6,400 steps in Palitana

This Saturday, Zirong, Dario, Charlotte and I visited one of Jainism's holiest (also, hilliest) pilgrimage sites: Palitana. After a not so very pleasant 3:30 am wake-up call, our rented driver took us on the four-hour ride to this magnificent site. It is a temple complex built on the top of a mountain. To get to the top one has to climb no less than 3,200 steps. The rewards, however, are immediate and absolutely stunning. It is a marvelous place with pilgrims dressed in white robes everywhere, chanting prayers in different temples. Free food is served, which is all vegetarian and contains no root vegetables, as eating the root would a) kill the plant, and b) risk killing more microorganisms than necessary. To the followers of this very ancient religion, all life is holy and they are very particular about this. They are also immensely affluent; as a group they constitute no more than 0.42% of India's population, however pay 24% (!) of collected taxes. They also have the highest literacy rate in the country.

That everything was built on the top of a mountain several hundred years ago makes the experience even more incredible. Climbing the 3,200 steps took about an hour and a half - dragging rock the same way... probably longer.

India, please take note

India is in many ways an absolutely terrific country. The people are friendly, the economic progress impressive. But there are a few obstacles to realising its full potential; corruption, extreme poverty and bureaucracy are a few of them, but there is no point yelling and demanding that it does something about it, because those are relatively complicated matters, which will take a lot of time and effort to resolve.

The question of economic literacy on a corporate level is an entirely different matter. If you want to realise your full potential as a company, you really must learn how to bundle goods correctly. This is no joke, as the following story reveals an ocean of incompetency on the part of the owners of PVR Cinemas. There you can buy a menu, consisting of a Pepsi and large popcorn for 120 rupees. I am all fine with that, it is just that I would much rather prefer a bottle of water with my popcorns. Of course, it is not possible to exchange the Pepsi for the water, because rules were not meant to be broken. I can, however, order a large popcorn and a bottle of water without ordering the menu. Now it costs... 100 rupees! This immensely incompetent company simply refuses to let me pay 20 rupees extra for the water. I would boycott them as a matter of principle, if it were not for the fact that I leave with more money left in my wallet than necessary.

There are very many sounds in this bus...

Last weekend, Thomas and I did a short trip to Kutch, about two and a half hour away by car from Ahmedabad. Instead of going for the rather lame expat-friendly private car alternative, we went by public bus. It is interesting, because in the previously mentioned course "Digital Inclusion for Development" there has been a lot of ranting about how good it is with local Internet kiosks, where villagers can access government services, instead of having to go by bus to the city and some physical office.

Although this was to me understandable on some theoretical level, the whole concept now became very hands-on.

Travelling by public bus is very cheap, for which there are reasons. There is a seat supply deficit. There is very little suspension. There are very many sounds. And there are sometimes cheating bus conductors, all of whom should take careful note of the fact that you will probably earn more money if you only try to cheat the clueless foreigners, instead of simultaneously trying the same trick on the not so amused locals, because then the foreigners get sympathy points and protection and you end up with nothing but the standard fare. Poor you.

Kutch is home to a wild-life reserve, with some of India's last remaining wild donkeys as its main attraction. As you can see from the pictures, the landscape is quite special. The top photo contains a barely recognisable donkey, if you can make it out. By the way, I have absolutely no idea why Blogger keeps messing with the format.

Field trip to Pij

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit a SEWA (Self Employed Women's Association) centre in the village of Pij, about an hour and a half by car from Ahmedabad. The field trip was part of our final project in the course Digital Inclusion for Development, where we look at how information and communications technology can help achieving development goals in various parts of the world.

At this centre, among other things, they offer computer literacy classes, costing a fraction of the prices at ordinary computer schools. Some 20-25 people take these courses every month (the village has about 25,000 inhabitants) and are thus able to learn Microsoft Office, surfing the Internet and operating accounting software. Basic English, necessary if you want to use many quite ordinary functions, is taught via video link from SEWA's head office in Ahmedabad. With their newly acquired knowledge, students are then not only able to apply for jobs as cashiers and IT café staff, but some even buy their own computers to set up business, offering services such as burning CDs for other villagers. The loans with which to purchase the hardware they get by showing their computer knowledge certificate.

We made a short film about the visit. It is only about seven minutes in length, but if you do not feel a desire to watch the whole thing, I suggest you concentrate on the final part. I think it says something fundamental about human nature. The computer teacher says that before she started working with SEWA, nobody in the village knew who she was. Now when she walks down the street, they point at her and say she is the computer teacher. "I now have an identity of my own."

Udaipur

Friend and fellow Amul ice cream lover Zirong and I went to Udaipur this weekend. Udaipur made the number one place in India to visit in Lonely Planet's second last update and it is described as Rajasthan's, perhaps India's, most romantic city. How they reached this conclusion is beyond my imagination and apparently the description no longer fits as Udaipur is now not even to be found among the highlights in LP's 2009 version.

