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[Kagus]

Car insurance?  In India?  You are weird.

I heartily suggest you find a good curry place though, the stuff's great.  I don't know of any places that will give you the kind of wonderful we're being served here, but you can at least get some idea if you go to a good Indian restaurant.

It's best if you're into spicy food, because curry will generally be at least somewhat spicy.  Here, it could go anywhere from "Sweet, not spicy" to "Help, my head is on fire!", but in the states they generally only serve the spicy-ish types (so far as I can remember, haven't been to an Indian restaurant in a long time).

But, if you find yourself in England, your luck in finding a good curry spot might be a bit higher.  Again, I don't know of any good British curry houses, but it shouldn't be too hard to find one.

No India updates quite yet.  Haven't done anything interesting today.  

Well, aside from a masterful mosquito death-swipe earlier...

EDIT:  Updates!

Well, today was interesting.  After spending some time randomly wandering around the apartment and drinking some very healthy tea, we went out to do some random wandering outside.

We got hungry around lunchtime (imagine that) and decided to head on over to the "Satyam Hotel", where we'd eaten the chapathis and parotas before. For a change from bread with curry, we ordered the "meal" (that's how it showed up on the menu) where we got a few different dishes of curry/chutney/other sauces, plus some crispy flatbread, plus rice (infinite refills).

Since the traditional way of eating is to use the fingers of the right hand (due to the inherent uncleanliness of the left hand), we decided we were going to eat with our fingers as well.  

It's amazing how much goes into eating something with your fingers properly.  I say properly, because there is apparently quite a bit of etiquette in eating with your hand, and the owner/head waiter was more than willing to stop by our table and give tips on how to eat his food.

I would also like to add how incredibly difficult it is to eat lumps of sauce-coated rice without making a total fool out of yourself.  Especially when half the patrons in the restaurant have turned their chairs around to get a better look at the foreigners.

Despite the various pitfalls of Indian dining manners, the food was absolutely wonderful.  Spicy sauces, savory sauces, sweet sauces, and yoghurt-like curd all contribute to making an exceptional meal.

The curd is supposed to be eaten last, as it is meant to soothe the mouth (basically just cool it down after the hot peppers) and settle the stomach for easier digestion.  And, since it came from a cow, it is inherently good for you somehow.

As I was putting some curd onto my last little lump of rice, the owner came over, noticed the apparently inferior amount of curd I was putting on, and told me to please put more on so that it would be healthy for me.  Apparently, half a spoonful of curd for about one and a half spoonsful of rice is not nearly enough.

It was then that I realised how Indians eat.  They don't really eat the bread or the rice, they merely use it to transport the curry or other sauces to their mouth.  The rice is supposed to be completely drowned out by the sambar, rasam, curry, dal or curd before it touches the lips.  Silly me.

After eating this lovely meal (each of the three dishes cost one dollar, plus tax) we went back to the apartment and sat around aimlessly for a while longer (I did a little reading in a Stephen King novel I brought along).

At some point in the afternoon/evening, the lighting was apparently well suited to taking photographs, so we went out for another walkabout to take some pictures.

We took some good pictures, and quite a few not-so-good pictures.  And then the light faded and we got hungry again.  Take a wild guess where we went.

So, we're back at the Satyam Hotel, and we want to have either the same or something different.  Things haven't quite been decided yet.

Having learned the names to some new Indian dishes (thank you, wikipedia), we looked in the menu to see if we could find any.  Having found two bread dishes (it was agreed upon that we'd all like some more bread), we asked for the first one.  Found out it was a breakfast bread, and not served in the evening. Asked for the second one.

And that's how we ate our first "dosa"s.  They're essentially non-sweet potato crepes, served with a soup-ish thing (hey, it came with a spoon.  It counts as soup) and a bowl of some spicy dip/sauce that we'd never had before.

After finishing the crepes, we were noticed by one of the kids we'd bumped into before a couple days ago, when we were passing by the playground/park that's next to our apartment building.  

Recognizing three pale-skinned blondes sitting in a room full of dark-skinned dark-haired Indians.  Pretty impressive.

