet from a toilet. There will be times where 10 smells will hit me at once, none of them good, all of them threatening to make me lose my curry. There will be times where I will be so frustrated I will scream, whether it be from the ass backward way things run there, or from the lack of personal space, or thousands of other possible irritants. There will be times where my choices of food are the green goopy stuff or the orange lumpy stuff. I will come back with less hair, and what’s left will be populated with more strands of gray. Maybe that makes me a glutton for punishment.

However, as I’ve learned the last few months, all of those negatives will merely become an afterthought and just part of the experience. This time I’m armed with a more positive attitude and determination to not only survive, but to thrive in this chaotic environment. And after this journey, what I’ll be left with are great friendships, good pictures, and incredible experiences that few are lucky enough to have in their lifetime. I’ll take that trade-off.

Bring it on India. I’m ready for you.

Let Freedom Ring

As you may or may not know, my end date here in India has been about as fluid as the Ganges River. When I agreed to come, the time period was 6-9 months, which is pretty ambiguous. Then because of certain projects being pushed back, I thought I might get to come home in mid May, as all I had to do was finish a simple remodel project. I sat down in March to come up with a schedule of two months that while ambitious, it was realistic. In the US, we could get the same done in a month or month and a half easy. The contractor himself said it would take 10 weeks.

Boy was I off. Way off. I mean, not even close. Although I had been here for several months and had already experienced one India construction project, and a very successful one at that, I didn’t realize just how challenging this job would be. I mean, the scope seems simple. Tear down a few walls, build a few offices, a new hand wash area in the cafeteria, replace some carpet and wallpaper, and call it a day. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. Remodels like this just aren’t done in India. Especially in buildings where employees are still working. Especially when many of your materials are stuck on a boat somewhere between the US and India. We are swimming in uncharted waters.

Before I knew it, mid May became the first of June. The first of June became mid-June so I could make it home in time for a wedding. Mid June became late June. Late June became getting home July 3^rd, just in time to drive to Kansas for possibly my favorite holiday. When I finally conceded defeat, that there was no way I’d be home for the 4^th, I was pretty upset. Not Christmas in Dixie upset, but pretty bummed that I was going to miss my family and fireworks and celebrating the independence of our great country on actual US soil. Luckily Andrea and Alan promised me at the time that they’d try to throw a 4^th of July party to try to make up for my disappointment. Did they ever come through!

But first, I need to explain my typical 4^th of July, if for no other reason than to remind myself how awesome it is. The day starts around 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning, when I set the alarm to wake up and light off the biggest Saturn Missile Battery that I could find in my fireworks shopping. Why? Tradition, that’s why. I’ve been doing it ever since I can remember. What better way to start the day than to wake up the fam and all of the surrounding neighbors than with a minute of screeches and explosions?! Later in the morning, we always dig out an ancient VHS tape that has an episode of Looney Tunes where Elmer Fudd battles a colony of ants with fireworks. Classic episode. Again, a family tradition that we’ve been doing as long as I can remember. The only reason we keep a VCR around the house is to watch that episode once a year. Later in the morning I usually light off some smaller fireworks with the nieces and nephews, or if we’re still cutting wheat as we usually are, help with harvest.



Possibly the greatest Looney Tunes episode ever.

Here’s where I need to bring up that 4^th of July is my favorite meal day of the year. Better than Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, all of them. Lunch is usually the one time a year mom makes her delicious fried chicken, accompanied by heaps of steaming real mashed potatoes and corn on the cop, and glass after glass of ice cold sun tea. For dessert, homemade cherry pie fresh out of the oven made with cherries picked from the trees out back, accompanied with vanilla ice cream. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Later that evening we head down the road three miles to River View Farm, where the granddaddy of all Independence Day celebrations is held. There we get together with my mom’s side of the family and have an amazing BBQ, which probably takes the cake as my favorite meal of the year. Burgers, brats, baked beans, taco salad, raspberry chipotle dip, all of my favorite BBQ foods accompanied by a few cold beers. It’s absolutely heaven. After our family BBQ other guests start arriving, bringing with them all sorts of homemade desserts that we enjoy with at least 3 different kinds of homemade ice cream. There is always homemade vanilla, strawberry, and lemon sherbet. Sometimes other flavors will make appearances as well. But it’s always homemade, and it’s always delicious.

