Thursday, February 17, 2005
"Server Not Found"
I expressly try not to do my blogging at work – I figure at least here in India I should try to maintain some facade of professionalism, if not at home. So on the few nights this week where I did not immediately pass out on the couch upon returning home, I have been trying to send more posts, but the blog site specifically keeps giving me the "Server not found" treatment (whilst my gmail is working just fine - hmmm). But I can't complain, b/c at least I have an internet connection here, and when it's not being finicky like this, it is certainly a good one. At least it’s better than what I seem to be getting at work (Applied Materials uses Lotus Notes, which is the very embodiment of craptacular when your mail is on an Austin server and you’re trying to respond to an email with any attachment >1MB – try waiting 5-6 minutes just to get the reply mail open and count how manhy hairs you pull out…) But this morning I have caught the bandwidth misers by surprise, so here goes.
Last weekend another of my fellow engineers from work - the esteemed Mr. Pralhad Ramachandra Joshi - graciously took me to see some really old temples here in Bangalore. Pralhad has been the second of my stalwart guides, with the first being Mr. Deepak Doddabelavangala (right - so I call him “Deepak D” - kinda like “Chuck D”, “Mike D”, or “Heavy D and Da Boyz”). Deepak was the one who kept me from ending up lost in the wilderness on my trip to Mysore, and who explained the history of Lal Bagh Gardens so I wouldn’t have to read all those boring signs. I thank them both, especially for taking time out of their weekends when these guys are working some mad hours over here. I am insisting that we just hang out for a half day so they can get back to their families– otherwise given the hours they are putting in, I’m worried that their families will forget who they are! But Deepak has assured me that he’d rather not be at home, since everyone there is just going to hound him about getting married. To this I had to explain that this is why the American custom is to move out of your parents’ home as soon as possible.
The first temple we visited was a shrine to Ganesha, and the second was a shrine to “the bull”. Each housed statues some 600+ years old. Pralhad explained that every animal in the world has a representative god, and that in fact the Hindu pantheon includes over 330 crore gods/superhumans. A crore happens to be about, oh, say, an easy 10 million. Yup. That's what I said. That’s 33 with eight zeros; 3.3 x 10^8; 11X the speed of light; "Warp 11"... (I cease my geek-dom). Clearly you can see that I couldn’t believe 330 crore so I asked Deepak to confirm that I heard this right – I thought, “maybe he meant 33 crore, because 33 crore would be sooo much easier to keep track of…”
I can go into detail about these shrines, but I will save that for the photo captions. While I've got a good connection, I want to get everything else out of my head here. So while these first temples were above ground, the one that interested me most was an underground temple, basically in a cavern. It seems this is common for Hindu temples, and inside everyone is sitting in this cavern no more than 4-5 feet to the ceiling, and to move about through the chambers you have to hunch over even further and squeeze through some serious 4’ x 2’ crevice action. Not a good time to be 6’ 1” and 215 lbs.
The central shrine at this temple was something out of fantasy. Of course by now you must realize that I would have taken a picture, but the sense of reverence in this temple, coupled with the fact that we entered during a time of service, made me think otherwise. There was that and the fact that as I did fiddle with my camera once, a man swiftly informed me that cameras were not allowed - so you'll have to live with my prose here.
