The Road to Mysore

Let me first say this: I will never again complain about traffic in the Bay Area.

There was a traffic jam getting out of the bus station, despite there being an office clearly labeled "Traffic Control Booth." In all fairness, however, the lights were turned off and the blinds were closed, which should have been a warning sign.

The traffic jam continued for roughly the next 30 km.


I met another American on the bus who'd been in the country for five years. He explained that Indian traffic should be considered a metaphor for the country's history in general: India has roughly 850 million people, dozens of religions and scores of languages--everyone's trying to get somewhere, somehow, on something. That I witnessed no accidents or fatalities seems to indicate there's maybe something to this.

As one gets farther away from the city center, things become less organized. Someone is carving out a living in every space and way imaginable. They sell flowers or fruit or used bicycle tires. Along stretches of road women were literally sweeping the middle of the highway, buses and scooters whizzing past them.

Occasionally--or more--one passes a temple. I know practically nothing about Indian religion, except that there's a lot of it and, judging by the locked gates and scaffolds, most of it is closed or under construction. It's also integrated more or less like any town in America, in that one passes a variety of shrines, temples or mosques only a few blocks from each other.

Then something like this reminds you that the Puritans never effectively settled this region and maybe a little more pageantry could be in order back home.










At one point we passed an enormous billboard advertising "Fast Food Vegetarian - 1 km." Because the bus was a TED charter, and we'd been on the road for two-and-a-half hours (covering 65 km in that time), the driver made a stop. Always good to have someone available to order for the group. And the coffee was outstanding.

Finally, we arrived, four hours and 100 km after we left. For the conversion-challenged, that averages to about 15 miles an hour. A shower never felt so good.

So now it begins...