Passing Time

Passing Time

Thursday, Nov. 16, 2006--Hospit (Cont.)

There is a wonderful juice place 2 blocks from my hotel. It has anywhere from 5-10 customers at any given time, so others realize it is good, too. I stopped there this afternoon and decided to try something different. A man was having a dark red drink, so I asked him what it was. It was grape. So I ordered that. It was so tasty. Then I saw that the apple juices were thick with pulp, so I returned in the evening after I ate dinner and ordered an apple juice. I asked them to leave out the sugar, and that was a mistake. It was okay, but it would have had much more flavor with sugar in it.

I went back to the same restaurant for dinner where I had eaten the night before. This time, I tried their rice biriyani. It was good with cashews and lots of vegetables. And it came with a side salad of tomatoes and onions in yogurt. I was so hungry that I gulped it down.

Friday, Nov. 17, 2006--Hospet to Bijapur

There are the cutest boys who sell newspapers at the bus station in Hospet. I talked to a couple fo them yesterday morning before going to Hampi, and one of them was there this morning as I waited for my bus. They are both about 11 years old. Ahmit told me yesterday that he leaves home at 4 a.m. to come sell papers. Then he goes to school starting at 10:00. He and the other boy both speak English so well because of their experiences of talking with foreigners (and probably because he also reads the English papers he sells). And Ahmit had a nice sense of humor, too. After he asked me the typical question of what country "is my native place," I asked him the same. He said, "France." When I said, "So you speak French," he started jabbering in French making it obvious that he speaks it as well as he does English. There's no telling what other languages he speaks. Probably German, too. Both boys were clean and neat with their hair slicked down into place. They are the kinds of kids that one wishes there was a way to help. Instead of begging for pens, chewing gum, rupees, or whatever they might get free, they are working and going to school. They were both nice when I told them that my hotel had the newspaper already. And both of them rushed back up to me when my buses arrived to tell me that this one was the bus I wanted.

The further northward I go, the poorer things seem. People seem less clean and wear clothes that are definitely dirtier and more worn than people in the South. Also, many people are living in fields in tent structures made of either plastic or palm fronds. The poorest houses in the South are at least houses with wovan cane walls.

Bijapur is an old walled city with lots of mosques and, therefore, lots of Muslims. Most of the walls around the city are still in good condition. My bus entered through one of the old one-lane-wide gates. I found a nice hotel that is fairly new. Then I went out exploring. Unfortunately, the two main sites to see here have implemented the now traditional Indian custom of gouging the tourists through admission prices for foreigners that are 20 times what the locals pay. I've now gotten to the point where it has become a principle with me. I just walked away from both places. My life will be a good one whether I ever see the insides of such places or not. I just refuse to submit to this form of cultural rape. Imagine if an Indian walked up to a museum in San Antonio and it said Locals $7; Foreigners $140!

For lunch I ate a thali plate. It was good with chipati flat bread, papadum crispy bread, rice, and four sauces. It was the first time I had done that in a couple of weeks, so I enjoyed it. In the evening, I had something totally new for me at a tea stall across the road from my hotel. It is called pabaji and is a thick vegetarian mixture (or sauce) that is dark red. It was served with two soft rolls which had been sliced and slightly toasted and chopped red onion. The taste of the mixture was a little like brochutta. My guess is that it was made from red bell peppers, onion, garlic, tomatoes, and other spices. I ordered a Sprite to have with the meal. That was my first American soft drink since leaving Texas. Wow, it tasted sweet!

Saturday, Nov. 18, 2006--Bijapur

Well, I am really just biding my time for the most part. It is still 2 1/2 weeks before I leave India. The only places I really want to see are Hyderabad and Bangalore. My guess is that I will not want to be in either more than 5-6 days. So I am staying an extra day here in Bijapur even tough I have nothing left that I want to see or do here. The hotel is good and cheap. And I want to go back to the tea shop where I ate last night and try some other things. Then I will go to two more towns on my way to Hyderabad. Both are old historical places. I don't know if there will be much for me to see (meaning places either free or with admission prices I will accept) or not. But going to each will pass some of the time. I hope the kids won't be as much of a problem there as they are here in Bijapur where 90% of them who talk to me ask me for a pen, chewing gum, rupees, or "anything else." The tourists have spoiled this place as far as having any meaningful interaction with the locals. Even a college-age guy asked me for a pen today!