Anyways, she invited us over to her house (insisted, really) for a visit.  So, we cleaned up and followed her and her friend (who I don't think was part of the original group that saw us) on the road to her house, which happens to be across the park from ours.

On the way, we met up with her mom (who we assumed had gone out looking for the girl as she was taking longer than usual to come back with the idli (rice/lentil cake, very popular) for her grandmother.

So, we're walking along, the girl is carrying her idli takeout bag and jabbering nonstop (in fairly good english), her mother is beaming silently and we're just trying to understand what all's going on so we can provide a halfway-sensible reply in good time.

So, we spend some time sitting around in her flat (which is only slightly rattier than our own), and the girl is translating for her mother and grandmother, neither of whom speak english.  The girl makes up for this though, by filling the air with as many things a six year old can think of to say to strange people like us, with occasional help from her little sister (who was the very girl who asked me whether or not I was a girl when we first encountered the group).

After the visit was over, my mom had earned the title of "auntie", my dad the title of "uncle" (everyone's an uncle in India...), and I was being given the various titles of "brother", "cousin", and even "hero".  I think the girl is infatuated with me or something.

Anyways, we've got pictures!  Not many good ones, but still...

Here's a picture of a fruit and vegetable stand that's across the street from our apartment building.  Haven't actually bought anything there yet, though...

Here's some abandoned mosque or temple that was sitting in the middle of everything:

This is a sugarcane press.  You run through a batch of cane, and then serve up the resulting juice to a waiting customer.

She was smiling and looking right at the camera, but then she got distracted by one of us...

And finally, a dosa with me eating it. (The other patrons started snickering when this picture was taken)

Would someone be kind enough to tell me what the picture cap is? I'd like to know so I don't have to think about going over the limit.

[ January 27, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]

[ January 27, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]

[ January 28, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]

[Kagus]

Today is monday, and my dad decided he might actually go off and do some work at the company he was sent down here to do something about.  Five days here and this is the first one he's doing what he was sent down here to do.

He's supposed to be working with the first shift of employees, which gets to the office at 6 AM and leaves at 2 PM.  So, he set the alarm on his phone, got up early, put on his work clothes, and set off.

Without his computer.

So, he calls back to the apartment, and says he forgot to bring his computer, and could we please bring it down.  So, my mom packs up the computer bag with the laptop, along with several other essential items that only mother would think to add in (just-in-case items, in other words).

She opens up the door, bag in hand, and there's the building owner/super (also the office building owner/super), a certain Satya Narayana Reddy (everyone in Hyderabad is named Reddy at some point in their names.  Proven fact).

Satya has been incredibly helpful in the days we've spent here, and has insisted on doing just about everything for us.  He arranged for us to get a stove, and helped install it in the kitchen, he bought drinking water and mosquito repellant for us, and has basically been tending to any and every need we may have.

So, naturally, he insisted on taking the bag down to the office.

Some time after he'd gone, my mom realised she'd forgotten something (some other essential item that needed to go into the computer bag), and called Satya on his mobile to ask him to come back.

A few seconds later, he's standing at our door again, bag in hand.  I swear, that guy runs when he does stuff for us.

Some time after 8:30 AM, my dad calls the apartment and says he's going out for breakfast, and would we like to come?  An offer of Indian food for breakfast.  Take a guess what we answered.

And then guess where we went for the food.  Yep, the Satyam Hotel.

So, we ordered what was basically the only other name on the menu that we remembered looking up, and that we hadn't eaten yet.  Puri.

Puri is a breakfast food, so we actually ordered something at the right time for a change (so far, we'd been eating breakfast for lunch and dinner, and possibly other tourist-mistake combinations).

Puri is wheat bread that has been deep-fried in either ghee (clarified butter) or vegetable oil, and then served as soon as it is finished so that the bread hasn't had time to release the stem that's built up inside it, so it's puffed to the size of a small sports ball.

Puri is also very, very tasty.

Pradeep was helpful as always, providing answers to our questions about how to properly eat what we were ordering (try tearing off pieces of a fresh tortilla and using it to scoop up runny sauces with only one hand, it ain't that easy).

