Thursday, January 22nd, Hyderabad

Thursday was a bit more eventful, or perhaps my somewhat-rested mind was able to track the passage of time again. In the event, the house servants treated us to an excellent breakfast of chicory-enhanced coffee, fried eggs, toast, and parathas (a type of flatbread, very popular in India, which one can eat separately or use, like a utensil, to eat "curry"). Myself, my mother-in-law, and my wife then traveled with one of the family drivers to a natural-dye fabric shop, owned and run by my wife's older sister. As an aside, the act of driving is viewed very differently in India than in America. In the states, there is almost a feeling of pride to be driving one's self--and only the very rich/very boring have hired drivers. In India, if one has the means to hire a driver, then that is what is done.

What is also done, it seems, is very little if the boss is not around. My wife's sister's shop has several employees who all have trouble with promptness. The average work-day begins around 1100 and lasts until the workers feel overcome by hunger, generally around 1130. Work resumes near one-o'clock, only to cease again somewhere around 1530. While there, we obtained several items of clothing and consulted the employees for the alteration of other pieces, causing one worker to nearly faint from exhaustion. I have included a photo of the surrounding area.

Some of my American acquaintances hailing from larger metropolitan areas may feel as if they have reached the pinnacle of offensive driving capability. Abandon whatever you think you know, and read these words carefully. There are no rules on the streets on Hyderabad. Drivers of the various conveyances treat road lanes as a nifty way of centering one's vehicle, pedestrians treat the lanes as a handy way of walking a straight lane, and various fauna meander between the indicated separations, as well. In essence, it is chaos. Auto-rickshaws--basically scooters with a shell-like enclosure placed over it, with benches for anywhere from two to eight passengers--rocket by between the much larger ultra-compacts which make up the majority of four-wheeled conveyances in Hyderabad. Regular scooters travel in packs, sometimes carrying up to four (!) people, fitting in spaces between vehicles where an undersized cat would hestitate to go. Compact car drivers are rather relaxed about whether to drive American (right-sided) or British (left-sided) style for any given minute, and frequently will stop abruptly to reverse their orientation by 180 degrees. There is simply no way to describe this mess adequately to one not familiar with it already. Here's a picture to give some idea, and I hear that Mumbai (Bombay) is even nuttier.

We stopped for gas, and the experience was a throw-back to what I've heard about 1950's era convienence stores. Multitudes of uniform-wearing workers lounged near every pump: one to take your money and one to pump your gas. There were probably twenty or more total workers present at one station--compare this with the two or three at your local Mobil station in the US.
Charminar (char-"four", minar-"minarets") is the palace near the heart of old Hyderabad, constructed hundreds of years ago by the king in thanks for sparing him and his city from the worst of a rampaging plague. This section is also home to a thriving bazaar where one can purchase near anything, especially bangles and cords of cloth. A word to the wise, keep your wallet in your front pocket, keep your eyes on the merchandise, and walk purposely. Otherwise, every shopkeeper will motion you over, and every beggar will see you as a juicy target. Beautiful examples of ancient construction abound throughout, making this section a must-see.