The attraction of Crazy Beasties!

In December 1995 I went camping in Baja, California with two guys. Well, really, it was with Steve, and we corralled another guy into going with us to be an official chaperone.* Anyway, one thing we had to do before embarking was procure a means of transport to get us from San Francisco allllll the way down to the tip: Cabo San Lucas.

Steve - who grew up on a farm fixing cars - settled on a 1975 Chevy Blazer, with great joy because he got to work on it a lot before we left. And a lot during our trip. This labor - and these images - will all help you grasp why it soon became lovingly known to us as The Beast: it was The Beast's very ugliness and unwieldiness that made her so attractive and beloved to us.

Lest you think I exaggerate, you should know that we nearly died in The Beast on one climactic night when Steve and our chaperone got into an altercation. When the argument subsided, we continued down the dicey Mexican "highway" in quiet tension, leading us to nearly snap when an unruly truck careened at us in the opposite direction, leaving us no recourse but to veer off the road. The drama made us appreciate our hobbling, graceless Beast (which somehow kept us whole) on an entirely new level. When I was charged with driving Her home after Steve had to fly back for a business meeting, my love grew all the more as she yawed the entire way back up the 101 (I say this now, of course...15 years later and indelibly marked by Her image every time I in fact hear or use the word "yaw").

To this day, the ugly, unwieldy and beastly still hold a crazy kind of pull for me. Is it because I so want to redeem the beauty that I insist simply *must* lie within...some sort of savior complex?

I dunno. But I still love beasts. Lord help me!

My latest Beast spotting tonight in the Mission: isn't she just *beautiful*??

* this had its own unfortunate end that requires a whole other side story...ahh, if only we blogged back then...

The Divine Vida

What if Dante Alighieri had chosen to write Cantos of Heaven instead of Hell?

"You will not need any money for the next two days." -- Tia Dora's first words to me after we disembarked from the ferry to dine an the 'getaway isle' of Itaparica, Day 2 of trip.

"La vida dura." -- summary of life with the Lillios Brasilian clan which consists the above, along with a run on the beach, a dip in the bathwater ocean located about 1/4 a mile away from the house, naps in the hammock, churrascado grilled meat off the skewer, mouth-watering fresh mangoes gathered from the yard, and other freshly-made cuisine at our disposal on an ongoing basis.

"We have 5 computers for 4 people." -- Paulo, walking us through his swank urban Rio 4-bedroom pad left at the disposal of Tony and myself after he treated us to inordinate amounts of Brasilian beef and laughter before whisking out of town to be with his family.

These increasingly intense Cantos of Heaven scratch the surface of Brazil, December 2008.

Brasil, Dec 2008: Pelo to Itaparica

yah, whatever.....

Could the Taj really be the rave that everyone says it is? It is exquisite beyond measure - in its scale and PRESENCE. It's hard to describe or capture in words or photo. Ya have to go if you are fortunate enough to have the chance. We arose at 5:30am in order to see the rising sun make the marble gleam that just-so-yellowish tinge, and I'm glad we did! (yeah, ME!)

talk about beachball stripes

At work we have a framework for communication that involves getting a diversity of opinions / points of view -- the analogy being that "every stripe on the beachball" should be represented.

This trip has provided an incredible array of beachball stripes. It started with corporate IT India in Hyderabad & Bangalore....engaging with the westernized, progressive, educated India we so often engage with in the States. It migrated to the rural and working class India in our exploits in rural Rajasthan....the hotel attendants, the people who take care of the camels, the bathroom attendants, Asif our driver and his family, and the myriad of people we see on the streets. We also saw a rising wealth in the home of the tour agency owner, Anil. Then in Delhi we've seen the Gupta home, B9 and the exquisite shops and life in Haus Khas village - and learned what that entails from a social perspective as well through Anna's stories about Amit's upbringing at Dune School and such.

I'm sure I'm forgetting many more stripes too....

Time with Anna!

What a blessing to be able to see Anna (and Sam!) here...in India! Having coffee at Barista or dinner at Ploof transports us all from the rough, relentless harshness of life here to a "metro-anywhere" feeling - we could be anywhere in the world (and not Delhi ;). It's so wonderful to be able to see Anna doing some of her favorite things: having coffee, eating chocolate cake, buying shoes, or dressing us up in Saris. It's so hard to imagine that bright flashy smile not coming out as it does so often when we live in SF; I'm glad it is coming out this week. What a treat!