After everyone’s bellies are full, we settle down for the show. The 4^th of July celebration on the farm was started by my Grandpa Art somewhere around 30 years ago (I think). Since then, it has become one of our most important and beloved family traditions. It’s not just eating and fireworks. After ice cream and before fireworks, there is always a speaker or two. In years past, Grandpa Art used to give a speech and then call upon people randomly to give an impromptu speech on what the 4^th of July or the family means to you. We’ve had speeches from nearly every family member, state representatives, members of the military, foreigners who have become US citizens, and the list goes on and on. The point is that we like to recognize what the holiday is, and not just for the fireworks and food. Sometimes we might even sing patriotic songs.

That being said, after all of the speeches and food, come what I must say is a very impressive fireworks display. My Uncle Jim is a wizard with fireworks shows, and I’ll say we probably have one of the most diverse shows around. We have what you might call three different stations. Closer to the crowd we have the fountains and roman candle station as well as a few smaller things. Just behind that, there is a board where we have pinwheel and Saxons. Then in the back, what we call the “pit” we have the bigger guys, the artillery shells and other giant monstrosities. Jim usually needs a crew of at least 3 people to pull off this type of show, and before this year, I’ve worked in the pit for the last 6 or 7 years. We work in perfect harmony with each other, someone always has a firework cued up and ready to go. Since the 90% of the fireworks are provided by the 70+ guests every year, we always let the crowd know who brought what before we light them off, so they can either be praised or chided for their purchases. Right around dusk, we have sparkler time. Everyone, no matter of their age, has to do at least one sparkler. And everyone does, as no one wants to be the one to break the tradition.

And that wraps up one of my favorite days of the year. So you can see why I might be bummed to not be back for it. And like Christmas, this might be the first time I’ve ever missed our family’s Independence Day celebration. And I don’t plan on missing it ever again.

Now back to this year’s celebration. I arrived at Andrea and Alan’s excited with what I saw. Jayme and Adam and their wives joined us, along with a couple of other Americans. We had quite the feast! We had Juicy Lucy’s (which are hamburgers stuffed with cheese and cermelized onions) which were incredible, corn on the cob, 7-Layer dip, Doritos, peanut butter pie, and even a blue cake with red and white frosting. It might be the best meal I’ve had in India. Everyone dressed as festively as they could with what they brought to India, and we had a grand old time.



Enjoying our delicious Indian BBQ!



Patriotism is delicious.



Andrea and Alan’s driver even went out and found some fireworks for us. They weren’t anything big, and weren’t exactly what you would call “safe”, as the fuses would burn for about .2 seconds before igniting the rockets, but they were fireworks, and that’s all that matters. We even had sparklers! I almost felt as though I could be back home in Kansas. We ended the night with a sing-a-long, passing a guitar around the circle. All in all, it was a perfect substitute and more than I could have ever asked for in an Indian Independence Day party.



Some of our fireworks...I didn't know that fireworks could actually be racist. Leave it to India. You can't really tell from this picture, but the one on the left is actually Jennifer Hudson. Do you think she knows an India Fireworks company is using her picture on their box?

Later that week on the actual 4^th of July, I brought Baskin Robbins (not exactly homemade ice cream but tasty nonetheless) to my construction site meeting for everyone, and explained to them the significance of 4^th of July in America. I tried not to rub it in that we gained our independence from the British about 175 years before India did. Later on in the meeting I had to get a little stern with my contractor, and it did feel a little funny to have to set down my spoon of ice cream to do some yelling. Usually I’m happy when I’m eating ice cream. Not this time.

