Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

This is a little different than Sunday morning in Nashville.  I didn't reach for my "cleanest dirty shirt" because my housekeeper has kept up with the laundry.  The streets were quiet and peaceful and the morning sun gave the scene a nice glow.  Hardly a Sunday morning goes by that I don't think about the lyrics of that song.  In a good way.  The panorama is sunrise from the balcony of my flat.  It felt like a good time for a short walk in the "hood" to snap some pix and share it with you.

These guys are the gate guards, they guard the gate from the outside.  The real guards won't let them inside the compound.  Unfair don't you think?

This is the street the dogs are guarding, looking sort of north east from the entry gate.  I didn't focus on it but there is trash everywhere.  There is not the discipline in sanitation that we are accoustomed to.  According to what I read there is a large contingent in the middle class that would like to see that change.  It is not a state of affairs that most Indians are happy about.  There are several ingredients that consprire to bring this about.  The one most publicized deals with the pervasive corruption in politics here.

This is the neighborhood council.  They are getting ready to convene and set the agenda for the day.  From this photo it should be evident who the alderman is.  These guys are always on duty.  They forage in the trash piles and sleep on the sidewalks.  They have their occasional disputes but for the most part they are quite docile.  They never show any interest in passersby. 

This is the peanut gallery.  If they disrupt the meeting they will be in big trouble.  In fact, just after I snapped this these guys ran right into the middle of the gathering and got a fierce snarling from the alderman.

I am fascinated by these two scenes.  This is directly across the street from the entrance to my compound.  It's a farm; maybe 10 acres.  There are about a half a dozen dairy cattle that graze in this little pasture.  All this is virtually in the center of a city of 6.5 million.  My friend, Vish, commented on this.  He believes there is a land dispute.   No doubt there is given what this little pasture worth.  I am told that here in India there is a strong farm lobby.  This would suggest it.

The farm I described it right behind me as I snap this photo of the entrance to my compound.

This is a snap of the building where I live, taken from the street.  The gate guards are just to the right.  My flat is just below the tree line.  I am looking at the easterly end of the building.  All of the flats run throught the building so that there are balconies on each end.  There are two flats on each floor. 

I am starting to get settled.  There are still a few things that require adjustment.   The sanitation issue I mentioned is one.  The other is the level of bureaucray and heirarchy that inserts itself into everything.  I opened an account in a local bank this week.  Passport, residence permit, visa.  I had copies of all these docs but the bank clerk had to see each original and take her own copy.  She could not accept my copy.  She took her own and I had to sign each copy in black ink.  I would have thought blue ink would have made the bureaucratic redundancy more effective but the suggestion box was no where in sight.  The only address that could appear on my account was the address on the residence permit.  In my case it was the Taj hotel where I was staying while my flat was being readied.  The compromise was to list my work address on the account which also appeared on the permit.  In order to have the address where I live listed on my account and I presume on my checks, I must have the residency permit ammended.  That will require a call to the law firm here in Bangalore that has been assigned my immigration case.  No doubt additional fees will be charged and another trip down the the FRRO could be in my future if I want this corrected.  I have managed to remain calm for all these dealings.  There have been a couple of times when composure has required some concentration.

The traffic here is amazing.  Like a lot of things here in India what appears on the outside to be utter chaos is actually quite organized after you watch for awhile.  There are rules albeit informal ones.  The formal ones are largely ignored.  The basic dance steps are the "barge and yeild"  followed by the "drift and merge".  All this executed with utmost precision, with the absence of any road rage and done in the framework of "what pedestrians?"  I have mentioned this earlier but it took me awhile to learn to cross the street.  Actually I am still learning.  The most effective strategy is to blend with a group of Indians and cross with them.  It is largely a game of chicken.  So far I haven't lost any feathers.  Probablly the most effective safety factor is applied to all this by virtue of the fact that since the traffic is so dense, nobody can drive very fast.

Cattle graze in the traffic here.  Every conceivable mode of transport joins the production.  Cars, trucks, two-wheelers, three-wheelers, bicycles, pushed carts, ox carts and horse-drawn carts.  Even the occasional emergency vehicle.  I am still discovering what can actually be transported on a two-wheeler.  Amazing stufff piled six feet hign and somehow secured to the back seat.  Three, four and I have even seen five folks on a motorcylce.  Dad driving, mom on the back side saddle in her sari and three kiddos stuffed in the open spaces.  The only one with a helmet is Dad who is driving.  The other morning I saw a two wheeler coming the other way.  Dad was holding his seven-year-old daughter in front.  She was probablly standing on the scooter in front of her dad.  The wind was in her face and she was covering her eyes with her hands.  That scene tugged at my heart strings.  I should add that the wind in your face here is not like the wind in your face in Western Kansas or in the Ozarks.  Here is full of dust particles.  So dense at times it looks like a fog and folks wearing dust masks is a common sight.  She should have had one.

This afternoon I am going to the "club" to hang out with Dr. Vish and his friends.  I am looking forward to this.  It should be interesting.