An alternate universe


Advertisement
India's flag
Asia » India » Karnataka » Hampi
January 3rd 2001
Published: November 26th 2007
Edit Blog Post

Mike said once, "I love India! But the Indians drive me crazy." I see evidence now that it's a culture in which the sense of ethetics, etiquette and procedure is remarkably opposite to mine. The in-your-face sales pitches, the ubiquitous pick-up lines from men on the street, the crowding of the only other people in the whole room (bus, table), the blowing of noses on to the ground in public (men and women both) the seemingly reckless disregard for the lives of other people and animals, the probing personal questions from strangers - aargh! A guy named Doug in Arusha told me, "There's nothing you can say about India that the exact opposite won't also be true." I believe it.


Finally getting our fill of Colva, we started on the next leg of our adventure. We arranged a rickshaw to bring us to the 7:20am train to Hospet. The train station was a dirty and chaotic place where people slept all over the outdoor platforms. The ride was many shades of green: palm trees, banana plants and the bright snappy rice patches. We met a mixed bunch of travellers on the train, including Theo the quiet Swiss guy, Ralph the exuberant if not a little insane North German and Dan, a talkative and very politically opinionated Canadian.


Six of us, our packs and another passenger shared a rickshaw to Hampi and we spend the days here: 1. collecting in the rooftop cafe above our hotel or in the Riverview cafe hammocks to smoke, eat veg food or order the occasional illegal BEER! and 2. exploring the many temples in the Mars-like terrain of boulders.


The temples are empty, silent, dark and dirty. I feel like I have to be very quiet or the giant slabs of granite that make up the aged and unsteady roofs might fall on top of me. I'm sure they were plastered and painted to be very festive at one point but now they're grim, mysterious evidence of unknowable residents. Although, I can't say the current residents aren't equally as mysterious to me.


We explored long-deserted temples that are actually walled-in towns built in granite (everywhere you look, it's available.) I tried to imagine them as lively places but they're silent and incomplete without people, animals, the general madness. A few more little temples and bas-reliefs and we happened upon a deserted spot where it LOOKED like someone was buried but not very well and recently, too! After deliberation, we decided to tell the police. We showed them the spot and they said, "Oh, yes, we know. He drank dangerous alcohol and died. We examined him and just buried him here." Yikes! They did a shoddy job, too. The examiner's rubber gloves were strewn around as thoughtlessly as the poor guy was dusted with dirt and held down by rocks!


Well, we did the right thing, I'm glad of that. And my worse fears of being detained, accused or fleeced were never realized. Now we're reading, eating and smoking overlooking the river, sitting barefoot on bamboo mats and swinging in the colorful hammocks at the Riverview Garden. We met up with Ralph and Magnus, the Swedish physics major and resident chess champ. Time to plan our next move soon....


Recipe Notes:

Biryani rice: curry, cinnamon sticks, cloves, garlic, cardemum, veggies, lentils, nuts. Mmmmmm.....


Lassi: yogurt, milk, sugar, fruit, bhang (optional)


Raita: large curd, tomato, onion, parsley, cukes

Advertisement



Tot: 0.111s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 11; qc: 49; dbt: 0.0706s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1; ; mem: 1.1mb