Thursday, December 15, 2011

One More From Abhi

The little guy doth talk a lot - almost non-stop at times. You resort to strong arm tactics to get some respite and very soon you are missing the chatter and find the silence deafening. And then you start seeking ways to get them talking again without losing face. Just one of the many parenting traps.

Ok, back to the story.  BTW, a little knowledge of colloquial Hindi may be required to "get" this one.

Malini was putting the boys to sleep - the usual routine being to read to Abhi (while Arjun reads his book), and then turn off the lights and lie down with them until they drift off to sleep. Of course, most often Malini is the one who falls asleep first and has to be woken up later. Anyway, the reading was done and the light was off, but Abhi would not stop chatting. It was just one question after the other. Finally, in exasperation, Malini exclaimed, "Arre mere baap, just sleep already!" Of course, Abhi immediately wanted to know what that meant - What is "mere baap?" Malini gave the literal translation ("my father") and then added, "Ok, now go to sleep." Promptly came the reply from Abhi: "Why should I listen to you? I am your father!"

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Abhi-isms

Turns out, we do forget. When your child does or says something that seems memorable, the general tendency is believe that you will never forget it. Ironically enough, we were reminded of this while indulging in a newly popular pastime at home - watching old home videos of Arjun and Abhishek. I collect stories and both Arjun and Abhi have been a rich source of them.  Unfortunately, many of Arjun's stories are either lost to the mists of memory or involve potty training (or lack thereof) and the risk of future embarrassment is too high. Abhi, on the other hand, has a bit of a knack for smart comebacks and I want to record some of them before they fade. I

1: Abhi and Arjun were playing Wii football with Suraj.  Abhi and Suraj were on the same team with Suraj being the Quarter Back and Abhi being the Running Back. They were struggling on offense and Abhi kept insisting on a particular play.  Suraj finally gave in and selected that play only to have it fail miserably. He turned to Abhi and complained, "See what you made me do! I knew that play wouldn't work!!" If he was expecting a "My Bad" from Abhi, he was sadly mistaken. Abhi responded, "It's your fault. Which QB listens to the running back?"

2: We were in the midst of the morning rush and as happens sometimes, Abhi was still eating his breakfast (Cheerios) while getting ready to wear his shoes. He was wearing a blue shorts and had a pair of tan socks on.  In a bid to needle him a bit, Malini goes, "Abhi, you picked the wrong socks, they don't match your shorts." Without missing a beat, Abhi came back with, "Yes, but they match my Cheerios!"

3: This is not a comeback, but still quite amusing. The boys and I were watching Game 5 of the St Louis - Philly baseball playoffs and the STL pitcher, Chris Carpenter was pitching an absolutely amazing game. The Philly offense is full of stars, but he had completely shut them down. As we watched him strikeout one more Philly batter, Abhi exclaimed, "Carpenter is on heat!!" I did a double take: "On heat? What's that??" Abhi repeated, "He is on heat!" Then it dawned on me - you know the expression for somebody playing really well - "He is on fire?"  Well, this was Abhi's take on that.

4: Abhi is all about winning and he can get quite upset when he loses (at anything). Until he figured out how to play the NFL game on the XBox, he would give up his turn to Arjun and prefer to enjoy a vicarious victory rather than a direct loss. We were watching some NBA playoff game and he kept asking me which team I was supporting. I replied that I didn't really care, but which team was he supporting? He responded, "I don't know." Me: "Why don't you know?" With impeccable logic, he replied: "I don't know who is going to win. So, I don't know which team to support."

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Steve Jobs Passes Away

When ESPN posts the obituary of somebody with no connection to pro sports on their home page, you know it must be somebody unique.  Such is clearly the case with Steve Jobs who passed away earlier today. Almost everybody has reacted with some degree of sadness upon hearing this news and I am no different. Are we collectively mourning the loss of an exceptional talent or is it that the products of his work touched each of us so personally? It is no secret that I have tried hard to pick faults with the legion of i* products that were the second coming of Apple, but it was with a full measure of recognition of the genius behind them.  There will be those who will dismiss his impact as being on mostly superficial considerations - after all, what he did was drive the creation of beautiful objects that were ultimately satisfying a craving and not a need.  However, at least for today I will submit that the real joy that the millions of users of Apple products got from their devices counts for a lot.  So many go through this temporary existence without leaving any measurable impact and then along comes a Steve Jobs - he left the world just the little bit better than he found it. 

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

More on the India Trip

Barely a week remains of our India trip and I can claim only one blog entry so far. An occupational hazard of being an intermittent blogger is that I am constantly filtering all encounters and observations through the "how do I blog this" filter, but rarely do those things actually make it into a blog. Waiting to write a coherent entry is a big hurdle, so I am going to stick to a few quick hits now.

The end of week 1 of our trip saw us heading to Kerala. Much rain and slush were promised, but we mostly encountered dry skies and 95% humidity. The mosquitoes could easily mistaken for little birds and the rolling power cuts in the night (to work around an explosion in a major power station) made for enjoyable sleep. To nobody's surprise, Arjun's hands, legs, and face were decorated with various insect bite reactions by the end of day 1. Abhi also joined him this time. Despite all the inconveniences, we achieved the main purpose of the trip - meeting almost every one of our relatives (after a gap of 7 years).

Kerala has not changed much - local politics are still a strong force (when we were there, my nephew's school was closed for 2 days because students were protesting the disciplining that some kid got) and there is no industry to speak of. There are pockets of wealth (mostly from NRIs), real estate in Cochin/Ernakulam is still booming (there are so many high rises there, that it almost has a real skyline) - although there are plenty of reports of shoddy construction - but overall, life has not changed much for most folks. If you want a driver to negotiate tight spaces, hire one from Kerala - the towns there have some of the narrowest streets I have ever seen. One prominent change I noticed in Alleppey was the large number of house boats moored along the back waters. Apparently tourism is a big industry now.

Returning to Bangalore after 5 days in Kerala was a relief - if only to get away from the heat, humidity, and mosquitoes. But life in Bangalore is no picnic. In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say it is quite brutal. Nobody I met - irrespective of their walk of life - seemed to ever have a relaxed moment and most people were constantly juggling at least five different things. Two aspects dominate the conversation here - traffic and real estate. The Metro was supposed to open this year, but is still a ways away.  Construction for the metro and elevated expressways are all over the city.