I was still a little hungry after eating the puri, so I got an order of "idli" as well, just to see what that was like.  Idli is one of the most common dishes in India, and can be found just about anywhere you go.  It's a small rice and lentil cake, and is supposed to be very easy on the stomach, and thus good for people who are very old or were sick recently.

Eating your way through India is an entirely acceptable and highly recommended way of spending time down here.  And don't let your mind worry about your waistline, because regardless of how much you eat, you will get slimmer by the day.  Pradeep says you only get fat in India if you eat lots of potatoes, the buttered, greasy and deep-fried foods do absolutely nothing (according to him).

[Capntastic]

Those pictures are really nice.   You'd better enjoy yourself enough for the rest of us who can't travel!

[Kagus]

Don't worry, I'll try my best.

Just got back from some running around, which was started by a call from the airline we flew in on.  Apparently, they finally found our luggage, the one suitcase that we packed with all our extra clothes and such that didn't arrive when we did (hey, only five days, that's not bad).

Since we were out, we decided to go and grab lunch at the same time.  Since Pradeep was with us (driving us), we asked him where we should eat.

He drove us over to an Indian theme buffet restaurant, where we had some fine Indian food of several kinds, including roasted and spiced cauliflower, some sort of semi-sweet tomato soup (drunk from a cup, rather than a bowl), "dal" (lentil soup/stew/paste, often served alongside breads or rice as a dip/sauce), plus the standard fare of tasty but unpronounceable Indian foods.

Once we had eaten our fill, Pradeep introduced us to one fo the many kinds of desserts around here.  Essentially, they were little deep-fried flourballs that had been soaked in syrup.  I didn't have any, as I was too full and didn't really feel like piling something syrupy sweet on top of the other food.

And then, some time after that, something strange.  Pradeep had a little chat with one of the waiters, and soon a platter with three wrapped leaves with toothpicks stuck through them arrived.

We asked him what these things were, and he gave an answer that amounted to "DAJEI" (Don't Ask, Just Eat It).  So we did.

That is the first food-type item in India I have eaten and not enjoyed.  It made up for lost time.

That thing was easily one of the most foul culinary experiences I have ever had the displeasure of having.  After the initial shock of having the foul and quite unexplainable taste of the mixture, my tongue went almost completely numb.  This made it impossible to clean out the slightly sharp wad of half-chewed "stuff" that had managed to lodge itself behind my now-useless tongue.

My mouth experienced a sort of "static", wherein almost nothing was tasted, but there was a mild sense of some taste or another hovering around.  What comes to mind to describe this is my mouth going into shock and ceasing to function.  However, this was not the case, as every now and then that horrible flavor would now and again pop up into my tongue's remaining consciousness.

Some time into chewing this filth (on top of everything else, it took a lot of chewing), we asked Pradeep what it was called.  He responded "Paan".

He went on to talk about how it's a very special item, and how lots of people get somewhat addicted to it and will chew it for most of the day.  I have absolutely no clue how they manage to get addicted to something so foul.

Even after I thought I had defeated the evil thing, it had the last laugh.  I apparently hadn't chewed a lump of it enough, so it got stuck somewhere in my piping.  I can still feel it sitting there, chuckling away at my inability to conquer it, as I write this.

But wait, there's more.  I decided to do a little looking around on the net to see what exactly it is they put in this stuff (not even Pradeep knew for sure).  Turns out, it's a mixture of various spices, sugar, fruits, and sometimes tobacco wrapped up inside a the leaf of a Betel plant.

Both Betel leaf and tobacco are known carcinogens to humans, and apparently, when they are combined, the risk of cancer doesn't simply add up, it multiplies.  So, after all that wonderful food, we left the restaurant with a bad taste in our mouths.

And all the while, we had to put on brave faces for the beaming Pradeep, who thought he'd given us the treat of a lifetime.  

Well, it was the treat of a lifetime.  I'm never having another one while I'm alive, that's for sure.

And on top of all that, they're damn expensive.

So, after that lovely little check on the list of things experienced in this life, we went on to do some shopping.  Shoes and books.  We needed some sort of light shoes to wear around the apartment (our shoes are too dirty and uncomfortable to wear around the apartment, and the floor is too dirty to walk around barefoot for too long), and we needed books because I was the only one who brought a book along for the trip (Stephen King's "Rose Madder"), and both my parents have already read it.  And remember it.  And after five days, I'm two thirds through it.