Eventually July 3^rd became July 26^th, and I’m confident enough in that date to have booked my plane ticket.

I’m bummed that I missed my usual celebration, but some good came from it as well. I think almost as much as Thanksgiving,  4^th of July is a holiday to give thanks. I love America. I’m very thankful that I call it home. I’m thankful to our forefathers who fought so hard and sacrificed so much for our independence. I’m thankful to those who are still making sacrifices and serving our country overseas and at home. I’m thankful to have the opportunity to be truly free and everything that comes along with it. I’m thankful for my ancestors who persevered and settled in Kansas and lived a harder life than I’ll ever imagine. I’m thankful, and damn proud, to be an American.

India calls itself the world’s largest democracy. And I guess technically, they are right. Having 1.2 billion people in your country will let you claim a lot of things.  But make no mistake, they have a long way to go. Things I’ve witnessed here have made that very clear. Democracy is a good start, but several hurdles, some of which seem insurmountable, stand in the way of them being a first rate country. Human rights issues, corruption, infrastructure problems, lack of what you and I might refer to as "common sense" and so much more hold them back from being a truly free and truly great nation. I hope they get there someday, I really do. They have come a lot way, but still have twice as far to go.

If nothing else, being here on the 4^th of July really made me reflect on how good I (and we as Americans) have it. There is a big deal between first world problems and third world problems, and I hope that’s one of the things I take away from this experience. While the average American is sitting in their air conditioned houses complaining about gas prices or whatever else, an average Indian is doing whatever they can to scrape together a few rupees to buy enough rice to feed their family.  If nothing else, India has given me the gift of perspective.  On July 4^th 2013, while enjoying my homemade ice cream and fireworks at River View Farm, I hope it’s a gift that I remember.

Driver Tales

One of my regrets from my time here is not writing down enough stuff. More specifically, priceless conversations and interactions with random people. Many of these happen daily at work or at my hotel, but the bulk happen with the person I spend the most time with, Shyam.

 Shyam has been my driver since my first day in India. But I feel that calling him my driver is selling him short. He is also my tour guide, my news source, my gossip source, my advisor, always knows where to go to get what I need, my errand runner, designated driver, and my friend. Sometimes he knows where I’m going (like to dinner or a concert or something) even before I do via the expat chain of communication. He is wildly underpaid considering all he does for me. He knows all of the secret roads and ways to get places faster than anyone else, he’ll drive to 5 different liquor stores looking for Old Monk in the Monk bottle for me (and place special orders when they don’t have it), he’s helped me barter prices so I don’t get taken advantage of, and so many more things.



My driver Shyam and I after a night at Romanos!  Getting Indians to smile for a picture is a monumental task. So I won't complain too much that he isn't looking at the camera.

 I was shocked and a little bit humbled when I learned a while after I got here that his day basically revolves around me. He’s up well before me to drive into his office, pick up the car, and be at my apartment to pick me up for work. During the day, he sits in a hot, smelly, stuffy parking garage with the other drivers playing cards or chess and probably talking about the crazy things his American says, waiting for me to call to say it’s time to go home. If I work late, that means he works later. If I want a night out at Romanos, he doesn't get home until after midnight. If I need to run errands on a weekend, that means he’s working. So I will forever be grateful to Shyam for all that he’s done for me during my time here.

He is also a source of entertainment with the stories he tells, which aren’t anything special to him, but often times make my day. Things that are common occurrences to him fascinate me. And I’m sure some of the stories I tell are tough for him to fathom as well. That's all part of the major clash in cultures between "middle class" Indians (as being a driver for an American expat is considered a pretty good job here) and middle class Americans.

For example, he had requested the day off on Monday to attend a wedding, which I happily allowed. He was going to send a substitute driver. When he showed up on Monday, this was our conversation:

Me: Shyam, why aren’t you at the wedding?

