Here I am in Mysore, India. It is 8:22pm and the mosquitoes are biting. I'm trying hard to think of what has happened since I boarded the plane from New York on Friday, but it has all turned into a dazed blur of me shuffling from one place to the next and sitting. A lot of sitting.
On sitting waiting at airports:
Delta at JFK has really unfriendly waiting areas. First of all, I was at the international departures. To me, it makes sense that people leaving on international flights might have international size send-offs from friends and family in a comfortable waiting area. Instead, passengers are shuffled through check-in lines and security with no time or place for a proper goodbye.
On sitting waiting on planes:
The Delta flight was reasonably comfortable. It was clean with a wide range of movies to choose from. The food wasn't bad at all either. I think it was catered by Jyothi (the people who make the canned indian food). I was half looking forward to burying myself in the pseudo-horror book I bought at the airport, but they turned the lights off pretty quickly. I ended up watching way too many movies.
"The Lives of Others" Spying in East Germany on other East Germans. German with subtitles. Kind of hard to get into the plot of a movie with subtitles with those ridiculous headphones they give you on the plane. But at least they were free.
"Zodiac" I waited to watch this one after I had woken up from my first bout of "sleep", when the cabin was really dark and quiet. I was hoping it would make it creepier. The only thing creepy was that Jake Gyllenhal's character didn't age a day between 1967 and 1989.
"The Namesake" This was the second time I watched this movie and it seems to get me every time. Young love, families, losing a parent when you're young, losing a husband, reconnecting with your heritage-- lots of stuff to jerk those tears. And the bits that are filmed in India really do look like India. Except it isn't nearly as hot here as it seemed in the movie.
On what to do instead of sitting waiting in airports:
I had an 8 hour lay-over between Mumbai and Bangalore so I took a taxi to a hotel to get some zzzz's. Not as simple as it sounds. First of all, there were no ATM's in the international airport (thanks Jim* for making me bring cash). There was a cash changing place though, so that's what I did. Then I saw a stand for pre-paid taxis, which sounded like something I should use since I barely new what I was doing. I paid for a ride to the Sheraton, but the lady behind the counter was less than confidence inspiring. She gave me a ticket and said "look for this number". So I proceeded toward the exit sign, where I saw dozens of Indian men holding signs with people's names, but not one taxi. Not even a sign that said taxi. Foreign Travel 101: know what local taxis look like. Seems simple, but I asked some other people on the flight with me who were Indian if they knew where their taxis were, but they were just as confused as me. Random men would shout "taxi" and point saying "over there, over there!" As they pointed to the crowded, dark parking lot. In fact, they really were "over there". I found my guy and gave him the ticket the lady at the counter gave me. He looked at it, looked at me and said "where you go?" It definitely said "Sheraton" on the ticket. He opened the car door, let me in, and then went for a walk. He came back 5 minutes later and off we went. About 2 minutes later we pulled into the Las Vegas strip of tourist hotels featuring the Hyatt, etc., amidst shacks, rickshaws, stray dogs, and old men urinating. To the left was this massive, crazy luxurious hotel, which turned out to be the Sheraton. I paid a ridiculous amount for 4 hours of sleep in a super lush, dream hotel room, and a bag full of toiletries that I hadn't packed in New York.
On sitting in cars:
I arrived on Saturday at about 8:30am and was relieved to find that I was greeted with a driver sent from the bed and breakfast I had booked. It was about a 3-hour drive to Mysore with me sitting in the backseat swatting at flies, holding back the contents of my bladder and watching the people, places, and interesting traffic philosophies from Bangalore to Mysore.
By noon I was at my bed and breakfast sitting on the terrace overlooking Mysore eating a delicious fresh fruit salad feeling incredibly hungover. On the right is a picture of my room.
The rest of the day involved meeting up with friends, learning the neighborhood, and trying desperately to keep myself awake until a good time to go to sleep in order to adjust to mysore time.
I went by AYRI today and Sharath told me to come back tomorrow to register at 9am even though they are supposed to be closed. Awesome.
No practice today because it's a moonday. No practice tomorrow as well at AYRI.
Oh and for dinner, Shari, Stella, and I were segregated 
from the men at a restaurant to a "women only" section labeled "only families" (see left). Not soon after embarking on the meal, we were running out as the staff "fumigated" the restaurant for mosquitoes. (Burning coals in a pan with deet poured over it as they fan the open flame around the restaurant. The smell was a mixture between burning plastic table covers and burning plastic table covers soaked in deet.) On the right is a picture of the waiter chasing after us and trying to coax us back into the restaurant.