Let's just say, we needed more books.

Anyways, here we are again.  Back at the apartment where we can complain about that horrid Paan (it really was bad enough to deserve all these comments, trust me) without offending anyone, and just sit around and relax from the events of the day.

At the airport earlier, where we picked up our little suitcase, we were stopped by a police officer on our way out.  He started doing a rundown, asking for anything a cop would have authority to check (license, insurance, so on), and everything was checking out until the pollution test papers came up.

Apparently, the car we were driving in (someone in the office had offered up his car so Pradeep could drive us around) hadn't had a checkup recently, and the smog test papers had expired.

Weeeell now.  Now the cop had something he could work with!  So, he started talking to Pradeep about the very serious matter of an expired pollution test checkup (I can only assume.  I don't speak Telugu), so Pradeep handled it the way you handle it with every time one of India's finest stops you for something.

He pulled out his wallet and handed him 200 rupees.

The cop said his thanks, and wandered off.  According to Pradeep, the only reason a police officer will ever stop you for something is because he wants some cash.

Considering the government demands fees for common misdemeanors as high as 2,000 rupees, paying the cop 200 rupees isn't that bad a deal.  

Instead of listing the converted prices of everything, I'll just tell you the rough exchange rate between U.S. Dollars and Indian Rupees.  One dollar = Forty rupees.

Stopped by a cop?  Pay him five bucks.

Just another day in India.

[Fenrir]

If the "picture cap" your taking about is the amount of pictures allowed per post, the cap is eight. I don't know about any other restrictions.

[Kagus]

Ah, thank you.  That's what I wantd to know.

I'll get around to using it when we get some passable photos.

For now, here's a photo of the one man in Hyderabad who doesn't smile when a camera is pointed at him.

I'm going to assume that expression is not very good for the flower-selling business...

[Nite/m4re]

Is just me who can't see the pictures? Only a red X here...

EDIT: Seem to be fixed now. Haha, sugar cane juice. Lots of these here in Brazil, usually sold along with enchiladas  

[ January 28, 2008: Message edited by: Nite/m4re ]

[Kagus]

Today has been relatively uneventful.  My dad went off to work, we met him at the Satyam Hotel for some breakfast, along with two other guys on the morning shift who had tagged along.  The breakfast we had (I can't remember the name of it right now...) was yet another bread meal, with the same two sauces served with a couple other bread types (still very good, but I was expecting some new things).

We've spent most of the day sitting around and reading.  I've been posting on the forums extensively (as anyone who's been watching the forums today can attest...), and basically not doing anything interesting or important.

Later in the evening, when we were headin gout to dinner, something vaguely interesting happened.  We bumped into the girl we had talked to before (not sure how she spells her name, but it's pronounced DEE-dya), and this time we actualy had the camera so we got to take the pictures we said we'd take of her (I'll put them up later on when they get uploaded to the computer).

A group of boys that had been playing in the playground she was in noticed us, and through various faces and antics practically insisted we take pictures of them, too.  The girls wanted to see their pictures after we had taken them.  The boys were content with the knowledge that they had had their picture taken.

After that, we went to the M.G. Inn (where we had the Manchurian and the Biryani), and ordered the usual (read: what we could pronounce).  We also ordered a curry dish, just to find out how it tasted.

Rule of thumb for Indian cuisine:  It probably tastes good.

It did.

I think the waiter was a little bit happier since we had ordered slightly more food.  As it stands, we've been ordering the standard amount of food for one person, and sharing it between the three of us.  We get plenty of food (sometimes more than enough, my mom couldn't finish her plate), but it still stumps the waiters that we can survive by eating so little.

We'll have to take a picture of it sometime, just to give you some idea of how much food they're giving us, and then coming back and asking what else we want afterwards.

Soo...  Yeah.  That's about it.  Pretty exciting, eh?

[Kagus]

Uggh.  This day has not been a pleasant one.