(it's still weird to be shooting the breeze withher & Sam in Choko La, the yummy cafe in Basant Lok, and look around & see women in Sari's and remember, "hey, we're in India!")

Purism's for the birds

As you probably know, I'm not a real pharma, drug kinda gal. But can I just hear some hallelujahs for whoever invented Cipro? If you haven't traveled to a developing country, let's just say that Cipro and the like are indispensible for those of us lucky enough to get the "traveler's friend" while partaking in the local cuisine.

Hallelujah for Cipro!

they say India is a land of contrasts....

...and we saw one that won't read in the guidebooks. It was the contrast between dinner at Anil's home (Anil is the owner of the tour agency we used), and the dinner at the home of our fearless and faithful driver, Asif.

When Asif extended us an invitation we were surprised, as we suspected he was a man of very simple means (an assumption proven to be true). Then Anil called to extend his invitation to us too (we were feeling quite popular). Not wishing to offend his boss, Asif asked us what we wanted to do. We wanted to go to Asif's, and we also wanted to honor Anil's request...so we did both. Dinner, Part One was held at Anil's gated home on the outskirts of Jaipur. The exchange was cordial, the food (as always) tasty, and the ambiance....a bit stiff. It was 10pm by the time we made it back into the Old City center for Dinner, Part Two at Asif's home. There, we were met by his two boys, Sajid (16) and Samer (13) and his smiling, petite, beautiful wife Zarin (which Asif proudly told us means "shining" in Arabic). She had handmade us rotis, a chicken curry for Sue and a veg paneer for me.

The entire time, Zarin and Asif giggled with one another, and I was taken aback by the wink Samer slipped in to me when nobody was looking (I concluded that "Samer" must translate into "rascal" ;). The joy and warmth emanated so richly from this SINGLE room (no bathroom, let alone working kitchen) that the power outage and stench from the animals in the street faded to the background. How many proverbs talk about how it is better to be with little and have peace in the home, than have much and strife? Asif is a blessed man.

Asif - the modern-day Joseph

Lately at work I've been confronted by just how self-absorbed I am and how far I am from being a true servant to those around me. I've prayed to become more like a Daniel or a Joseph, who both served so extraordinarily well in their adverse circumstances.

Here in India, we have been blessed to meet a real, live, present-day Joseph in the form of a modest, Muslim car driver named Asif. Both Sue and I admitted to being a bit unnerved by his formidable photo the tour agency sent to us, but the moment we entered the airport gate, his sweet, welcoming smile made us feel the kind of safety that endured throughout our many miles with him. He was always always always so quick to anticipate our every need, from getting water for us, to opening the door, to being ready on the drop of a dime to get us, even when it meant waiting outside in the cruel heat for us to return to the car. Always with a smile and a cute head bob and a "yes, m'um." Always quick and anticipatory in his serving, with the biggest heart you can imagine. Combined with eyes like a hawk that scowled down any form of harassment from "without" our automobile enclave. I truly cried the day before we parted. A true, modern-day Joseph who I hope will be blessed to move beyond his very very (for lack of better word) modest circumstances.

the impact of air conditioning

the inescapable, incessant heat has been experienced by us to SUCh a limited degree....we choose to endure it to see a monument or site, only to be picked up IMMEDIATELY by our faithful driver Asif the microsecond we enter the parking lot area (more on Asif later). It's hard to comprehend what this must be like for the many many many people who stay outside all day, exposed to the relentless, merciless sun and heat. How do they have energy - or will - for anything? Life is an entirely different experience - entirely - when it is comfortable.

The Land of the Cow

And pig, camel, dog and goat. In New Zealand, sheep rule. Here, lots of other critters do, but nothing beats the cow. Bony and ubiquitous, they do what they want, when they want, where they want. The price for an accidental death on the road, according to Asif (our formidable driver who has yes like a hawk and reflexes like a martial artist...and undersatndably so), is several thousand rupees....and this is on a no-fault basis and is enforced by the wrath of the villagers, who will encircle your modern-day camel (i.e. the offending automobile) in a matter of seconds.

In India, the street is your stable and your stable is your street. Breathe deep.

"vuja de" all over again

or, the phenomenon where you've NEVER had that feeling before!!! (sorry, my favorite George Carlin joke). Anyway, it's really deja vu when, after concluding an inspiring historical tour of a thousand-year-old-or-more monument, you are whisked into a side room full of fabrics, offered tea and given a shpiel you've heard at least 3 times in the past 3 days, with assistants in tw to roll out the different pieces in eye-battingly rapid successsions.

