Bangalore thoughts

635pm 30.8.8
On the way to Bangalore, I learned some interesting things about some Indians. First, there is definitely permission for some adults to slap other adults, without either feeling guilt or embarrassment. This occurred when one woman and several other people were threatening a crying child with a slap. The mother of the child slapped the woman, though had seemed to encourage the threats otherwise. I obviously don’t understand the language so I was unable to follow the events exactly, but the women didn’t seem fazed by it after the fact.


Also twice, I offered biscuits (we would call them cookies, butter cookies or something like sweet crackers in America) to the group, and twice I was not returned the remainder. The last person to have some simply kept them. The first time I was a bit offended, though I didn’t show it. I was offended because I gave the cookies to be shared, not to be stored for personal use later. The second time I began to appreciate, that when you give, you give. There is no expectation that if you give you’re only giving as much as others want, and not giving the remainder. It’s an innocent way of looking at giving and so simple.

This brings me to two virtues that westerners can learn from an Indian visit: Patience and long-suffering. Patience because you have to learn to do things differently and patiently, as well as, having to learn to deal with bloated bureaucratic ways of doing things official; and patience most of all because of the communication problem and slower pace. Long-suffering is something that the Indians do very well. They aren’t saddened or maddened by suffering, they simply take it as it is, and move on.
651pm

710pm
When I arrived in Bangalore, something unexpected struck me… I couldn’t read any of the signs… And few people could understand me. I felt like I was back in Eastern Europe. I didn’t think India could feel that foreign again… but it did. Luckily, I discovered that some of the signs (the ones that I needed to read) had small English print, though this wasn’t discernable at a distance.

Another innovation/annoyance of Bangalore was the bus stands… there were four or more rows of twenty or so buses… all with neat signs telling where bus number so and so went., but without knowledge of the place, you’d never know that stand 17 is where the buses to MG road were… and not many people could tell you either… I ended up running in circles until I finally found the right place.




It was on the city buses that I experienced the first of two blessings based on Indian Familial interest/responsibility of others. I was trying to find out where such and such place was, and the people I asked didn’t know English, but when the place I was looking for was close, a person behind me who had overheard my need told me to get off at this next stop, go left and you will reach it.

It turns out that the place I was looking for wasn’t even the place I wanted to be… I was looking for the Cathedral, but it turned out to be a protestant cathedral and not the Catholic one… luckily on my search for it I had stumbled into an official tourist agency, where the guy trying to help me didn’t understand me at all… which was quite funny. But another person there was saying that they knew were a Catholic Church was, but not where the Cathedral was. It turns out that the church he was referring to and the church that on the map was simply called “Patrick complex” without any reference to it being a church was actually the Catholic Cathedral.



Well after the two posts about Bangalore that I’ve already posted, I made my way down to the bus stand, to await the 1130pm bus to Kutta. Where I discovered two things… 1. bus times are not when a bus will leave, but when the bus will arrive within 20 yards of the bus stand… it still may take 40 minutes for it to reach the stand, and 20 more for it to see if anyone else is coming. 2. Buses like planes can be canceled. Which meant that the bus I was planning to take, a direct bus, was canceled. So instead I had to take a bus to Gonikopa. Which was the nearest they could get me.

On the bus I discovered another new thing that I never thought about being possible, but evidently is. Buses not only can carry lice, but can also carry BED BUGS! Luckily, I don’t believe I caught lice, but I did have a very very nasty encounter with bed bugs. I ended up moving one seat forward after the encounter (at first I couldn’t believe that it was bed bugs) and was rid of them.

When I arrived in Gonikopa, I experienced the second of two familial responsibility events. In a sleep stupor at 530 am, I stumbled out of the bus and was trying to figure out where to crash while I waited for sunlight to make the trek by foot to Kutta. While looking at the ground in front of me, a man asked me where I was going, and he said, oh that bus over there is going to Kutta. So I was able to stumble over there and jump on.

The bus was exquisite! It was a 5 SEAT per row type, like some air planes, two seats on one side of the aisle, and three on the other.

Eventually it got me to Kutta, around 7, about an hour later than the direct should have, and too late for morning mass. But Father had arranged for a friend of his to walk me to the church. I’m sure he simply had to tell him, look for the foreigner. And that brings me up to Kutta.
733pm