On Sunday I went with some
friends to a crafts fair in Bangalore. There was four of us, and one of
the girls we were with managed to find us a driver. His van looked
ancient, and I sat in the front passenger seat, where I had to lean
forward as the recline mechanism on my seat was broken, so if I leant
back I'd crush Maceik! (who was sat behind me) This really made me think
about the standards of not just transport in India, but everything, and
how in the west we really fail to appreicate the flash new cars we can
afford and the expectations we have of transport services.
The driver told us that if he
could take us to two shops on the way, he would be given two free
t-shirts for his kids, so as we were in no hurry we were happy to help
him out. The shops were interesting, with many beautiful ornate items
with influences from all over India. None of us bought anything, but we
had helped the guy get his t-shirts nonetheless. After leaving the
shops, on a busy road his van's engine cut out. He looked so dismayed,
and a little worried, but we told him not to worry and he called us an
auto rickshaw to take us the rest of the way, and he wouldn't accept any
money off us for getting us most of the way there. I really felt sorry
for that man, he was genuinely very warm and helpful.
We eventually arrived at the
craft fair, with the auto rickshaw price less than the original price
the taxi driver had asked us for. The fair had some astounding carvings,
many bangles, jewellery, ornaments and such. Many of the items we saw
were identical to ones we had previously seen in the two shops we had
visited on the way there, but at half the price. The stalls kind of
reminded me of an English craft fair, proving that crafts are quite a
universal affair (in case that wasn't already apparent to you). The fair
turned out smaller than we had expected, so we decided to spend the
rest of the afternoon in a huge park (about the size of London's Hyde
Park) in the centre of Bangalore called Cubbon Park. The park is
adjacent to the Karnataka Court House; an impressive orange stone
building, and faces the majestic Parliament of Karnataka buildings;
which are a pair of stunning white stone giants, reminiscent of the Taj
Mahal.
We found a gorgeous gardens
in the middle of the park to sit in, which really reminded me of the
imagery in Rudyard Kipling's the Jungle Book. There were trees with
colours so vivid they looked like paintings, and huge vines hanging down
from a centre piece of the garden called a “rain tree” [Google it –
they're huge!]
An Indian man called Ragu
(like the pasta sauce) introduced himself to me, and told me how the
vines were so strong, and said I should swing like Tarzan and test them
out. Not one to back down from a challenge, I had a go, and as soon as I
let the vine take my weight we all heard a loud “crack” sound at the
top of the vine, and I quickly let go! We all laughed at the mishap and I
shook Ragu's hand in fits of laughter, at how he had tricked me.
Fifteen or so minutes later a huge thud was heard, and when we looked
around the heavy vine had fallen, landing about 12 inches from where
Ragu was sitting! This resulted in more laughter, and made me think that
many Indians have as good a sense of humour as we do.
That night we realised we do
in fact have ESPN on our TV at home, and didn't need to go out every
night to watch the game (but we did anyway!)
Bye for now!