Shyam: Wedding was postponed, sir.

Me: Why?

Shyam: Groom was bitten by a snake, sir.

Me: Holy cow, what kind of snake was it?

Shyam: King Cobra sir. [said very nonchalantly, like it’s an every day occurrence]

Me: Wow! Are you serious? Is he ok? 

Shyam: Oh yes, sir. They cut his arm open and put stones on the wound and wrapped it in herbal leaves. [it took me awhile to understand what he was saying here...I'm not expert but this doesn't seem like a fruitful treatment for a cobra bite.]

Me: And that’s enough to cure a king cobra bite?

Shyam: Yes, although when they sliced open his arm, they cut a nerve. So then he had to go to the hospital.  

Me: That sounds awful, and very painful.

Shyam: Yes, sir. Wedding is back on next week.

Another favorite of mine, I didn’t experience, but was emailed to me by a co-worker whose friend had this conversation with his driver while in India:

It started when I saw a cow walking down the road turn to eat what appeared to be garbage.  It went something like this.

Me: Is that a cow?

Yomesh: Of course, cow.

M: What's it eating?

Y: Food, cows have to eat. [It appears to be eating trash, but I drop it.]

M: Well whose cow is it?

Y: Somebody's.  It eats.

M: Well how do you know whose cow it is?

Y: It will go home at 5:30.

M: At 5:30?

Y: Of course, that's when cows go home.

M: How does it know where to go?

Y: It goes back the way it came.

M: But did the owner just let it out?

Y: Of course, how else would it eat?

M: Where do they go to eat?

Y: Each cow goes to its place to eat.  Then it sleeps.  Then it's 5:30 and it goes home.

[Note that I'm traveling to the hotel at about 5:15]

M: So is this cow going home?

Y: Of course, it's almost 5:30.  That's why traffic is bad.  Cows have to go home.  Unless it gets a ticket.

M: A ticket?

Y: Of course.  If it stops in road, the cow gets a ticket.

M: Who pays the ticket?

Y: The cow's owner of course.  They have to pay the ticket to get their cow back from police.

M: So the police take the cow?

Y: Of course.  After they give ticket.

M: Like towing a car? [I can't imagine I have this right.]

Y: Exactly.  But my cow doesn't get ticket.  He is already home.

M: You have a cow?

Y: Of course, how else would I have milk?  My cow is already home though.  He goes home at 5:00 and gives 2 liters.  Do you have a cow Mr. John?

M: No. [I am trying hard not to laugh]

Y: Well how do you get milk? [I've never thought much about this]

M: We have dairy farms.  Many cows give milk at once and trucks deliver it to stores.

Y: Wow.  That's awful.  Traffic must be awful by your dairy farms.



Apparently three cows have dibs on this trash pile. Who wouldn't want to drink their milk?



There have been countless stories like this that I should have been writing down. If I had the other expats write down their stories as well, we would have the makings of an awesome book that would give its readers a stunningly accurate and humorous look into the Indian culture in an awesome format: Indian natives who know the “real India” , not the India shown to you on TV, better than anyone, trying to explain that life to American businessmen.

Jayme's driver, Hari, has grown to love American music. There is a station in Bangalore that plays mostly American pop music, and most of that is from the 90'sand early 2000's. It really is a trip down memory lane any time you turn that station on. Apparently Hari really gets into the music, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and drumming to the beat. He is always proud when he can identify a Bryan Adams song, always alerting Jayme with a "Sir. Bryan Adams sir." (I think I've spoken before about India's obsession with Bryan Adams. It's amazing.) Lately Hari has even been identifying different instruments. Recently, while playing a Tom Petty CD for the 200th time, Hari spoke up with a, "Sir. Bass Guitar Sir." Always proud of being able to connect with Jayme and Andrea and their American music roots. I asked Hari who his favorite American artist was the other day, and I was surprised to hear him say, "The Jacaksons, sir". "Like Michael and Janet?" "Yes, sir. Also like Lionel Ritchie and Kenny G. I like to take the drink and night and listen to Kenny G." Who doesn't?

