After 22 hours of flight time and a borderline inhumane layover in Singapore I finally made it to Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh (India). I am staying with my cousin Pilo, his wife Seema and two daughters Sasha (3 years old) and Samya (3 months old). We stay in an apartment in an older neighborhood near the heart of the city. So far most of our time has been spent shopping and eating out.
Lesson #1 from shopping: Standing in line is war. If you aren't standing within 4 inches of the person in front of you then you aren't standing in line. Indians can muscle into space in front of me that I didn't even know was there. What I need to realize is that most of them aren't doing it on purpose, it's just how you have to be to get things done here. If you're trying to be polite in the grocery line then you just aren't going to eat. There is no time or room here for western inventions like "personal bubbles of space."
Traffic here goes by the same principles; organized chaos. Signals do exist and cars have working turn signals (i think), but that's just white noise for everyone on the road. Driving here is more like go-cart racing, except with scooters, auto-rickshaws (motorized 3-wheeled cabs), cars, buses and people everywhere. At first I was sure it was pure chaos but the more I ride with Pilo the more I notice the rhythm of things. Honking and body language are legitimate tools for communication here. This is a brand new concept for someone from the states where honking and body language are used solely for unleashing rage.
Eating out has been fantastic. Everything is exploding with spices and flavor and the staff always treats us like guests in their home. But they usually have to feel me out first. I am pretty much the whitest guy in every restaurant and all of my Jordan brand attire usually sinches the fact that I'm not from around here. But when I'm sitting with Pilo there is a bit of a family resemblance and our server is never bashful on confronting Pilo over who and what I am. At first after finding out I'm American they refuse to let me order anything spicier than plain bread. But Pilo is always quick to explain that our mothers are sisters and that makes us brothers and I will have exactly what he's having. This always satisfies them and they turn to me with a bright smile and an Indian head sway. While we're eating everyone comes by our table to chat with us, play with the girls and many times just watch approvingly as the young american kid eats his dosa and chutney.
There is really nothing western about where we are but I am finding that for every American luxury that I am missing there is an Indian luxury that replaces it. Hyderabad is growing rapidly as one of India's largest tech centers and has a western side that I am happy to be removed from. I would love to visit the brand new multiplexes and malls, but I am happiest living where the cultural flavor of the city is strongest. Pilo is showing me India in a way that only a local can.
Lesson #1 from shopping: Standing in line is war. If you aren't standing within 4 inches of the person in front of you then you aren't standing in line. Indians can muscle into space in front of me that I didn't even know was there. What I need to realize is that most of them aren't doing it on purpose, it's just how you have to be to get things done here. If you're trying to be polite in the grocery line then you just aren't going to eat. There is no time or room here for western inventions like "personal bubbles of space."
Traffic here goes by the same principles; organized chaos. Signals do exist and cars have working turn signals (i think), but that's just white noise for everyone on the road. Driving here is more like go-cart racing, except with scooters, auto-rickshaws (motorized 3-wheeled cabs), cars, buses and people everywhere. At first I was sure it was pure chaos but the more I ride with Pilo the more I notice the rhythm of things. Honking and body language are legitimate tools for communication here. This is a brand new concept for someone from the states where honking and body language are used solely for unleashing rage.
Eating out has been fantastic. Everything is exploding with spices and flavor and the staff always treats us like guests in their home. But they usually have to feel me out first. I am pretty much the whitest guy in every restaurant and all of my Jordan brand attire usually sinches the fact that I'm not from around here. But when I'm sitting with Pilo there is a bit of a family resemblance and our server is never bashful on confronting Pilo over who and what I am. At first after finding out I'm American they refuse to let me order anything spicier than plain bread. But Pilo is always quick to explain that our mothers are sisters and that makes us brothers and I will have exactly what he's having. This always satisfies them and they turn to me with a bright smile and an Indian head sway. While we're eating everyone comes by our table to chat with us, play with the girls and many times just watch approvingly as the young american kid eats his dosa and chutney.
There is really nothing western about where we are but I am finding that for every American luxury that I am missing there is an Indian luxury that replaces it. Hyderabad is growing rapidly as one of India's largest tech centers and has a western side that I am happy to be removed from. I would love to visit the brand new multiplexes and malls, but I am happiest living where the cultural flavor of the city is strongest. Pilo is showing me India in a way that only a local can.
Love that part about standing in line. Beautifully described, Alex. Haha and so hilarious.
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