There is a stunning amount of money in Bangalore, but the disparities are starker than ever before. On one hand, there are people who are driving Italian sports cars and shopping for $100,000 Mont Blanc wrist watches and on the other hand are the millions who are eating out of dumpsters. Real estate costs in the heart of Bangalore easily rival Manhattan or downtown Tokyo.  Getting to your premium apartment is another matter altogether.

As a very interested, but essentially outside observer, I am constantly wondering where all this is heading? Perhaps this is how the Wild West felt like - India today (& I am largely extrapolating from Bangalore) is almost a lawless frontier tumbling at breakneck pace towards the uncertain future. It is clear that the leadership will not come from the politicians - it is a wonder they have any time to govern at all. The so-called leaders in Karnataka, Kerala, and the Center are all embroiled in some controversy or the other and spend most of their time protecting their power bases. I doubt the situation is much better in other states.

Upward mobility is a big driving force and education is still seen as the way out. The number of private institutions have exploded, but there is limited enforcement of standards.  The fight to rise to the top is even more intense and a big controversy today is the lax scoring done by the CBSE folks. Just a couple years ago, the number of students scoring 95% or greater was less that 200, now they number in the thousands. Things have gotten to such a head that a big name school in Delhi set their cut-off at 100% - yes, if don't have 100% score in your finals, don't bother applying there.

Indian sports has hit the big time - several of the "stars" from the recent Commonwealth and Asian games have tested positive for PE drugs. Almost everyday, a new name comes out. I am sure it is no coincidence that many of those athletes have coaches from the former eastern bloc.

One gets daily reminders of the uneven pace of development (I hesitate to call it progress). I went to a well known book store and picked out several books.  The checkout lady prepared the bill by hand, laboriously writing the complete title and ISBN - for whatever reason, they didn't just scan the bar codes that were on the price tags. When it was finally done, I handed her my credit card (since I was out of cash), but she couldn't charge it since their machine was down due to a power cut. She suggested I pop over to the ATM across the street, but that was closed as well - probably because of the same power cut. I had to leave the store without my books.

There may be a shortage of land, but the construction of new temples, churches, and mosques continues apace. It is perhaps the most cynical of land grabs anywhere.

India is a heady place today - the energy is almost palpable. Consumerism is rampant and the youth has long shrugged off the diffidence of prior generations in spending freely and generally flaunting it. There is way too much attention paid to Bollywood stars, cricketers, and corrupt politicians, but there is also much intelligent discourse. If you stop to think about it, there are literally a million different problems that will leave you paralyzed - but then, if you do stop to think, there will be a million others who will use that opportunity to rush past you. 

Saturday, June 18, 2011

First Week Vignettes

"Traffic in Bombay is real bad, but the drivers there are...how do i put this...ah yes, more civilized." This was the verdict rendered about Bangalore traffic by a recent transplant. I couldn't have put it better myself. To complain about Bangalore traffic is almost de rigueur, but it is not just the sheer volume of traffic that gets on your nerves - it is the utter disregard for fellow drivers that most drivers display and the near chaotic state that results is what really gets you.

We arrived in Bangalore on Monday on vacation and the same afternoon, I borrowed my sister's car and started driving around. Most locals I meet shake their head in disbelief when they hear this. I'll admit that a certain amount of foolish bravado is required to actually get somewhere, but what I am mostly stressed out about is losing my way - most of Bangalore roads are a big mystery to me.

The weather has been very pleasant so far - no rain, low humidity and mostly cool days. Certainly warm by San Diego standards (especially these days), but nothing compared to what most other places are going through.

Listening to the local FM station has been my diversion while driving around. The DJs talk mostly in English, but then throw in the occasional word or phrase in Kannada. And some times, some Hindi as well. They affect a very distinctive, if non-grammatical style, frequently using lines such as,"You can win couple tickets" and they must be ex-JAM champions - they can talk non-stop seemingly without the need to take a breath.

Ads for weekend MBA and other courses are all over the radio - many of them are from foreign schools, including some rather dodgy sounding ones - Ever hear of the "International School of Los Angeles?"

Arjun had a visit from the tooth fairy and three generations of Nairs went for a haircut - shop is directly across from parents' house. I also got a shave - thought it would be a minor luxury to have somebody else take care of that chore, but having the guy wield the old school single-blade razor was more nerve-wracking than relaxing. Cost: Rs 40 (~90 cents) for the haircut and shave.


Marketing
Visited the 'Mantri Mall' billed as the the biggest mall in Southeast Asia - it is a pretty impressive affair, complete with high end designer stores, a dine-in Taco Bell, and a batting cage. Risked the Pani Puri, but it was for nought - even Surati in SD is better. Almost bought a Karoke set - there were multiple choices - including additional chips for the Magicsing. But that will have to wait for another day.

Overhead at the same mall:
Customer: "Yeh Kahaan ka hai?" (Where is this from?)
Shopkeeper: "Kya matlab?" (What do you mean?)
Customer: "Is it made in India? Not made in China, right?"

Discovered a new author - Rohinton Mistry. Strictly speaking, he was not totally unknown - one of his books is part of my "waiting to be read" collection in SD - but, I bought his short story collection ("Tales from Firozsha Baag") and even though I am not typically a short story fan, I was taken by his writing right away.

Drove out almost 30 km from our house to check out a housing development. Places that one used to encounter on an overnight trip out of Bangalore are now considered part of Bangalore.

The whole family - 16 of us - gathered for a dinner at "Three Quarters Chinese," nominally to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Later wished we had gone to RR.

We were over at Malini's parents house and the boys were playing with Malini's brother's kids who are recent transplants from St Louis. The neighbor's kid was also there and Arjun was wielding a broom like a bat. Ah, cricket, I think. But no, it was a full fledged game of baseball and the local kid was fully into it. Cricket, baseball - he could care less about the name. Kids are the same all over. 

