Playing Cricket, err Catch Up

I'm sure all of you are aware that the Cricket world cup is going on right now. I've learned the rules and I'm trying to pay attention, but I'm not even the biggest fan of baseball, and this game takes even longer to finish.

Anyway, I mentioned a little while ago that I got into a nice routine the first few weeks of working in Pune. I enjoyed the differences in culture, my drive to work, how the lines (or "queues") worked in the cafeteria, and the restaurants we'd all meet up at after work. I was having a blast, and the days flew by.

The morning after Meg and I had our philosophical discussion about chance, I left breakfast and headed out to the ZS car. My head was still full of things to write down, when I noticed we had a new driver this week. Oh, yeah, company cars picked us up and dropped us off everyday, and they do that for all ZS employees, it's as nice as it sounds. This week's driver had bedecked his car in blessed garlands from a temple. There were strands of flowers hung in looping arcs over the front grill. I pulled out my notebook and starting jotting notes about temples.

On the way to work, we passed a herd of goats being shepherded along, and then a street puppy in the middle of the road, looking so cute and happy, unaware that cars and scooters narrowly avoided crushing it. Ten meters later, a little girl, no more than six, was squatting on the side of the road peeing, also oblivious to the cars driving by. I pulled out my notebook and started writing notes about my drive to work, the disparity in incomes and styles of life on display in a one kilometer stretch.

(I'll post separate entries about temples and Magarpatta drive, they got a little long for this post)

A random list of smaller things about our time in Pune:

• There are at least two "Burger King" restaurants here, but they aren't the Burger King you're thinking of. They do have beef apparently, unlike Burger Barn, which sounds just terrible. There are a few actual McDonalds, with the Maharashtra (veggie) burger replacing the regular big macs, and the same old chicken nuggets, and an all dark meat KFC.
• Shisha Cafe is an awesome hookah bar in this little fenced in area of bars and restaurants on North Main called ABC Farms (the one with the picture of a cow). Shisha is on the second floor of one of the buildings, and it's just a metal roof with decorative thatchings and oriental rugs covering tables, deep couches, and a little stage. They mostly play jazz, they have live music, and some amazingly good kebabs. It's often packed, and with a surprisingly small percentage of foreigners.
• We also liked Sigree, and loved the Great Punjab. Both serve amazing kebabs and have a great atmosphere. Sigree is a bit fancier, but the staff at the Great Punjab are the best trained of any we've experience so far in India. That didn't stop three waiters from hovering over me, constantly refilling my water and beer as I waited for Meg to meet me. Still, even the hovering is less grating here than at other restaurants. We don't know if it's a cultural trait, but it's probably just the availability of relatively cheap labor?
• Ice cream here is amazing. Real ice cream, no stabilizers, no fake sugars.
• On the way to Mahabaleshwar we stopped at Dhom Dam. Or we tried to stop, but were turned away because a South Indian movie was being shot there.
• The road to Dhom Dam wove it's way through a little village, and our friend Shivendra filled us in on some interesting facts. First of all, bulls aren't really used very much any more, obviously lady cows provide milk, and some bulls help provide more lady cows, but most of the bull's jobs have been outsourced to machines. We still see the occasional bullock cart, but we also saw a few bored bulls. They did have pretty painted horns though. Secondly, temples are often the tallest building in a village, so they make sure to ground them and use them as lightning rods to protect the village.
• Oh, Jenny! In Indian villages they have a special "Horse Ambulance". We saw it!
• We had been seeing a bunch of older men with bright orange dyed hair. Shivendra explained that these were men who had gone gray and wanted to dye their hair, but if they tried to dye it brown or black, it would be obvious their hair had actually gone gray. Dying it orange apparently looks like less a cover up, and more like a stylistic decision.

I think that's all for now. I learned and experienced so many things during our three weeks in Pune, but they were all so cultural and subjective, it's hard to capture them.