First of all, people were not permitted into the room with the shrine (this was only for the priests, who would go in and out, chanting and making various offerings). The congregation was instead allowed to peer into the room through the small entryway (somewhat like you can see in the photos of the Ganesha shrine). But what you could see was awe-inspiring to behold. The room was dark, lit generally by candles from what I could tell, but there must have been something else b/c the room seemed to have a blueish glow to it. This could have been an effect of the smoke, as there was a lot of incense burning and everything inside was coated in a thin haze. Then there was the statue within - from my estimate it was maybe some 5' x 6' x 2' (?), and carved out of a dark stone, similar to the bull statues and Ganesha statues in the previous shrines I had seen that day. I could also see that it was adorned in several of the floral wreaths, and that this statue was of a humanoid figure. I’m sure Pralhad told me who it was, but I can’t remember at the moment and even if I could I can promise that I would misspell it. But possibly the eeriest thing about it was that you could only make out enough of its features to tease you. It was a silhouette with light catching it only here and there. It was like a good horror movie where you only get to see a few glimpses, just enough of the shadowy figure to keep you guessing until you finally see it at the end, with strobe lights flashing and drool oozing from its ferocious maw as it peels the flesh from the last of the quivering victims…Maybe if I'd moved closer I could have discerned more, but as I said, everyone was crowded along the sides of a roped-off path leading into the chamber. But you could feel the age from the shrine, and a certain sense of presence. Of all of the huge statues I have seen on this trip, it was this smaller statue nestled into the inner sanctum of this underground temple was easily the most impressive.
After seeing the underground temple, we visited Sultan Tipu's summer palace (when you're a sultan, it's just not cool to lord over one palace all year long - you have to flaunt your wealth around by building a palace for every season). This place was built at the end of the 18th Century and is another good example of the love of arches and columns in Arabic architecture. I've included a few pictures of the ceiling if only to show that it was hand painted and is still surviving. From there went to go see something a little more modern. This was the ISKCON temple, where ISKCON is the International Society for Krishna Consciousness. It’s ginormous. Basically there are some 180 (?) steps leading you up to the main temple via terrace after terrace, and along the way there are several shrines to key gods of that 330-gazillion pantheon. If you are making a pilgrimage to the temple, you are supposed to chant “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare” at each step. So I wonder what happens if you mess up? Seems like it would get all jumbled by maybe the fifth step… Do you have to start all over? A truly pious person would start all over I think…
One of the best things about this temple was that as you reached different terraces along the way, you could see over the whole city, and the breeze was refreshing in the heat (February is not cold over here, which is just fine with me). The main temple itself was a huge room with paintings of Krishna’s life all over the ceiling, much like you might see in a Catholic church, as in the Vatican. There was also a central altar to Krishna, as well as several statues of the ISKCON founder. But since I could not take in a camera, that’s right, it’s link time -> here’s a link all about the Hare Krishna movement and ISKCON http://www.iskconbangalore.org/. And here’s a multimedia tour of the temple -> http://www.iskconbangalore.org/contents/multimedia/index.html.
Like I said, the ISKCON temple was also more of a modern endeavor as it also included a long shopping area filled with religious texts, handicrafts, etc, and a buffet marketplace where you could taste all sorts of south Indian treats. I tried one item that was basically balls of dough (think of a spherical pancake) soaked in a heavy syrup – delicious, but you could also feel the 3000 calories of straight glucose right to the gut. I was especially impressed with one room where people could sit right down and talk one-on-one with one of the monks, and have all their questions answered. The monks each held a bag over on hand, inside of which they held their prayer beads which they were – I guess – continuously cycling and making prayers with one side of their mind while the other set these people straight!
As we left the temple I got to see the operation where ISKCON prepares huge cauldrons of hot food you might describe as a kind of vegetable-grain meal which they distribute by bus to the poor schools of Bangalore each day. I had some from a batch that seemed to be something along the lines of a corn-broccoli-spinach casserole (?) – okay I have no idea what it was – and in fact I’m sure it wasn’t made with anything I listed but instead some local vegetables of which I have no knowledge – but I can tell you that if you were to try to approximate this stuff using Del Monte and Green Giant, some niblet mexi-corn and minced broccoli would definitely be involved – what’s important was that it was hot and very tasty, with a sharp twang to it. But I think I was eating it wrong b/c all the people seemed to be trying all the could not to bust out laughing at me (of course the kids had no such restraint – “look at the stupid American over there” was written all over their faces) :D They were eating it with their hands (they serve it to you in a bowl made of pressed leaves, definitely the most recyclable thing I’ve seen in some time), but I was just cupping the leaf-bowl into a pitcher and knocking it back in sips (it was hot I tell you).