Monday, May 23, 2011

No Place To Hide For Lance Armstrong

In this blog I had mused about the lack of any strong links between Lance Armstrong and doping, although I must admit that it had always been too good to be true. And with the interview with Lance's old teammate and one-time close friend, Tyler Hamilton on tonight's 60 Minutes, there cannot be any more doubts about it - Lance Armstrong doped his way to 7 Tour de France titles and one more sporting legend and indeed certifiable hero in the manner he came back from his fight with cancer lies exposed as a mere charlatan. Does this negate his achievements? Not really - almost every top rider in the Tour was doping and in fact every rider save one, who was second or third in all seven of Armstrong's victories has at some point tested positive for performance enhancing drugs. So doping in pro cycling was almost required if you wanted to keep up. However, it is especially painful to find Lance Armstrong in the same category - we always held him to a higher standard and with all his work raising money for cancer victims he was even an inspirational figure to so many. This fall from grace will be one of the hardest in the sports world.

And it may not end there - next in line could well be Tiger Woods - his personal reputation is already in tatters, but the average sports fan will forgive almost any personal failing as long as the sporting greatness is not in question. But now the talk is getting stronger of Tiger's possible steroid use and his many detractors are going to keep digging.

I have always wondered - what causes a particular drug or approach (say, blood doping) to be banned, but not others - say, a new energy drink or the shark skin suit for swimmers? Ultimately, it does not matter - for the very appeal of sports is how black and white it is - there is a line and you either crossed it or not - there is no "I just grazed it" or "I saw the other guy do the same thing," whether it is the sideline in a football game or the list of banned drugs and practices. And now it has caught up with Lance Armstrong, and another sliver of innocence has been lost.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

An Expert In Remembering

OK, try to memorize this list: "Picked Garlic, Cottage Cheese, Peat Smoked Salmon, Six bottles of white wine, Three pairs of cotton socks, Three Hula-hoops, Snorkel, Dry Ice machine, Email to Sophia, Skin toned cat suit, DVD of Paul Newman's Somebody Up There Likes Me, Elk Sausages, Directors Chair, Rope and Harness, Barometer."

Done? Good, we'll get back to it in a moment. First, a bit more about its source: Its from the new book, "Moonwalking With Einstein: The Art and Science of Remembering Everything," by Joshua Foer. The book really has nothing to do with either moonwalking or Einstein, but is instead about developing a good memory. There is some discussion of technique, but it is more of a socialogical study of how the value of a good memory has changed through human history.  For this discussion the author uses the context of the US Memory Championships- which he first discovers as a journalist and then as a (very successful) contestant. This is in similar vein to Stephen Fatsis' journey into the world of competitive Scrabble in "Word Freak."

Entertaining though is the description of the competition, the training, and many of the main characters, I think the book has a couple of more important points to make. The first is about the value of a good memory and actually placing significant emphasis on developing one. For most of history, a good memory was one of the most valued skills that a person could have. Then came all the ways of making "external" memories: paper, printing, and now of course, the Internet. Over the last century or so, most progressive thinkers in Western education have rubbished the value of remembering things/facts, while emphasizing creative thought and comprehension. But, are the two really incompatible? The author makes a strong case for re-emphasizing memorization as part of regular schooling- in his telling, memory and intellect are really two sides of the same coin.  I am already looking for the 'Kumon' of memorization - I suppose some would argue that the Indian education system would fit the bill nicely!

The second point is about the benefit of "Deliberate Practice." This will be familiar to those who have read "Talent Is Overrated" by Geoffrey Colvin, whose central thesis is the same thing. In both cases, the authors are quoting the research results of Dr. Anders Ericsson of Florida State University who has explored this in multiple research studies. He (like many others in his field) has not found any evidence of "raw talent" and the best indicator of success/excellence is what he has called, Deliberate Practice. It is the notion that while practice may make perfect, not just any practice will - you have to focus on specific skills to practice and then do them over and over, almost ad nauseum.  Once again, this has great significance to how we approach education and schooling. The Kumon approach to math and reading are perfect examples of this approach.

The author covers a rather wide and diverse territory - maybe a bit too scattershot to be a truly gripping book. His description of memory techniques were all new to me - specifically, the use of "memory palaces."  The insight here is that the human brain has an amazing memory for images and more specifically for recalling what was in a particular place, as long as you remember the place itself. More importantly, the author tries hard to make the point that very few (if any at all) are "born" with a great memory - it is a skill that can be developed with hard work and with the right techniques. There is no such thing as a "photographic memory."

This brings us back to the rather eclectic list that I started this blog off with: Memorizing that list is an exercise that the author has the reader do and I dutifully followed his instructions.  That was more than three weeks ago and when I started to type this blog, I was able to reproduce it exactly from my memory.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Gender Issues

Malini and Arjun were planning his 8th birthday party when Arjun suddenly observed, "Amma, time is going by so fast!" Coming from Arjun, this was not an entirely surprising comment - he tends to be somewhat preternaturally inclined towards such thoughts. Not wanting to miss out on a teachable moment, Malini quickly followed up with, "Yes Arjun, soon both of you will be all grown up and have to deal with all kinds of responsibilities."  Abhi - who just turned 5 and is an expert on all matters - chimed in, "And you will have to go to work like Acha." And then without missing a beat he continued, "Unless you are a girl - then you can sit at home and relax."

Fast forward to the weekend and we are having bagels for breakfast - I was doing the toasting and serving and Malini (ever hopeful) comments to the boys, "Acha is going to take care of all the food this weekend."  Arjun had no comment, but Abhi was having none of it: "What, we are going to have omelet for dinner? That's all Acha knows to make!"

I tried explaining that before he was born Malini used to work in an office just like me and that I used to cook regularly while in school, but I could see that my audience was highly skeptical. He knew what our respective roles were and that was that.

Friday, February 4, 2011

"The Worst Journey In The World"


Antartica can safely lay claim to being the most inhospitable continent, with temperatures falling as low as -115F in Winter. But for much of the 19th century it continued to attract a number of sea faring explorers - because it housed a coveted prize in exploration: the South Pole. On January 17, 1912 the British navy captain, Robert Scott and his 4-man team reached the South Pole. However, they were not the first to get there - that distinction belonged to Roald Amundsen and his Norwegian team: they had beaten Scott to the Pole by 33 days. But, for the better part of the last 100 years, it has been Scott who has been celebrated as a hero while Amundsen has been largely forgotten outside his native Norway.  Behind this apparent contradiction is a very simple human truth: People glorify a noble failure far more than a (seemingly) facile success. You see, Scott and his team did not make it back alive: the last three members of the team perished on March 19, 1912 after being trapped in a blizzard and unable to get to their next depot of food and fuel - a mere 11 miles away.  The circumstances of their death and the stoicism with which they faced the inevitable (as inferred from the diaries they left behind) dove tailed perfectly with the British ideal of the heroic amateur explorer, who would accept any hardship and sacrifice for his comrades and his country and Scott became an instant hero around the world.