*Names changed.
On sitting waiting at airports:
Delta at JFK has really unfriendly waiting areas. First of all, I was at the international departures. To me, it makes sense that people leaving on international flights might have international size send-offs from friends and family in a comfortable waiting area. Instead, passengers are shuffled through check-in lines and security with no time or place for a proper goodbye.
On sitting waiting on planes:
The Delta flight was reasonably comfortable. It was clean with a wide range of movies to choose from. The food wasn't bad at all either. I think it was catered by Jyothi (the people who make the canned indian food). I was half looking forward to burying myself in the pseudo-horror book I bought at the airport, but they turned the lights off pretty quickly. I ended up watching way too many movies.
"The Lives of Others" Spying in East Germany on other East Germans. German with subtitles. Kind of hard to get into the plot of a movie with subtitles with those ridiculous headphones they give you on the plane. But at least they were free.
"Zodiac" I waited to watch this one after I had woken up from my first bout of "sleep", when the cabin was really dark and quiet. I was hoping it would make it creepier. The only thing creepy was that Jake Gyllenhal's character didn't age a day between 1967 and 1989.
"The Namesake" This was the second time I watched this movie and it seems to get me every time. Young love, families, losing a parent when you're young, losing a husband, reconnecting with your heritage-- lots of stuff to jerk those tears. And the bits that are filmed in India really do look like India. Except it isn't nearly as hot here as it seemed in the movie.
On what to do instead of sitting waiting in airports:
I had an 8 hour lay-over between Mumbai and Bangalore so I took a taxi to a hotel to get some zzzz's. Not as simple as it sounds. First of all, there were no ATM's in the international airport (thanks Jim* for making me bring cash). There was a cash changing place though, so that's what I did. Then I saw a stand for pre-paid taxis, which sounded like something I should use since I barely new what I was doing. I paid for a ride to the Sheraton, but the lady behind the counter was less than confidence inspiring. She gave me a ticket and said "look for this number". So I proceeded toward the exit sign, where I saw dozens of Indian men holding signs with people's names, but not one taxi. Not even a sign that said taxi. Foreign Travel 101: know what local taxis look like. Seems simple, but I asked some other people on the flight with me who were Indian if they knew where their taxis were, but they were just as confused as me. Random men would shout "taxi" and point saying "over there, over there!" As they pointed to the crowded, dark parking lot. In fact, they really were "over there". I found my guy and gave him the ticket the lady at the counter gave me. He looked at it, looked at me and said "where you go?" It definitely said "Sheraton" on the ticket. He opened the car door, let me in, and then went for a walk. He came back 5 minutes later and off we went. About 2 minutes later we pulled into the Las Vegas strip of tourist hotels featuring the Hyatt, etc., amidst shacks, rickshaws, stray dogs, and old men urinating. To the left was this massive, crazy luxurious hotel, which turned out to be the Sheraton. I paid a ridiculous amount for 4 hours of sleep in a super lush, dream hotel room, and a bag full of toiletries that I hadn't packed in New York.
On sitting in cars:
I arrived on Saturday at about 8:30am and was relieved to find that I was greeted with a driver sent from the bed and breakfast I had booked. It was about a 3-hour drive to Mysore with me sitting in the backseat swatting at flies, holding back the contents of my bladder and watching the people, places, and interesting traffic philosophies from Bangalore to Mysore.
By noon I was at my bed and breakfast sitting on the terrace overlooking Mysore eating a delicious fresh fruit salad feeling incredibly hungover. On the right is a picture of my room.
The rest of the day involved meeting up with friends, learning the neighborhood, and trying desperately to keep myself awake until a good time to go to sleep in order to adjust to mysore time.
I went by AYRI today and Sharath told me to come back tomorrow to register at 9am even though they are supposed to be closed. Awesome.
No practice today because it's a moonday. No practice tomorrow as well at AYRI.
Oh and for dinner, Shari, Stella, and I were segregated 
from the men at a restaurant to a "women only" section labeled "only families" (see left). Not soon after embarking on the meal, we were running out as the staff "fumigated" the restaurant for mosquitoes. (Burning coals in a pan with deet poured over it as they fan the open flame around the restaurant. The smell was a mixture between burning plastic table covers and burning plastic table covers soaked in deet.) On the right is a picture of the waiter chasing after us and trying to coax us back into the restaurant.*Names changed.
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