The other day while driving home, Shyam started laughing uncontrollably. I asked him what was so funny, and he said that about 10 years ago he went to this company that if you sign up and pay a nominal fee, they will find you a wife. So he had signed up, but never heard back on a match (I’m unsure what the criteria is for matchmaking.) In the meantime, his parents had arranged his marriage themselves, and he has been married for 8 or 9 years with two kids. So the other day, he got an SMS (that’s what they call texting) from the company from 10 years ago saying they had found him a wife. He thought this was hilarious. I jokingly said he should go check her out to see if she was an upgrade, and I don’t think he thought that was very funny. I think we still have some work to do on understanding my sarcasm.

I have explained before about Shyam's skill of getting where we need to go rather quickly. Since I have gotten used to the car rides, and used to the speed at which we gets there, I have learned to appreciate this "skill". Well, it does come with its risks as well. Last week after a team volunteer event I rode with Jayme and Hari to our "happy hours" afterwards, while I sent Shyam back to the office to drop off some of my co-workers. Hari is more of a careful driver, so in no time Shyam had left us in the dust. About 15 minutes later, Hari points out "Ah, speed trap sir," as he had noticed some cop cars ahead. Sure enough, as we got closer, I recognized my car's license plate. There was Shyam outside the car, arguing with the cop. I couldn't help but laugh. And even though Hari and Shyam are friends, I think Hari got some satisfaction out of it as well. As we drove by, Hari said "10 years with no tickets, sir." I asked Shyam about it the next day, and he laughed and said, "Yes, I had to pay 300 rupees (less than $6). Very high fee! I tried to bribe him with first 100 rupees and then 200 rupees, but he said they have installed cameras now so the cops can no longer accept bribes. I couldn't believe it! Then I tried to tell him that I had very important people in the car, and that I didn't want to be shamed by getting a ticket. None of it worked! Honest cop. "

If I’m ever back in India for a long period of time (God forbid), I will always carry two things with me in the car at all times. A camera and pen and paper (I guess that’s technically three things). A couple times a week I wish I had my camera on my drive home as we always pass something that I wish I had a picture of. Sometimes they must think we are idiots for asking the questions that we ask. Sometimes I’ll ask Shyam to pull over so I can take a picture of something, like a storefront or a sign I find humorous (as in the picture below).  It’s so fascinating as to what they find normal and we find extraordinary, and vice versa.

This is genius marketing. If you are going to buy your fruits and vegetables somewhere, might as well buy them from Infant Jesus! It makes me want to open "Infant Jesus Bar & Grill" when I get home, just to see if the marketing translates.

I'll always remember my time in my car with Shyam as some of the entertaining and educational times I had while in India.

The White Mischief

I feel like I need to apologize in my very first sentence. I’m sure maybe some of you thought that maybe “The White Mischief” was a nickname I had acquired here, and that there would be some cool story about how I got the name.

Nope. Sorry to disappoint. But I couldn’t help but to adorn this post with the title. I’ll tie it in somewhere in this post, I promise.

This post won’t be about cow tipping (which is probably punishable by death), or stealing a tuk tuk and taking it for a lap around the block, or something similar that could earn me such a nickname. Rather, it will be about my first experience with India’s national pastime, cricket.



Enjoying my first cricket match in my newly purchased cricket jersey!



It’s hard to describe the actual game of cricket itself. I suppose its closest relative that I’m aware of would be baseball. Basically there is a bowler (very similar to a pitcher) who bowls (pitches) the ball towards the batsman (batter) and tries to either get it past him and hit the wicket behind him, or get him to hit the ball in the air so that one of the fielders can catch it. Until that happens, the batsman just keeps hitting. That’s not a very thorough description of the game, but it’s as good as I can do without making this another 4000 word post. The batsmen protects the wicket by hitting the ball, and he gets a certain amount of points when he does hit it. 6 points if it goes out of the playing field in the air (similar to a home run), and 4 points if it rolls off the playing field. If the ball is kept in play by the fielders, the batsman runs from wicket to wicket (scoring 1 point for each length) until he doesn’t think he can make it another length before the fielders get the ball back in and hits the wicket before the batsman touches the line.