It took me a while, but I eventually got through the 600 page tome, "The Worst Journey In The World," by Aspley Cherry-Garrard.  The book describes Scott's second Antartic expedition (also called the Terra Nova Expedition after the name of his supply ship) which was from 1910 to 1913. Cherry-Garrard was the youngest member of the expedition - just 20 years old when he set out and with no real qualfications for being on the expedition. In fact, he is almost ruled out for medical reasons - he was severely short-sighted and needed thick glasses to see anything. Agreeing to go on the planned 'Winter Journey' (see later) is what gets him on the team. However, by sheer hard work and a good attitude he becomes a valued member of the team.  After years of answering questions about what happened during the trip, Cherry-Garrard gave in and wrote his masterpiece (the only book he would ever write) and it was published in 1922.  Almost 90 years later it continues to attract new readers and stir the imagination of almost everybody who reads it. Pretty remarkable for a book that devotes long sections to scientific observation about the local flora and fauna and is filled with archaic turns of phrase and lots of jargon - both nautical and geographical.

Attempting to summarize the trip here is hardly possible - I highly recommend the Wikipedia entry about the Terra Nova expedition for that - it is well written and thoroughly annotated. However, it helps know the broad outlines: At the dawn of the 20th century, both the Poles were as yet unconquered despite several fierce attempts to do so. Admiral Peary of the US would claim to the North Pole in 1909 (a claim that is largely discounted today), but the South Pole was still up for grabs when Scott and his team departed from England in mid-1910. The plan was to get to Antartica in early Summer (remember that Summer in the southern hemisphere is from Dec-March) and establish camp. They would then spend the rest of the Summer and early Fall laying depots (stores of food and fuel) along the chosen route to the Pole that they would depend on for the assault on the Pole the following (1911) Summer. They would wait out the intervening winter months (June-Aug of 1911) at their base camp (in a place called 'Cape Evans').  Antartica is barely hospitable in Summer, it has near impossible conditions in Winter - super low temperatures, howling blizzards, and of course no sunlight - and nobody had ever contemplated any kind of travel during those months. Until this expedition.

Camping in a Blizzard (sketch by Wilson)
On 27th June, 1911 - in the dead of the Antartica winter - 3 men headed out  to Cape Crozier, which was 60 miles from Cape Evans, on the eastern edge of Ross Island. The three men were Dr. Wilson (the leader), Bowers, and our author, Aspley Cherry-Garrard. The goal was to visit a rookery of the Emperor Penguin in order to collect some eggs which are laid in the middle of Winter.  Wilson (a zoologist) had a theory that examining the egg of an Emperor penguin (considered a primitive bird) would yeild clues about some missing evolutionary links. This was a most horrific journey - they really didn't know what to expect and things turned out far worse than anybody imagined. It was often pitch dark (they held up a candle to see each other and their way) and bitterly cold - temperatures were almost always around the -60s and one day dropped all the way to -79F. It was so cold that their clothes would freeze into boards within seconds of coming out of their tent and in the night they lay shaking in their sleeping bags, as Cherry-Garrard writes, "..until our backs would almost break." During the day their perspiration and breath would instantly freeze into ice and during the night their sleeping bag would be soaking wet as all this ice melted. They were "man-hauling", which means that they were pulling a sled with their supplies. And in their case, it was actually 2 sleds carrying almost 800 lbs of stuff. The surface condidtions were often very rough - sometimes almost sand-like because of the extremely low humidity.  Many days they covered a little over a mile after 10 hours of pulling and it took them 19 days to cover the 60 miles. Things only get worse after they reach Cape Crozier, but somehow they survive and actually return with 3 penguin eggs.
This trip is in fact the "worst journey" of the title of the book (and not the subsequent Polar Journey during which Scott and his team perish).  You know that the three men survived this trip, but you can scarcely believe it as you read page after page of the terrible conditions and deteriorating health of the travelers in Cherry-Garrard's matter-of-fact prose.  In fact, they come close to death many times but somehow pull through. Rather than discounting from the impact, the almost lack of poetry or overwrought text gives the telling a weight that is hard to shake off. The sheer accretion of detail - there is a detailed accounting of almost every single day of the 6-week journey - gives you sense of being immersed in the journey yourself and it is easy to envision yourself in the middle of a vast icy expanse - damp, cold, and miserable in the dark. Although you are well aware of it by now, you can't help but be moved when Cherry-Garrard says, almost in passing, that his two companions, Bowers and Wilson, survived the "worst journey in the world" only to die a few months later during the ostensibly well-planned Polar Journey.

The Polar Journey—Apsley Cherry-Garrard, del. Emery Walker Ltd., Collotypers.
Map of the Polar Journey
Cherry-Garrard gives much the same thorough treatment to the rest of the expedition and of course the starring role is occupied by the actual assault on the Pole and the subsequent discovery of the remains of the 5-man Pole party. The difficulty of going to the Pole and back is hard to exaggerate - they had to cover 1712 miles, almost entirely on foot and often pulling a sled laden with their gear and food.  They set out on November 1, 1911 and for most of the next 5 months they walked and man-hauled for 10-15 miles, every single day (except when trapped by blizzards).

Much ink has been expended on debating how the Pole party could have survived, but three points are particularly poignant. The first: Scott's decision to lay the final depot almost 30 miles north of where he originally planned to (in other words, they would have reached this depot almost 20 miles before the point at which they died) and second, his decision increase the size of the Pole party to 5 when all calculations about food and fuel had been made with a 4-man team in mind. The third one is something that would haunt the author, Cherry-Garrard to his dying day:  In early March 1911, he was given the charge to re-supply the 'One Ton Depot' and possibly help the returning Pole party who were expected to be at that depot by then.  However, he does not find them there and he has to decide between going further south (till his food ran out) or waiting at the depot. Since he has no navigation experience and indeed no real way to ensure that he would cross paths with them, he stays put at the depot and eventually returns to base camp. What he didn't know was that Scott, Wilson, and Bowers - the last surviving members of the 5-man Pole party - were just 70 miles south of the depot, slowly dying from fatigue, illness, and most crucially, a lack of food and fuel.  This knowledge, gained from their diaries 8 months later would be Cherry-Garrard's lasting regret - the dilemna of the path not taken - could he have rescued them if he had headed further South?