Something must have happened during this time, but still I had got very positive reviews from some of my fellow exchange students. I admit I had some high expectations. Maybe it is because I am not in my most romantic mood at the moment, but I must say I was rather disappointed. There is very little genuine atmosphere left, as often happens when busload after busload of Western middle-aged tourists swarm the place. For James Bond fans there is the white cake palace in the middle of Lake Pichola known from Octopussy, dare I say one of the highlights of the Roger Moore era. The town is immensely proud of this connection with at least two restaurants claiming to show the movie every night. There are also the fairly overrated City Palace, which was drowning completely in tourists (maybe we should not have gone there on a Sunday, I know...) and some narrow, nice streets with unfortunately too many too touristy shops. One fun part, though, was the folk dance and puppet show we went to in the evening (Rajasthan is apparently famous for puppets). Also, the stone carvings of the Jagdish Temple were pretty impressive.

The return bus trip proved to be far longer than acceptable with the bus regularly having to stop to cool down the engine. Just to make it even a little bit longer, it also stopped for lunch... It felt good to get out of campus, though!

Celebrating Diwali

Yesterday saw the celebration of Diwali, the festival of light. It is apparently celebrated in remembrance of the god Rama returning from 14 years of exile together with his wife Sita. To show their happiness, the villagers, according to tradition, lit candles everywhere, a custom still very much adhered to among modern Indians. The goddess of wealth and happiness, Lakshmi, is also celebrated during this festival, which mostly resembles a mix of Christmas and New Year in Western tradition. It is a festival of joy, happiness and kindness. Lit candles, firecrackers (loads and loads of them, preferably at 3 am...), the occasional exchange of gifts and dining with family are important parts to it. Since our families for obvious reasons are not present, your fellow dorm mates will have to double. Activities yesterday once again showed the very likeable Indian habit of actively including their foreign peers in activities important to them, something which I found quite moving.

Decorating your home is an important part of Diwali and the campus cultural committee had organised a competition between the dorms. Among the things we did was a coloured sand image of a peacock, the process of creation showed in the pictures above. Being my first (and quite likely, only) sand image I must say I was rather pleased. Have in mind, the image is comprised of sand sprinkled on the floor only, there is no paint, crayon, glue or other tools to aid you. We did not win, however were awarded a special mention for outstanding effort by the panel of judges.

Day 4: Panjim

The nightly bus ride from Hospet to Goa's capital Panjim (or Panaji, as it is also known) proved to provide an endless array of jokes on the format "How many Israelis does it take to get off a bus?" and "How much time do x Israelis need to get off a bus and what will be their decibel level as they go along?" Goa is obviously a long-time favorite among backpackers and the bus made several stops along the way. These people were quite the stereotypes. Rasta plaits, cargo pants and mini drums in bands across the chest, which they to my regret enjoyed playing in the middle of the night. One was even wearing a t-shirt with the text "God created grass, man created booze. Who do you trust?". I would argue God also created toadstools, however that does not mean I intend to consume them. What troubled me the most, though, was the way one (the gentleman in the marijuana t-shirt) treated some beggars in Hospet. Yes, sometimes I too think beggars are annoying, but that does not in any way justify a condescending behaviour of yelling "shoo, shoo" with eyes wide open and accompanying hand gestures. It is, to put it mildly, not the way to behave when you are a guest in somebody else's country.

Upon arriving in Panjim, we were immediately stricken by the beauty of the town. By all Indian standards, it is clean, quiet and well behaved. The Portuguese heritage is extremely visible in everything from churches, secular architecture, clothes (especially the females') and, dare I say, mentality. This is not at all odd, considering the Portuguese did not leave (or rather, they were kicked out) until 1961. Panjim truly is a natural pearl among Indian cities.

After too much looking (thank you again, LP incomprehensible maps...) we found a very pleasant guesthouse, where we had planned to spend the night. After the best breakfast I have had since arriving in India (there was coffee, and no loads of added milk and sugar...) we set out to see Old Goa, the former capital, 25 minutes away by bus. Back in the days, this was no tiny colonial outpost; in fact, it had more inhabitants than both London and Lisbon. Due to some nasty and unfortunately recurrent outbreaks of malaria, it was however abandoned in 1835 and became what is best described as a ghost town (though it has lately been revived a little). Quite a spectacular one, I would imagine, considering that it is home to some pretty impressive buildings, including the Sé Cathedral - apparently the largest church in all of Asia. There is also the Basilica of Bom Jesus (which holds the remains of St. Francis Xavier), the Church of St. Francis of Assissi, the Chapel of St. Catherine and... well, to be honest there are very many churches in old Goa, but to come to their defence, they are all very beautiful. Something that moved me especially were the wrecked tombstones of 17th century Portuguese men and women, now since long forgotten, around the quiet Chapel of St. Catherine. I specifically remember one piece with a faint, though still clearly visible, fragment of a catholic bishop's crest. A peaceful and tranquilising final resting place they have been awarded. A stone's throw away lie the remarkable ruins of the town's Augustinian monastery. I have always had a soft spot for ruins of that kind and this was really one of the best I have seen.

After returning to Panjim we expored this town further, wandered its narrow streets up and down, discovered the wonderful, but tiny, Top Gear Pub and ate some truly terrific food at a hotel, the name of which I have by now forgotten. There is not much to tell about Panjim, because really it is not so much a town for exploring as for sensing. It has a rhythm of its own. It is best experienced in listening mode. A favorite of mine.

Pictured clockwise: Basilica of Bom Jesus; Panjim; Sé Cathedral; Augustinian monastery ruins