Thoughts on People

Throughout our two months at Visthar, Ambryn and had moments here and there when we grew a little anxious to get on the road. Some of our days felt a little 9-5 monotonous when we knew (unexplored) India was just out there, beyond the Visthar gate. However, we've continually been affirmed that our time there provided us with such a good foundation for our travels. We acclimated to India, reminded ourselves how the bus systems work, and had so many people on hand to process, or theorize, with about what we were encountering. We've met some really great people on the road (and here in Dharamsala, the home of the Dalai Llama, there are a lot of good people), as you always do, but we still certainly miss our friends in South India.

I could go on and on about all of them, but I thought I’d write about some of the other characters we met during our time in Bangalore. Our friend Lyola’s husband, Edison, just left his job as the chief correspondent at the Bangalore branch of the Times of India to become the editor of the Chennai (Madras) branch. This expansion makes it the biggest newspaper in the world! Edison has lived almost his entire life in Bangalore and is so knowledgeable about the city. Bangalore was largely a British city, the reason it has so many good private schools, beautiful colonial houses, etc. It was known as “the garden city” and as a “pensioner’s paradise” up until the information technology boom that happened after India began privatizing the economy (and Bangalore ended up as the hub because of it's good climate). Now, the city is drowning under its’ own expansion and uncontrolled growth. (Though the South side, which is mostly upper caste Hindu families, is quite posh. When we visited for the first time and I was awed. Oddly, it reminded me of some of the neighborhoods in South Minneaoplis, except tropical and with lots of cows in the street.) Not that many years ago the climate was ideal, but so many trees have been cut down and it has become much warmer. It’s sad. Edison has told us stories about streets his father was forbade to walk on (as an Indian) before independence. He’s also pointed out the pub in which Winston Churchill has an outstanding tab.

Edison’s grandfather was the chief in his village in Tamil Nadu, and they owned the biggest house in the area. When Gandhi (known here as Gandhiji, a term of respect and affection) stayed in their home when he traveled through during the salt march. Edison’s father was born in that same house.

We were fortunate enough to attend the 65^th wedding anniversary party of Visthar’s director, David’s, in-laws. His father-in-law was a general in the Indian Army, and began his career before independence. He has lived all over India, and seen a lot. He was a friend of India’s last viceroy. He tells the story of when Mahatma Gandhi was shot. Apparently, when the viceroy heard the news, he took a drink, and went on the radio to make an announcement. He said, “Mohandas Gandhi, the father of the nation, has been shot. By a Hindu.” He said if he had not said the second part, blood would have flowed through every street in India.

David’s in-laws are very classy people. They own a beautiful home in what was once the outskirts of the city. There is a huge, sprawling mango tree in their front yard. There are vegetable gardens, flowers, and a wide, green lawn. Their house is one of the last left, as most have been leveled and replaced with apartment buildings. Though you can still sense the peace that the British must have felt when they built the tree-lined street. One of the guests we spoke with is the father of an ambassador living in the U.S. During the course of the evening we drank beer, chatted, ate good food, and sang old songs from the 1930s. The evening ended with us singing “Amazing Grace” for the octogenarian couple, as a blessing.