Bravery in the face of adversity is commendable, but is also in part the survival instinct. Willingly taking on a near impossible task with mortal danger almost inevitable, merely because one believes that it must be done - this is what heroes are made of.  What would drive these otherwise ordinary men to take on such extraordinary risks? This is what fascinates the rest of us - we, who go through our quotidian tasks treading over the same landscape that multitudes before us have and will continue to do so.  Perhaps this fascination explains why so many non-climbers aspire to reach the top of Mt Everest.  Indeed, there is an outfit that will allow you to re-live the Polar expedition, after a fashion: For $65,000 they will fly you to Antartica and you get to ski about 700 miles pulling a sled behind you. It will take you 3 months to get to the Pole, but unlike the Polar explorers of a century ago you don't have to ski back to the starting point - they fly you back.

Many, many, books have been written about the various Polar expeditions, but this is the one that most people think of. Why is this? Cherry-Garrard is not unskilled as a writer, but he is no Hemingway.  But what he lacks in skill, he more than makes up with the conviction of one who was there, of one who experienced and saw everything first-hand. This invests his text with an authenticity that no amount of careful wording or dramatic prose can evoke. It is a tough slog, but well worth the price of admission.

(Acknowledgment: The pictures on this blog are copied from the Gutenberg project from where you can download the book for free (link).)

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Peru Diary Part 5 (Dec 26-28)

Only two more days remained in our Peru trip and our last leg was a flight from Cusco to Peru on the 26th.  The flight was only around noon, but we didn't sleep in: Since we had missed the Cusco city tour due to my illness, Malini and I had arranged for a guide and driver (the same duo that took us around the Sacred Valley) to take us on a quick tour of the main sites in Cusco. Vinay and Sangeetha volunteered to watch the boys (who were only too happy to give another set of archaelogical sites a miss) and so we set out on our own around 7.30am.
Saqsaywaman

It was a pleasant morning for site seeing - it had rained during the night and the air was fresh and clean. Given the early hour, the sites were mostly devoid of other tourists. We started with the Inca site of Saqsaywaman - a large and historically important site that has a unique structure - 3 layers of zigzagged walls made of huge stones, some of them weighing hundreds of tons. The Incas believed in life being divided into three layers: the nether world (or the past) represented by the Snake, the earth (or the present) represented by the Puma, and the heavens (or the future) being represented by the Condor. The three layers of the Saqsaywaman complex are considered to represent those three facets.  Once we climbed to the top most layer, we were rewarded by some very nice views of Cusco, including all the main churches. We then hopped next door to the Q'enqo complex, which had an subterranean altar for ceremonies and (animal) sacrifices. We then drove to Tambomachay, which has the so-called "festival fountains." These are essentially artifical water falls that were created for the Inca royalty. The water continues to flow today through the ancient system of canals and channels and our guide held it up as an example of the advanced engineering skills of the Incas. Given that nobody else was around, our guide encouraged us to actually step upto the fountains and enjoy the water. It was cold and refreshing.  Our final stop that morning was at Puca Puccara, which served as a sort of watchtower and fortress along an important trade route. After this it was a quick dash back to our hotel, just in time to load up the van and head to the airport.

The flight to Lima was uneventful and as we stepped out of the airport, we were greeted by a blast of muggy air - we were at sea level again and right on the coast, to boot. For some reason, a number of us were fixated on McDonalds for lunch and we managed to find one just before reaching our hotel. We were booked in a place called 'Peru Star Apartments' and it had been a bit of an unknown.  Upon arrival, we were pleasantly surprised by the quality and spaciousness of our accommodations. We had a 2-room suite to ourselves and the Murthys and RD were sharing a 2-story townhouse. They were all part of a rather large building located in the embassy district of Lima. This meant that we had a heavy security presence all around and the streets were wide and clean.
A bit later we headed out on a short walk to a nearby grocery store. Lima is a modern city and at least that part of town was very remniscent of "old" Bangalore - the feeling was the same.  Unlike every other city we had been in, there was very little about Lima that reminded you of Peru, or at least our idea of Peru. The rest of the evening was spent just chatting and we ate dinner in the little outdoor restaurant that was part of our lodgings.

Front of Presidential Palace
The next morning - our last, full day in Peru - we headed out on a short city tour. Sangeetha wanted to chill and Bhavna and Pallavi stayed with her. We drove to the main part of the city and stopped outside the Presidential palace for the usual photo-ops. The main destination were the catacombs of the St Francis church, which were close by. These catacombs (absolutely no photography allowed anywhere inside) were the main burial ground for all people in Lima for many years and it is quite remarkable to walk through the narrow tunnels and rooms that are part of the foundation of the huge church. After we got out, we walked around a bit, unsure as to where to head next. RD tried to bargain for some shoes, but eventually gave up. After some back and forth, we decided on a museum that was along the route back to our hotel. However, when we got there it was closed and we decided to cut our losses and head back. Lunch was once again in our local cafe and the kids jumped into the pool for a bit.

Peru Star Apartments
In the evening, we all headed out for some shopping and for the much anticipated visit to an Indian restaurant. After the series of dining disasters (& the generally bland food), all of us had been day dreaming of Indian food, torturing ourselves with descriptions of the feasts we were going to partake of, back in San Diego. We headed to the upscale district of Mira Flores and it was a happening place. We stopped for some shopping and spent quite some time negotiating and eventually buying several wool (alpaca) items. Then it was time for dinner. We had no clue what to expect (this was just a place RD had found on the web), but we were in luck this time - it was a somewhat upscale place and it turned out to be the perfect setting for a farewell meal. We ordered lots of food and managed to finish almost everything. We all over ate - the food tasted so good! It was a happy memory on which to close out our last night in Peru.
The next morning we headed back to the airport for our flight to LA.  There was some confusion in the airport, but eventually it was all sorted out and we made our flight safely. After landing in LAX, we couldn't resist heading to Cerritos for another dose of Indian food - once again, we lucked out: We were looking for "Mumbai Ki Galiyon Se" and found it just before closing time. After some hesitation, they agreed to serve us and once again, we stuffed ourselves.