We proceeded to have lunch at an Afghan restaurant called Samarkand, where the atmosphere was exotic (stone walls/floors, everything served in copperware, everyone dressed in Afghan attire, low wooden tables), the food was deliciously heavy and rich (think twice the rich-ness of fettuccine alfredo), and… the power generator was on the fritz. The lights went out three times! Of course the lights have also gone out twice at my apartment – there’s a career here for anyone selling a UPS…
Last weekend another of my fellow engineers from work - the esteemed Mr. Pralhad Ramachandra Joshi - graciously took me to see some really old temples here in Bangalore. Pralhad has been the second of my stalwart guides, with the first being Mr. Deepak Doddabelavangala (right - so I call him “Deepak D” - kinda like “Chuck D”, “Mike D”, or “Heavy D and Da Boyz”). Deepak was the one who kept me from ending up lost in the wilderness on my trip to Mysore, and who explained the history of Lal Bagh Gardens so I wouldn’t have to read all those boring signs. I thank them both, especially for taking time out of their weekends when these guys are working some mad hours over here. I am insisting that we just hang out for a half day so they can get back to their families– otherwise given the hours they are putting in, I’m worried that their families will forget who they are! But Deepak has assured me that he’d rather not be at home, since everyone there is just going to hound him about getting married. To this I had to explain that this is why the American custom is to move out of your parents’ home as soon as possible.
The first temple we visited was a shrine to Ganesha, and the second was a shrine to “the bull”. Each housed statues some 600+ years old. Pralhad explained that every animal in the world has a representative god, and that in fact the Hindu pantheon includes over 330 crore gods/superhumans. A crore happens to be about, oh, say, an easy 10 million. Yup. That's what I said. That’s 33 with eight zeros; 3.3 x 10^8; 11X the speed of light; "Warp 11"... (I cease my geek-dom). Clearly you can see that I couldn’t believe 330 crore so I asked Deepak to confirm that I heard this right – I thought, “maybe he meant 33 crore, because 33 crore would be sooo much easier to keep track of…”
I can go into detail about these shrines, but I will save that for the photo captions. While I've got a good connection, I want to get everything else out of my head here. So while these first temples were above ground, the one that interested me most was an underground temple, basically in a cavern. It seems this is common for Hindu temples, and inside everyone is sitting in this cavern no more than 4-5 feet to the ceiling, and to move about through the chambers you have to hunch over even further and squeeze through some serious 4’ x 2’ crevice action. Not a good time to be 6’ 1” and 215 lbs.
The central shrine at this temple was something out of fantasy. Of course by now you must realize that I would have taken a picture, but the sense of reverence in this temple, coupled with the fact that we entered during a time of service, made me think otherwise. There was that and the fact that as I did fiddle with my camera once, a man swiftly informed me that cameras were not allowed - so you'll have to live with my prose here.