As opposed to the non-strategic timeouts?

Confused? Thought so. Me too. It took me an afternoon of watching cricket on TV (which isn’t hard to find, as there are 4 channels devoted to it) while reading the rules on Wikipedia to even begin to understand it. For a better short description of the sport than I just gave, read THIS DESCRIPTION. Much more helpful.

Nothing capped off the experience like watching the match in blue lawn chairs.



Cricket fans are crazy. I went to the game with Jayme’s team from work. I work with many of the people daily, some of whom are very quiet. Well, get them to a cricket match and that changes quickly. They go absolutely ballistic. And unlike baseball or football, proportionately there is a lot to cheer about in cricket. Every time someone hits a 6, the crowd goes absolutely berserk. All sorts of noise makers going off and flags being waved in your face.



Jayme isn't nearly excited enough. Could he be mesmerized by the White Mischief?

The game we were at was particularly entertaining. After 4 hours of playing, it came down to the last at-bat. Note: There are several different lengths of cricket matches. “Test Matches” which this was, last about 4 hours. Those are the shortest games. Real cricket matches can last an entire day…..     The Bangalore Royal Challengers (named after a whiskey, of course) were batting last, and had stormed back from a pretty healthy defecit, but our star batter Chris Gayle had hit several 6’s to pull us back into striking distance. After he was retired, it seemed like we didn’t have much hope. But our next couple of batters hit well enough to give us a chance at the end. With one last pitch left, we needed a 6 to win. And sure enough, the batter sent the ball sailing out of the playing field into the stands. Absolute chaos ensued. One of my co-workers who I had heard speak about 2 times in my life gave me a huge bear hug in celebration. I even got caught up in the celebration! It was the equivalent to hitting a walk off grand slam in baseball.

Now to explain the title of my post. The White Mischief is the name of the cheerleading squad for the RC’s. The cheerleaders are mostly Caucasian, and dressed more scandalously that you would ever see anyone else in India dressed. I’m not sure if this is racist or not….I’m assuming probably so….but whatever. Not sure that you could get away with anything like this anywhere other than India. It’s interesting that in such a conservative culture that they can get away with something like this without any sort of major backlash. But I guess it’s pretty much a side show. They are treated somewhat like zoo animals, as all the Indian men crowd around the fence that separates the cheerleaders from the stands trying to catch a close glimpse and get a picture on their cameras.

Mischevious indeed....



Commonplace in the US, not so much in India.



Interestingly enough, the visiting Pune Warriors team had Indian cheerleaders dressed in traditional sarees…..

This would be considered normal and acceptable in India.

Doing some more research, White Mischief is also the name of a vodka made by the UB Group, who owns the team (and UB City where I live, and Kingfisher airlines, and Kingfisher beer, just to name a few). But still. Can you imagine if a team in the US had all Indian cheerleaders and called them the Brown Mischief, or the Curry Crusaders, or the Stray Dogs? Just another paradox that is the country of India I guess.

It was cool to see the sport that is so important to the country up close and personal. I don’t think I could ever own season tickets…as the matches are too damn long, but I would highly recommend going to one if you are ever in India during cricket season. It also made me miss American sports, and going to Target Field on a summer night to watch the Royals beat the Twins (or anyone else beat the Twins for that matter, not a rare occurrence). As much as I miss baseball, I also miss ballpark food. I definitely would have rather had a nice bratwurst and a cold beer over the very questionable looking curry and rice buffet.

All in all, it was a great experience, and was another activity I got to cross off of my India bucket list.