Mysore ho!

My Trip to Mysore
No Bangalore visit is complete, according to my friends, without a trip to Mysore. I'm not sure about "complete" but Mysore is surely a very different place. Friends describe it as more "laid back". I would say that it is less urbanized. The traffic is a bit better, you see more low tech stuff (animals, old Ambassador cars) and more indications of less economic prosperity (beggars, hawkers). With admittedly only a little experience in the matter, I think it is a bit more of "old India".
In any case, Manju, our driver showed up promptly at the specified time (as usual) but this time he was in nice casual clothes instead of his uniform. Tom was planning to go, but woke up not feeling well, and so decided to stay in Bangalore. Thus it was just Manju and me. In the spirit of being a bit more casual, I asked if I could ride in the front. He seemed happy with this arrangement, and I liked it too. I could see better, plus it's easier to talk to Manju in the front. I suppose this is a good time to mention communication with Manju. He has a limited English vocabulary, but worse than that, his pronunciation is very difficult to understand. Not that he has an accent. He just does not know how to pronounce many words, and the result is quite amazing and difficult to understand unless you have half an idea what he is going to say anyway. Anyway, today, he apologized for his English (my standard response: Your English is way better than my Kannada). I asked where he had learned English. In school, but at his school everyone spoke Kannada, so he had little chance to practice for some time. He speaks 5 languages (Kannada, Tamil, Telugu, English, Hindi) the last two a bit marginally (he said).
The trip was a bit different from Ellen's and my previous trip in that they had completed the road better. There were no places where the pavement suddenly ended. That said, the 4-lane Bangalore-Mysore highway is definitely multi-modal. There are cars, trucks, oxcarts, scotters, rickshaws and any other transport method you can name all using the same highway all at their own speed. There were more stretches than in the city where you can move at high speed without being impeded, but I'm talking 30 seconds max before *something* comes up that you have to swerve around (horn blaring to warn them not to swerve themselves). And every little town has to assert itself by building ENORMOUS speed bumps (there must be a competition for the highest) and/or what seems like 3 slalom gates put 1/2 way across the road in right-left-right fashion so you have to swerve left, right, left to get through. (See picture of a couple of them). The 120km trip took about 3 hours in this fashion.
We stopped at two places along the way: Srirangaputnam, the home of Tipu Sulton, a Muslim king at the time of the early British Raj who fought the British and was eventually killed by them. I saw the tomb that he made for his father (Taj Mahal-like) and wife and kids and...A very elaborate place. I 'hired' a guide to walk me around the place. He was pretty informative and earned is Rs200. He actually claimed that was his fee but any more would be accepted "to help his family of which he was the sole support and this was his only job". Sorry dude; I might have given a bit more, but I was fresh out of moderate-sized but not too small bills.
In fact, I actually was fairly worried because with the change in plans of Tom not coming, that meant I had longer and wanted to check out a couple things on the web, and Manju was here...long and short of it is that I ran out of the apartment without taking as much money as I had planned and without much in the way of tipping money. I should mention that one is always on the lookout for places to get bills broken because ATMs usually give Rs500 notes, and most establishments will not accept bills that are greatly larger than the purchase. And of course you want exact change for tips (Rs100 notes are really helpful for guides and stuff. Rs10 notes for porters, shoe-guards, etc. (See later). Anyway, Manju told me that at the entry to the Bird Sanc they would take a large bill, and indeed they did so I had change again. But no large bill either, yet another worry. And we were in the country at this point. No ATM around.
Anyway, we stopped at Ranganathittu the very same bird sanctuary that E&I had tried to get Stanley to go to in 06. This was a very nice place. Probably as much for people as for birds, it was reasonably quiet, clean, and pretty. I took a boat ride in the river to approach more closely the birds nesting in trees on islands. This was a lot of fun; the boat was VERY stable (good thing; I learned later there are crocodiles in the water), carried 10 or 15, and was hand-rowed. There was no guide or anything although the oarsman occasionally muttered the name of a bird; I think the main point was the boat ride, but I enjoyed it a lot anyway.