How will we recall this trip? There were certainly times when I was questioning our decision (or at least our particular itinerary), but at some point (as is the wont), we settled into a rhythm and began to appreciate and enjoy the sights and sounds of Peru.  It is a country with a distinct character of its own - historically, culturally, and scenically.  The people we met were uniformly friendly and pleasant.  A place well worth visiting.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Peru Diary Part 4 (Dec 24-25)

The morning of Christmas eve found us boarding a train from Cusco to Machu Picchu. It had been raining, but beginning to clear up. The train traveled through some typically spectacular mountain scenery and in one section went through a series of clever switch-backs to descend into the valley.  Along the way, we saw hikers heading out on the Inca trail.  There are 4- and 2-day versions of the hike and in both cases, you arrive at the Sun gate of Machu Picchu just in time for sunrise. The train brings you to the town of Aguas Calientes after about 4 hours and we walked to our hotel ("Gringo Bills"). It was a nice place and the manager was an American settled in Peru. He ordered lunch for us and gave us suggestions about visiting Machu Picchu (MP).
We had to take a bus to the top and eventually reached there around 2pm. The whole morning (and apparently the previous day as well) had been overcast and rainy and folks had been putting off their visit to the top. However, we were in luck - soon after we reached the site the sun broke out and we had glorious light for our entire stay. A guide was waiting for us and we proceeded to walk around for almost 3 hours (the site closes at 5pm).  The guide was not the greatest (her English was a bit challenged), but she tried hard and we all enjoyed the tour (although the kids were flagging after a while - they are a bit young to appreciate history and archaeology).  MP was a sanctuary of the Incas - built in the mid 1400s and used for about a 100 years - but was never discovered by the Spanish invaders.  As a result, it remains a pristine example of Inca architecture and is designated a World Heritage Site by the UN. It is a beautiful setting - encircled by a deep valley (through which the Urubamba river flows), which is further surrounded by a ring of tall peaks.  To the north and south of the site are the two peaks - "Machu Picchu", or "Old Peak" and "Huayna Picchu" or "Young Peak." The peak that is seen in most MP photos is Huayna Picchu.
In the evening, we ended up in the local 'Govinda' for dinner.  There tended to a 'Govinda' restaurant in almost every city and while they were all vegetarian places, they are not part of a chain and were all quite different. The unifying theme was that they are all run by Peruvian Hare Krishnas. Being Christmas eve, kids were setting off fire crackers in the main square and we could hear them going off well into the night.
Ollantaytambo
The next morning, we took the train back towards Cusco, but got off midway at "Ollanta" or the Sacred Valley.  This is a fertile valley that is still a big producer of Peruvian corn (apparently prized around the world as the best variety of corn there is) and potatoes (they claim to have over 4000 varieties).  Along the journey, a QC-related debate broke out between RD and myself.  RD is always skeptical of anything that is less than hard-nosed (unless it involves Steve Jobs, of course), but this time I had an ally in Vinay, who being a relative new comer to our division was immune to being tagged a homer. At one point Malini went to sit in the row behind us so that she could stretch out a bit and the lady seated there commented to her, "This is the problem with men - they have to argue about everything. Why can't they just agree that they each have different view points and leave it at that?"  She went on to add, "See, even you couldn't take it anymore and had to change places to get away from it." To which Malini responded, "I didn't move because of that - I just wanted some more space." Earlier in the journey, RD had been sitting next to this lady and had seemingly struck up a good conversation.  At one point though, he came to our row and squeezed in with us and later on admitted that he had been driven away by the strong views expressed by her.
We had a guide and driver waiting for us at Ollanta station and we proceeded to visit a couple of Inca sites, with a stop for lunch in between.

We also drove through a large Christmas parade that featured lots of costumed groups. The sites we visited had all been decimated by the Spanish, but still retained enough of their original structures for us to get a feel for the place. It was raining in spurts, but overall we all enjoyed ourselves.  The evening found us in Cusco and we checked back into Corihuasi.  Dinner was in the Cusco 'Govinda', which was within walking distance and all of a sudden our trip was coming to an end.  Tomorrow we would head to Lima, which was going to be our final stop.
Cusco Plaza de Aramas, by night

The Peru Diary Part 3 (Dec 21-23)

Puno, which is on the 'altiplano' is considered the cradle of Inca civilization. 
Puno:Plaza de Aramas
The Incas (who are sun worshipers) believe that the Sun is born each day from Lake Titicaca and as such the lake has revered status amongst the Incas.  The lake is famous for being the 'highest navigable' lake in the world and this moniker derives largely from a couple of British-built ships that patrolled the waters for a while.  One of those ships, the Yavari, is now a floating museum that is docked next to our hotel.
One of the unique features of Lake Titicaca are the floating islands - these are islands made of blocks of reeds (that grow in the shallower sections of the lake) and populated by an indigenous tribe.  They actually do float and are made by hand by tying together blocks of live reeds.  Every couple of weeks a fresh layer of reeds has to laid on the surface to account for the settling of the lower layers.

Floating Island on Lake Titicaca
We had booked ourselves on a 3-hour trip to one group of the floating islands, but during the night, both Malini and Arjun came down sick. Upset tummies, fever, and even a little vomiting. So they stayed back and just Abhi and I went with the rest of the group. The visit was quite interesting, if somewhat uneventful.  While some level of modernity has reached the islands (they have solar panels now), life is still very hard and didn't seem to be particularly comfortable. But they continue to pursue it, if only because it is the only way they know how.

How the islands are built
In the afternoon, we paid a visit to the Yavari, and got a tour of the boat. Then it was time for another visit to town - picked up our laundry and bought some groceries. Malini and Arjun had spent most of the day resting and were recovering.  Overall, Puno and Lake Titicaca were a bit anti-climatic: After the rural charms of the Colca valley, the hustle and bustle of Puno were a bit of a shock. The portion of the lake that we saw was not that spectacular either.  However, to be fair what we saw and traveled over was just a small inlet of the lake and we did not venture into the main body of water.  Malini and Arjun not being well didn't help either.