My dad's been trying to kick whatever infection he's got going down in his lungs, and decided to work from the apartment so he could stay here and rest up a little.

The only times we've been outside the apartment today have been when two guys from the office popped by and informed us that they'd set up a doctor's appointment for my dad, and that they should go now (nice service, but a bit strange having someone show up at your door and inform you that you've got an appointment), and when my mom went out to do some simple groceery shopping.  I haven't been out at all.

We cooked up a simple rice dish (not exactly enthralling, especially when compared to the things we've been ordering lately), and have just been taking it easy.

I was taking everything in stride, when all of a sudden (really, all of a sudden.  Absolutely no warning beforehand), at the end of lunch, I started to get dizzy.  My head eventually stopped spinning, but I've been a bit off-balance and on the verge of downright diziness ever since.  So now I've got a reason to take it easy for a bit...

Anyways, I've got a bowl of ramen noodles that's calling my name, and I don't want them to get cold on top of everything else today.  G'night, all.

[Nos3y]

Whats the curry like over there? Is it a brown sauce or yellow? I live in the British Virgin Islands, so we usually get ourselves some yellow curry for our Rotis (Usually Guyanese or Trinidad). I love me a good roti...with chicken...oooh yeah...Its past noon, I think I'll go make me one

[Fishersalwaysdie]

Wait a minute...
India Fortress (Adventure Mode)!?
Watch out for giant cave spiders!

[Kagus]

Well, the curry here is just about anything.  It's been brown, red, white, yellow, and combinations of those.

"Curry" here basically just means "Sauce" (according to Wikipedia, it translates to "Gravy", which seems a bit odd), so there's a very wide variety.  That, plus the various dals and chutneys makes a rather huge assortment of things to put on your rice.  Breads are generally served with only two dishes, a curry and sambar.

For breakfast breads like the puri and dosa, it's been a thick white sauce that's slightly spicy (in the way horseradish is spicy).  For other breads...  I don't really remember...  Guess it's been too long.

We're probably not going to be doing too much again today.  I'm still a bit off-kilter, but my head's getting better.  My dad is still coughing like a madman and his voice sounds like he's trying to talk through a cup of yoghurt, so it's going to be a while yet before he's in full form.

India's probably still interesting, it's just that we're not doing anything about it.  Being sick really ain't conducive to adventuring, I hope that's considered before Toady implements diseases...

As for the spiders, I'll just have to keep away from any vertical caves I find in the middle of nowhere.

[Kagus]

Welp, at least we did something today.  Around noonish we got a bit peckish, and decided to go out and look for something to chow down on.  We'd heard about a new place from one of the guys at the office (his job is to sit at an empty desk for most of the day, and wait for something to happen), so we went off in search of it.

However, after a quick look around, we couldn't find it in the alleged location, so we went to the M.G. Inn instead.  Didn't take much persuasion to change course, I can tell you that much.

And so it was that we sat down and decided to order something different for a change.  We still ordered the biryani, manchurian, and curry, but this time it was a cashew curry. Vive la difference.

Frankly, the standard curry tasted better.  The cashew (spelled "kazu".  "Z" is pronounced "djz", so if we were to feel the desire to go to a zoo, we'd be visiting the jew to look at animals) curry was good, but it just wasn't up to our recently-set standards.

And then we went back to the apartment after the immense exertion of walking a couple blocks over and then sitting down and eating.  *Phew*, I'm still tired.

Everything was going along peachily (I even installed DF on this machine because I figured its entertainment value would last longer than that of the books we picked up.  After all, there are only so many pages to a book), when we heard a stern ring on our doorbell (the thing is too damn loud.  Spooks the hey out of me if I'm not paying attention).  We open the door to find a few men bickering with each other in Telugu, and one of them turns and starts talking to us in english.

He wants to know who we're paying the rent to.  My dad says that the company is paying for the apartment, and so he doesn't know.  The men in the background roll their eyes and go back to arguing.  The man asks  again who we're paying the rent to, and it takes a while before we can convince the group that we don't know, and that we haven't done anything wrong.  They eventually leave in a bit of a huff.

We try to figure out what's going on, and call around asking questions with the various office folk.  And then, Satya comes to the rescue.  Again.