When we got to Mysore, I was getting VERY hungry. We had talked about this earlier (I thought) and (I thought) he asked me if I wanted a full meal or sandwich. In retrospect, I think I supplied the word sandwich as he was struggling to make me understand a different word he was using. Again, in retrospect, I think he was using a word that meant "light meal". Anyway, he dropped me off at the Sidhartha Hotel (asking if this was ok). It seemed like a nice-enough looking place so, expecting various restaurants inside, I said "Sure". Off he went; I walked inside and found this huge hall with people eating at rows of tables. (Think the orphanage at the beginning of "Oliver") Plus an enormous line at the place where you (paid? were assigned a table?). And everyone was eating Indian food with no obvious place to choose what you wanted. Hmmm. After circling around for a few times to make sure I did not miss anything, I went outside. I had seen a bank with an ATM around the corner so I walked there and got some cash. Amazingly it actually gave a selection of bill types! I went back to the hotel parking lot which also had vendors outside and bought (1) a coke and (2) an ice cream bar. Great lunch, huh? But quick. I called Manju. I think he was quite a ways away, probably not expecting to get the call so soon. Eventually he showed up and apologetically said that I should have gone to the A/C Room where I could have gotten in right away. (I think I saw that room and it also had a line, but I did not tell him that.) He apologized, I said it was my fault. (At least partly true, for sure. I admit to having wimped out a bit.)
Anyway, we went to the palace, the Chumundi Hills etc. The hills overlook the city and you can see the palace etc. He kept stopping on the road up for me to take a picture. We'd get out of the car and climb something-or-other to get above the vegetation, and he'd find that this place had the wrong orientation for what we were looking for. Sorry, sorry, sir. I did not mind. I felt bad for him. Clearly this tour guide business was a bit new to him. On the way down, we found a new (to me) scam. At various vistas where the tourists stop to take pictures, were kids dressed up in costumes and makeup. They would strike fearsome poses and make growling and hissing noises. The first one I growled back at (in jest) and went on. By the time the next ones came along I realized what was up. They hoped I would take there picture and then they would ask for money. I could not resist, actually; I took a brother and sister pair. Next scam: The sister drew me aside and told me to give HER the money, not him. Then when I hand over rs10, she grabbed it and ran off. He said that since she had run off, I should give him the same. I told him I'd given what I was going to give, and if he wanted a share, he'd better make nice to her. (I'm sure the whole thing was a well rehearsed scam to double the tip). As always, I think about whether I should care that I give an extra 25 cents. But somehow being (or seeming to be) gullible does not feel good for 20 cents or 20 dollars!
Eventually I asked Manju to try again on the food. This time he took me to a pizza shop. Fine! Sounds good! I had a french-bread pizza which really hit the spot. Then off to Brindivan Garden.
Darned if I could figure out what was to go on here from Manju. He said something about "dancing" I thought. I paid the fee to get in (plus extra for camera) and in I went. It is really quite a pretty (and big! long and narrow) formal garden on about 4 levels, with a stream running down the middle, a carefully crafted waterfall at each level change and fountains a pools of all sorts all around. And *thousands* of people strolling around. Singles, same sex groups, apparent dates/lovers, families. It was quite amazing. As it got dark there seemed to be a palpable excitement in the crowd. I simply could not imagine what was going to happen. Finally it got to be 7PM and they started playing music on the speakers (fairly soft) and turned on colored lights in the fountains. That's it! It was certainly pretty, and the place was worth seeing just for the day-time view. But the thousands of people there for the evening lights was quite amazing and surprising.
I finally decided nothing more was going to happen an we were still 3 hours from B'lore the evening before a work day, so I phoned Manju to meet me. No way I could find his car in the enormous parking lot. I thought he was completely blocked in, but with a bit of help, he manged to 10-point-turn the car into a narrow corridor between lanes. Literally he had to fold the car mirrors in so they did not hit cars on either side. We got to a place where we could get out to an exit, but he thought that was the wrong on an continued on. Bad mistake! We got to a place where the lane was blocked by a piece of equipment so he turned right and left again. Oops. Oncoming headlights. We had to back up 50 meters or so through this narrow lane to get to a way out. He was directed (by some random person) around a turn and boom, there was the piece of machinery from before blocking our way. He backed up some more and finally we got to the exit we had seen before.
Then back home after dark. I think I should have sat in the back, partly to avoid the terror of overtaking an unlighted oxcart at 100KPH, but also partly because it might have been more comfortable for nodding off. But we did get home safely around 10:30PM with no oxen (nor rickshaws nor passengers) harmed.
Then this morning, just like yesterday was a dream, Manju is back at the usual time in his usual uniform, we get in the back as usual and off to work.

Pictures of all this stuff are in the usual place: http://picasaweb.google.com/burnsfisher/India2008