The following morning, we left early and reached the train station by 7.15am. We were going to embark on a 10-hour journey to Cusco.  The fare was a bit pricey and had been the subject of much debate during the planning process.  However, it couldn't have come at a better time: after the painful 6-hour bus journey to Puno and with Malini and Arjun still recovering, a nice long train journey turned out to be the perfect thing. And this was some journey - it went through some of the most spectacular scenery and we spent more than half the time in the viewing carriage at the back of the train.


The train (called the 'Andean Explorer') itself was a sort of Orient Express of Peru and we had excellent service throughout. Everybody had a great time and it wouldn't be a stretch to say that for the first time we were all enjoying ourselves. Highly recommended.

We were picked up from the train station (after a minor delay) by our Cusco hotel guys and we arrived to find a rather interesting building. Its location couldn't be faulted (walking distance to the main square and some very nice views), but its internal layout was rather strange - to get to our rooms, we had to climb several sets of stairs - first up, then down and then up again.  The building was old, but rooms were decent enough.  We went out for dinner (had our first Indian tourist encounter in Peru), but returning was a challenge - getting back to the hotel required a hike up a steep hill, not to mention all the climbing that we had to do once we got to the hotel.

Courtyard of Hotel Corihuasi, Cusco
The next day we had arranged for a city tour, but in the middle of the night I woke up with some discomfort in my stomach and then proceeded to spend the next 3 hours either throwing up or on the toilet. By the morning things had settled down, but we decided to skip the tour (Murthys and RD went) and spent the day indoors. It wasn't too bad of a place to spend the day since there was a nice closed courtyard just outside that the boys could play in. I spent most of the day in bed and ate very little.
The next day we were planning to head to Machu Picchu - and I was just glad that I had recovered enough to make the trip.  After all, you don't want to spend 13 days in Peru and not visit Machu Picchu.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Peru Diary Part 2 (Dec 18-20)

"Eat a light breakfast and drink some Coca tea" was the advice we got ahead of our drive to the Colca valley. The 4 hour drive was going to take us all the way from just under 8000ft to over 16,000 feet before we came back down to around 12,000 ft. Eat too much and you might barf. The plan was to head to the Colca valley for two nights and then drive from there to the city of Puno, which is on the banks of Lake Titicaca. It was a package deal - van, guide, driver, and accommodations. A Dutch family of three joined us for the entire time. The guide was a young chap by the name of Alex - Alex took his guide role very seriously and invested even the most mundane details with a great deal of solemnity. He spoke very deliberately and believed in repeating everything (especially plans) over and over again, but with an air of saying it for the very first time. The driver remained silent most of the time, but both guys were very friendly and made good traveling companions.

Soon after we headed out of town, Alex had us purchase coca leaves and made a big song and dance about the "right" way to chew them (mostly much ado about nothing).  Chewing the leaves was a mixed blessing (Sangeetha & Malini almost threw up, which would have been truly ironical since the leaves were supposed to fight nausea); there was another unfortunate side effect, which we didn't figure out till we got to Puno. We also stopped along the way for another drink of Coca tea. All of these measures were supposed to help us fight the effects of the high altitude.
As we went higher and higher, the landscape got distinctly lunar and it was spectacular - this was the high Andean desert - arid, but dotted with oasis where locals were grazing their livestock. We passed through a protected zone for Vicunas - the most prized breed of alpacas. They are only found in the wild and by regulation can only be caught a couple of times a year to be shorn.
Highest Altitude Point
About two-thirds the way into the ride we reached the highest point - 16,038 feet. We stepped out gingerly and walked about slowly in the stony landscape. There were the requisite souvenir stalls, but little else. The sun felt intense and breathing was labored. After a few minutes we had had enough and got back in.

We got to the Colca valley after about 4 hours of driving and a couple of miles of dirt track led us to our lodgings - Casa Mamayacchi in the little village of Coparaque. Thankfully it turned out to be pretty nice inside and we fell upon the buffet lunch like hungry wolves. It was all local Peruvian food - lots of fresh veges and barbecue chicken and alpaca. It was delicious - easily the best meal we had had till then. A short rest followed lunch and then most of us joined Alex for a hike into the mountains. It was a good hike - climbing at that altitude was a challenge, but the spectacular views and clean mountain air more than made up for it. Dinner was similar to lunch and we turned in for the early start the next morning.

Condor Sighting at the Cruz de la Condor
We were in the Colca valley to see the Colca Canyon, whose claim to fame was two-fold: at it deepest point, it is almost twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and it is home to condors, which is a revered symbol of the Incas. That morning, we were going to get to both: drive to a point on the edge of the Canyon called "Cruz de la Condor" where it was possible to sight condors in flight. The drive was a bit bone rattling, but views were great as usual. Upon arrival at the Cruz de la Condor, we found that it was rather crowded with a number of other tourists.

Colca Canyon
After a long wait, we finally saw one solitary condor take flight and that was about it. We then took a longish hike along the edge of the canyon and caught up with the tour bus at a later point.  We had a couple more condor sightings during the hike. The Colca Canyon was spectacular, but the depth was hardly as advertised. Turned out that the deepest point is much further and we were not going there.

We were famished by the time we made it to Chivay for our lunch - one look at the restaurant and my hopes sank. Sure enough, the buffet was as unappetizing as food could get and we suffered through it. Later on, we decided that this was the worst meal of the trip.  After a short rest in Mamayacchi, we headed out to the local hot springs. This was nothing like the snazzy Baldi hot springs that we visited in Costa Rica, but it only cost us $3 each.

The next day - Dec 20th, we started early for our six hour drive to Puno.  Once again we were going to climb to the high point (16,000+ feet), but once it started raining, the views changed quite dramatically. Unfortunately, Abhi got hit by motion sickness and photography was pretty much set aside. It was 6 hours with no food stops and we were rather glad to arrive in our Puno hotel, which promised to be the most modern of all the places we were staying in Peru.
In the evening we made a trip into town (our hotel was a bit outside), dropped off laundry, and got dinner. Puno is a bustling city with narrow streets on the banks of Lake Titicaca. While we were in town, we followed RD's lead in booking a trip to the floating islands on the lake. That was going to be the highlight of the following day.

The Dutch family also had come with us to Puno (but were staying in a different hotel). They were made up father, mother, and daughter (in her late 20s) and were in month 8 of a 12-month world-tour. They had already spent close to 4 weeks in Peru.