Turns out, the people who stayed here before us recently moved to Malaysia.  But not before taking out a rather sizeable loan from the bank.  The men were from the bank, wondering where their money was.

So that was it.  The bank was looking for its money and tracked down the last address of the loan customers, which just happened to be the apartment we currently occupy.

And so, Satya cleared matters up and made everything better again.  That guy really has been a tremendous help during our stay here.  He even drove halfway across town to pick up two blankets for us from the superstore because we were getting cold at night.

Heck, he even asks if we've been eating enough lately.

And so, this night comes to a close with me having eaten another bowl of India ramen noodles (I swear, they put curry spices in the flavoring packet) and leading a human adventurer to glory.  The first non-colossus non-demon adventurer I have ever started who lasted past his first cave.  

G'night, all.

P.S.
By the way, if anyone was wondering, my dizzy sickness has passed.  I'm still not sure what it was, but I'm glad it's over so I can walk in a straight line again.

EDIT:  Oh, hey.  Just thought of how to make curry in DF.  Quarry bush leaves are the only item in the game that count as "spice", so if you wre to make a quarry bush leaf stew, you could pretend it was curry.  Or, if you prefer, "qurry".

[ January 31, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]

[Kagus]

Didn't get an update up yesterday, we had a blackout and the network was being moody, so I couldn't even connect to the net.

Not like there was a whole lot going on, mind you.  Just the standard going out to eat (tried a couple new types of dosa, with some very nice results) and various nonsense.

However, there were a couple points of interest.  For instance, we had a parade marching past on the street nearby, which was essentially an effigy (or casket, couldn't be sure...) surrounded by drummers and followed by a large procession of random people who were just walking behind.

Now, the traffic around here is a bit edge when things are going smoothly, but add in a slow-moving procession walking down the street and now the horns really start up.  They eventually move over to the side of the road, to help move things along.

This was after another mini-parade of a trumpeter (I'm not sure if he'd actually been practicing or not...  Didn't sound like it) leading a very highly decorated cow (with impressively colored horn extensions that had bells on top.  The cow menaced with spikes of horn) down our street, playing all the while. Unfortunately, we didn't get the camera in time, so the only picture we have is of the cow's rump.  Not very exciting.

And then, while we were walking back from lunch, another parade.  Well, in a sense...

A herd of cows was trudging its way down the main road here, and was even going in the wrong direction (U.S. cows, not used to driving in the left lane...?).  Only a few motorists honked at them, what with them being so important and whatnot.

And then there's today.  Oh, glorious today.  My dad's getting much better, and I've just gotten a new fever.  Guess it's my turn to be sick now.  Again.

I've got the fever aches (which make sitting in this rather poorly-designed chair even less comfortable), a cough, and "something" on my right side that hurts like hell whenever the skin there is pulled tight.  Like, for instance, when I cough.

India would be so much more enjoyable if I could actually enjoy it...  And then you might actually have something interesting to read here, instead of the current drivel about what we've been eating and how many mosquito bites I have on the right side of my left foot (11).

[Kagus]

Not much interesting to add for today.  Ate food (after a few tries we actually ordered something that was okay to eat at that time.  The Satyam Hotel is kinda picky about when you eat what), played DF, felt slightly better from yesterday (now my nose is giving me the most trouble), ate again (spicy food does not stop one's nose from leaking, but it does make you feel better), read some Stephen King (Rose Madder is long finished, been reading "Desperation"), and now it's time to prepare for the night.

Whee.  I can barely contain my excitement.

On a lighter note, the people here really crack me up.  They are not in the least bit shy, and feel perfectly fine staring at your strange appearance or coming up and informing you of some local custom (we got advice on tipping waiters after leaving Satyam).  The kids are even more open, and will follow you around in a little pack and say "Hi!" from time to time.

We were trying to buy some flowers from a vendor who looked remarkably like Samuel L. Jackson, only with half the teeth and a cool temper.  He barely spoke any english (could repeat what we said perfectly though), when some random bystander came up and started to translate for us (his english wasn't much better than the vendor's.  He was very enthusiastic though).

It's quite entertaining to be so interesting, actually.