After 2 weeks

It is god damn hot over here. Temperatures average 42 degrees here. I constantly have an insatiable thirst that no amount of water can satisfy, even after having at least 4 litres of water everyday.

Internet connection here is spotty, and blackouts are the rule of the day. We had 2 unproductive days at work cause we couldn't get connected, and we cyber-geeks were rendered useless.

Food is generally good, but I am on the process of being curried out. I eat so much curry everyday that my shit feels spicy and have the consistency and colour of dried potato masala.

Not speaking the local language doesn't help, and because of our marked differences, we ended up being overcharged most of the time. Time to pick up a little Hindi.

The boredom after work is killing me, and since we do not have internet connection in our rooms, I have taken to drinking and playing fottball manager [no more 9 dragons :( ] with Tim coming in occasionally to play CS with a lan cable.

Cheaper than cheap

Some people say when you live with someone, you’ll find out more about the person. Well I did find out some stuff about Matt. (FYI, when you see things in brackets, this means that this is what Matt insisted that I put in, it wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.) For one, he is damn cheap (frugal). Please allow me to elaborate.

In our boredom after work in our rooms, we have taken to playing the drinking game up-down. Penalty was drinking a shot of whisky. Everyone was cool about the rules, and we poured a reasonable amount of whisky into the glasses whenever we lost. Well…..almost everyone. Matt was pretty high (a little tipsy) an hour into the game, and on one of his penalties, he poured an amount of whisky into the glass which could only be scrutinized when you tilt the glass.

Well if you thought that was the end of it, you were wrong. Instead of saying “I can’t drink anymore” and switching to water, which we would accepted in good grace, he came up with the excuses of “I hate whisky”, “I don’t want a nosebleed cause its too heaty”. When offered to switch to vodka, he readily agreed, thought about it, and stuck to whisky.

That was only for session 1. In session 2 on another day, he said he felt like a drink. I was intending to work, but since Matt invited, and since it was a real rare occasion, I agreed. On his turn, the card was an 8, and he said up. When a 6 appeared, he said, “That doesn’t count, I meant to say down”, and refused to drink. Later into the session, he was drinking one of his penalties, choked on the whisky, and watered the floor. Instead of drinking another shot, he said that counted as one shot”

I leave you guys now to make your own judgments ^^

(Judge not and you should not be judged) – read embarrassed.

D Day + 2, Saturday, 5th May, Golconda Fort.

Our first sightseeing trip. The fort was beautiful. This was the old capital of the Qutub Shahi empire (from Persia), before the 5th King, XXX, decided to shift it to Hyderabad because of a water shortage. A pity that it was heavily vandalized. The view at the top of the fort was beautiful, you could see the whole of Hyderabad, Secunderabad and Cyberabad (local nickname for the area where we were staying, where the IT centres and the rich from the It sector were staying). There was a 240kg weight that in the past, the Abyssinian slave guards would carry to the top to measure grain with. It was also the selection test for soldiers aspiring to join the army. I only managed to budge it a little, and only one corner of its square bottom lifted off the ground.

Embarrassment #2, on our way up, I needed to shit. And the only toilet was way below. Mr Abdul, our guide,lead me to a secluded and secure spot where I could do my business. Well, maybe not too secluded and isolated, a group of late teens, who found out that I was gonna take a shit, climbed to a perch from atop and started whistling and laughing at me. I could only afford a meek wave.

The guys that watched me shit.

D Day + 1, Friday, 4th May, Byraju Foundation.

Wow. I’m really impressed. This is where the real action is. The things they do here really help the people. Water purification, women’s empowerment, agricultural practices, and many others. This is CSR at its best, a far cry from what you read in the papers. And Byraju is Indian, not some international or religious one. Which brings about the thought. What has Singapore’s rich done for the poor?

Here in Byraju they adopt villages. However, the villages must approach them 1st, Raison d’tre is that if they do not take ownership of the programs, they would not change. Costs are split 50-50. Give a man a fish, he survives a day. Teach a man how to fish, and you set him for life. A model for adoption in Singapore?

We went to Secunderabad (Hyderabad is actually twin cities of Secunderabad and Hyderabad) for dinner. The choice was Paradise-Persis restaurant, one of the 2 recommended restaurants in Secunderabad. It was a savoury delight, I cannot imagine food so tasty and rich in flavours. I loved it (that coming from someone who doesn’t like Indian food). We shared 3 appetizers and a main course each, and it was worth every rupee. Left a huge tip in the end, and it worked out to $13+ each.

Embarassment #1, the latrine at Paradise was so high I had to tiptoe to pee. And because it wasn't stable tiptoeing, I had to lean against the side to gain stability.

On our way back, we picked out our local call cards. And in true Indian custom, the shopkeeper was really laid back (read slow) in processing them. As a result, we fell late. Well that wasn’t much of a problem. If India is what we have heard and experienced so far, they wouldn’t be on time. However, the auto rickshaw driverscouldn’t speak English, and none of us could speak Hindi or the local language Telugu. We ended up brisk walking to our pick up location, and to our horror, we missed the bus.

Oh what the heck. Let’s go for a drink. I’ve asked some of the Satyam people on our way out where the nice pubs were. We took another auto to Lifestyle, where the best pub, Sparks, was. Entry was prohibited though, some of us were in slippers and berms. In disappointment, we called for a cab. Same problem. Operator doesn’t speak English, and we needed to ask a local to help us convey our address.

Our cab (a van in fact) driver couldn’t speak much English, and we couldn’t speak any Telugu, but he seemed rather sure of were Satyam was. (Satyam technological Centre was where we were bunking, Byraju is its CSR component). Kan cheong is an understatement of what some people in our group were. The possibility of our body parts being sold to locals at dirt cheap rates made someone so paranoid (Tim).

“Stop the cab! Make him take us back to the airport for an English speaking cab driver! The signboard says Medak (80km). No way its so far!” Relax Tim, where we are is on the way to Medak, we ain’t going to Medak. It didn’t help that the roads were pitch black, and we couldn’t recognize the buildings. I saw a sign “Classic Family Dhaba’. “Tim we are on the right track, I remember this signboard.” “No way! Take us back to the airport! What? We’re here.”

You could imagine the relief on all their faces when they realized we have arrived at STC.

D Day, Thursday, 3rd May, Touchdown India

Welcome to the land of the religious. The differences are clear. Everyone stares at us. Well I don’t blame them, they don’t see many Chinese around. 1st chance I had I lighted a cigarette. 6 freakin hours. City kid couldn’t find an ashtray to stub it out. Imagine what I felt when Mr Shyam, our admin manager, telling me to dump it somewhere. No more $200 fines.

The weather is sweltering, and it was 6pm when we touched down. Imagine the heat at noon. When I went into my room, it felt like I’ve entered an oven. Bathe 3 times in 5 hours. At 2am, I couldn’t take it and took of my shorts. Good luck to the mosquito loitering in my room.

D Day – 1, Wednesday 2nd May

Its 5am, and I still can’t sleep. Can’t decide if it’s the excitement of flying in 8 hours, or that Man Utd has been kicked out of the Champion’s League.

The day got worse. I broke my key in the padlock when I wanted to put something in the bag, after I have locked it. Had to pry it open with pliers and a spanner.

At the airport, was scolded by an old Indian man at the check in counter. Timothy was there 1st, and checked in for all of us. The old man behind him wasn’t really pleased, and created a real commotion. Luckily the airport staff was nice and sensible enough to open a counter especially to check him in.

Hope these events weren’t a reflection of things to come in India.