Difference between the wall hanging biz here and the carpet biz in Turkey? It's Indian "chai" and not apple tea. But the disdain when you say you will think about it is universal.

just say no to photoshop!

not that it doesn't have it's rightful place...but rajasthan is NOT one of them! This is a land where colors from lapus lazuli and mustard seed stain brushes made of squirrels' tales and camels's eyebrows (really, not kidding) to create enduring timeless art. TIme-consuming and awe-inspiring. Adobe, please leave this corner of the earth alone.

the noises of Udaipur

Our blissful arrival in Udaipur was jarred a bit by the pyrotechnics of our first evening. Should I be scared? It was with great relief to learn the next day that it was fireworks from a wedding...

Other choice Udaipur sounds you just don't get in SF:
The Muslim call to prayer five times a day
The beating sound of laundry against the rocks, well-heard from any vantage point across the lake.

the fragmentation of globalization

After checking into the Hotel Sarovar, I grabbed some dinner up on top of the building, which overlooks the lake, with a nice view of the nearby mosque. There, the waiter shared how his family lives 60KM away...the 'maitre'd' himself hails fromNepal! The taxi driver yesterday in Bangalore also supports his family from afar. It's clear that globalization but unites - and fragments.

Smile and nod

This is what my coworker Darren Begley taught me to do when things pile up at work - an effective stress-masking response to unattainable demands. They seemed to get that here: all of the feedback I've read about in our surveys at work came to life when I was in charge of getting the multimedia going for Gideon's All-Hands' talks here. For the first 2 times i was lulled into a sense of confidence by the vigorous assurances of our vendors - "it's being taken care of." Thanks to Bill's enlightenment, I was quickly educated in the realities of what a nod really does (or does not) mean. 2.5 hours later, in the hot auditorium, I realized that furious activity and positive ascent do NOT equal a task being done. A good lesson for me in the realities of our globalizing world.

Now THIS is the way to fly

Not another wafer-thin mint, the man cries in Monty Python. Not only do we eat constantly in our hotel, between meetings, during meetings... but a 1-hour flight also includes hot food. Sure puts our pretzels we get on our 5-hour flights to shame!

Meta-Leela

Our incredible amazing meal was $15 for 7 of us....contrast that to about $90/person at the Leela, and the Leela cannot provide the ambiance and incredibly authentic fare we had at this local place (which literally embodies the moniker "watering hole") called Garam Naram. Spicy, steaming veggies accompanied by 6? varieties of stuffed bread, all served to us by the very youthful-looking waiter who wrote absolutely nothing down as our cohort Danny Mehra fired off our extensive order.

Gideon was in heaven and I was too (once I used some butter to fan the flames in my mouth!!)

Ok, it's 5 - not 7 - stars

One of my co-worker/travelers said the Leela is a 7-star hotel and I believed him. It's technically 5 but I'll opt for the Spinal Tap exaggeration to 7...it deserves it. Ostentatious and pompous yes. Also, perfect. Perfectly clean. Perfectly light. Perfectly beautiful. Perfectly indulgent and anticipatory of every feasible and conceivable human need one could have. Where do I start? The marble floors. The enveloping linen. The fluffy huge perfectly white towels. The water and amenities abounding everywhere.

Oh - and the mouth-watering breakfast bar at their Citrus Lounge.....the whole affair, plunked right in the middle of intense, chaotic, swarming Bangalore, easily lulls one into a sense that all is good this side of heaven. Plus the VIP treatment (being picked up by multiple cars, whisked away to executive briefings, having your photo snapped in lobbies with kiosks bearing your names!). Can I snap out of it?

The day (?) that would not end

Or was it a day? What is time? All is lost when you fly 14 hours...wait an hour....fly 4 more...wait 10 more....and fly 4 more. Reminiscent of our arrival in Auckland last year, arriving in Hyderabad via a Pacific route was like Groundhog Day: you keep thinking it's another day but it's really all the same day.

The cost of SAL

The service and experience on Singapore Air was stellar but don't forget - it's Singapore Air. That means you have to fly through ....Singapore. This translated into 10? hours in Singapore. Singapore. Singapore. Never been there?

Hot muggy weather.
Malls.

hmmmm.....cannot think of anything else. Am I missing something? Not that I could find in the ten hours we were there. Singapore: all the suburb and shallowness you can buy - at urban prices!