One thing that deserves mention is the extreme bloating that many of us got hit by. I first felt the rumblings during the drive to Colca valley and initially attributed it to the altitude. It however continued even after we had come down and upon inquiry, others also reported that they were terribly gassy.  We then decided that it was the Quinoa that was doing it and I promptly struck that off my menu. We were feeling better until I took a drink of Coca tea and sure enough, the gas was back and we had the true culprit. That was the last time I had anything to do with Coca leaves.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

The Peru Diary - Part 1 (Dec 15-17)

Looking back, it is not exactly clear how Peru wound up being our December destination. Certainly there was an element of upping the ante after having gone to New Zealand and Costa Rica in 2009. For a while we considered a sort of meandering road trip through New Mexico, but it did not grip the imagination and always remained nebulous. And who hadn't heard of Machu Picchu - that famed lost city of the Incas, "re-discovered" in 1911 by the American historian with a suitably exotic name (Hiram Bingham)? Whatever be the cause, after much waffling, we settled on Peru and the planning was on. Much of the Costa Rica gang demurred and only the original planners - Murthy family, RD, & us were in the group.

As usual, we checked and rechecked the fares (no doubt causing flares to go up in airline circles that there was an impending rush to visit Peru in Dec) and finally when we pressed the buy button, only Vinay was able to actually get the tickets for our original planned date of Dec 16th. We couldn't leave him hanging, so we bit the bullet and bought tickets for a day earlier (Dec 15th). And then a weird coincidence - a few weeks before we were to leave, Vinay was told by the airline that the flight on the 16th was being canceled and that he had to leave either on the 15th or the 17th. And, so it came to pass that on the evening of Dec 15th the gang of nine was gathered in LAX airport for our non-stop, red eye flight to Lima, Peru.

The flight was fine and upon reaching Lima, the first blow fell - our flight to Arequipa (our first destination city) was delayed by over 4 hours. Lima airport is quite nice, but a 8 hour layover was a bit much. The airline gave us lunch coupons to make up, but we would have been better off without those - the place we had to go to was some fusion of Peruvian and Chinese cuisines and given that we had no clue about Peruvian food, we tried to stick to the Chinese side, with some rather unappetizing results. The best part of our meal was the bottled water. There was more confusion as the promised flight time got closer, but we did manage to get away and arrived in Arequipa around 5pm. And thankfully, the hotel guy was there to pick us up and RD got quite a thrill from seeing his name on a chalk board. (We were greeted by the view of 'El Misti'  on the right just after landing.)


As we drove from the airport, my first impressions of the city were not very positive. It looked like a dusty little town with lots and lots of construction going on. Traffic was chaotic and it was hard to tell why any tourist would come there. All of sudden we realized (prompted by Pallavi) that a Hindi song was playing on the car stereo and we asked the driver to bump up the volume - sure enough, it was Runa Laila belting out some disco hit from the past (I forget the song now). Our moods brightened somewhat.

After checking in we headed out of our hotel in search of dinner and given the long day we had had, we settled on trying a place called 'Lakshmivan' which promised vegetarian fare. The name, decor, and menu suggested that the food might even be mildly Indian-inspired. It was a disaster. Perhaps the second-worst meal in our entire trip. The soups were thick with starch and my "fried rice" dish was under cooked rice liberally garnished with the strongest smelling basil leaves I have encountered, all chopped into tiny pieces. It was near impossible to eat, but I was really hungry. So I picked each little piece out and chewed my way through most of it. We did pick up tasty mangoes on the way back and enjoyed them and another local fruit in our room.

Day 2 was going to be a city tour that we had arranged with our hotel guy - a friend of his was going to take us around. We asked - does he speak English? Well, not very well, but enough to guide you. And he knows all the spots. We were a bit skeptical, but the price was good, so we agreed. The morning dawned early (Dec is the start of Summer there) and it was a beautiful day. Breakfast had an assortment of grains that we had not seen before - our first encounter with Quinoa was here. We left with our new guide and soon it was apparent that he knew no English. We started with the central square or 'Plaza de Aramas' - every Peruvian city and town has one - and the source of Arequipa's moniker 'The White City' was immediately obvious.
Almost all the construction is from bricks made out of volcanic ash, which has an off-white shade. Arequipa is surrounded by a chain of active volcanoes and as a result the land is very fertile despite it being very arid - geologically, it is an extension of the Atacama desert (in Chile). Arequipans consider their city the 'second-most' important city in Peru (after Lima) and it is clear that it is a town on the make - trying to compete for the tourist dollar, that in Peru mostly goes to Cusco/Machu Picchu. We visited a couple of grand churches - another legacy of the Spanish - and checked out several views of lush valleys ringed by white tinted volcanic mountains.
Later we visited a museum which had a total of two small rooms, both of which could easily fit in the average San Diego apartment. The city was not without its charms, but it still felt a bit a of stretch to qualify as a major tourist attraction - especially all the way from California. In our eagerness to make most of it, we peppered our guide with questions about the history of the place. Getting through was easier said than done - we had to rely on RD to translate and for some reason the answer to every question seemed to involve the 1500s. Sure, that time period looms large in the Peruvian imagination given the Spanish victory over the Inca king in 1532, but after a while it began to strain credulity. The guy meant well - he knew a few words of English and he tried hard to convey his thoughts with them, but the mental strain of trying to follow him started to tell on me and I would wander off taking refuge in my photography. At one point Malini came to me and whispered, "What is he saying? I can't understand a thing!" I consoled her that I had given up a long time ago. The tour ended with a late lunch back at our hotel.

After a short rest, we headed out to the Santa Catalina monastery on foot. We got there with just an hour to go for closing, but that was sufficient for a conducted tour. This is a cloistered convent that was started in 1580 and even today has some nuns living there, although most of it is open to the public. One interesting feature (at least from a photographic perspective) were its intensely colored walls. One would expect a devout and solemn air about a monastery, but such was not the case. Most of the stories were about the class levels that existed even within a place supposedly given up to the service of God and how almost everything was about money, power, and prestige.

After the tour, RD went off for a 'carne' meal that he had read about, while the rest of did some looking around. Eventually, we found a French place and had some mildly reasonable food. And so ended our second day in Peru. We had an early start the next morning, for we were heading to the Colca Canyon for a two day stay.

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