First of all, people were not permitted into the room with the shrine (this was only for the priests, who would go in and out, chanting and making various offerings). The congregation was instead allowed to peer into the room through the small entryway (somewhat like you can see in the photos of the Ganesha shrine). But what you could see was awe-inspiring to behold. The room was dark, lit generally by candles from what I could tell, but there must have been something else b/c the room seemed to have a blueish glow to it. This could have been an effect of the smoke, as there was a lot of incense burning and everything inside was coated in a thin haze. Then there was the statue within - from my estimate it was maybe some 5' x 6' x 2' (?), and carved out of a dark stone, similar to the bull statues and Ganesha statues in the previous shrines I had seen that day. I could also see that it was adorned in several of the floral wreaths, and that this statue was of a humanoid figure. I’m sure Pralhad told me who it was, but I can’t remember at the moment and even if I could I can promise that I would misspell it. But possibly the eeriest thing about it was that you could only make out enough of its features to tease you. It was a silhouette with light catching it only here and there. It was like a good horror movie where you only get to see a few glimpses, just enough of the shadowy figure to keep you guessing until you finally see it at the end, with strobe lights flashing and drool oozing from its ferocious maw as it peels the flesh from the last of the quivering victims…
After seeing the underground temple, we visited Sultan Tipu's summer palace (when you're a sultan, it's just not cool to lord over one palace all year long - you have to flaunt your wealth around by building a palace for every season). This place was built at the end of the 18th Century and is another good example of the love of arches and columns in Arabic architecture. I've included a few pictures of the ceiling if only to show that it was hand painted and is still surviving. From there went to go see something a little more modern. This was the ISKCON temple, where ISKCON is the International Society for Krishna Consciousness. It’s ginormous. Basically there are some 180 (?) steps leading you up to the main temple via terrace after terrace, and along the way there are several shrines to key gods of that 330-gazillion pantheon. If you are making a pilgrimage to the temple, you are supposed to chant “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare” at each step. So I wonder what happens if you mess up? Seems like it would get all jumbled by maybe the fifth step… Do you have to start all over? A truly pious person would start all over I think…
One of the best things about this temple was that as you reached different terraces along the way, you could see over the whole city, and the breeze was refreshing in the heat (February is not cold over here, which is just fine with me). The main temple itself was a huge room with paintings of Krishna’s life all over the ceiling, much like you might see in a Catholic church, as in the Vatican. There was also a central altar to Krishna, as well as several statues of the ISKCON founder. But since I could not take in a camera, that’s right, it’s link time -> here’s a link all about the Hare Krishna movement and ISKCON http://www.iskconbangalore.org/. And here’s a multimedia tour of the temple -> http://www.iskconbangalore.org/contents/multimedia/index.html.
Like I said, the ISKCON temple was also more of a modern endeavor as it also included a long shopping area filled with religious texts, handicrafts, etc, and a buffet marketplace where you could taste all sorts of south Indian treats. I tried one item that was basically balls of dough (think of a spherical pancake) soaked in a heavy syrup – delicious, but you could also feel the 3000 calories of straight glucose right to the gut. I was especially impressed with one room where people could sit right down and talk one-on-one with one of the monks, and have all their questions answered. The monks each held a bag over on hand, inside of which they held their prayer beads which they were – I guess – continuously cycling and making prayers with one side of their mind while the other set these people straight!
As we left the temple I got to see the operation where ISKCON prepares huge cauldrons of hot food you might describe as a kind of vegetable-grain meal which they distribute by bus to the poor schools of Bangalore each day. I had some from a batch that seemed to be something along the lines of a corn-broccoli-spinach casserole (?) – okay I have no idea what it was – and in fact I’m sure it wasn’t made with anything I listed but instead some local vegetables of which I have no knowledge – but I can tell you that if you were to try to approximate this stuff using Del Monte and Green Giant, some niblet mexi-corn and minced broccoli would definitely be involved – what’s important was that it was hot and very tasty, with a sharp twang to it. But I think I was eating it wrong b/c all the people seemed to be trying all the could not to bust out laughing at me (of course the kids had no such restraint – “look at the stupid American over there” was written all over their faces) :D They were eating it with their hands (they serve it to you in a bowl made of pressed leaves, definitely the most recyclable thing I’ve seen in some time), but I was just cupping the leaf-bowl into a pitcher and knocking it back in sips (it was hot I tell you).
We proceeded to have lunch at an Afghan restaurant called Samarkand, where the atmosphere was exotic (stone walls/floors, everything served in copperware, everyone dressed in Afghan attire, low wooden tables), the food was deliciously heavy and rich (think twice the rich-ness of fettuccine alfredo), and… the power generator was on the fritz. The lights went out three times! Of course the lights have also gone out twice at my apartment – there’s a career here for anyone selling a UPS…
# posted by Rob @ 11:28 PM 
