Friday, September 29, 2006

Art and Mangalore (+art)

Blue Flame by Liza BehrendtHere are two images that I created here in India, using crayons and paper, size about 18" by 24" I would guess. Thanks to Terry for taking the photos. These pictures will remain in Sathyamangalam, as Karuppusamy from READ, mentioned in the entry below called "A Few Projects," wants these for the office.

Orange and Blue by Liza BehrendtI have taken a jaunt to the west coast, on the Arabian Sea, a place called Mangalore. It is directly west of Bangalore and south of the famous Goa. So far so good, though I just arrived, on the night express. The train was super comfy in my AC Sleeper car, and I slept deeply for five or six hours after chatting with a lovely family, my traveling companions, who shared bananas and stories with me. We got in to Mangalore at 5:15am. I stayed in the station until it was light out so that I could walk by myself to find a hotel, rather than relying on booking services or rickshaw drivers. I struck it rich. For 300 rupees per night plus tax, about US$7 total, I am in complete comfort and style, and the brief, pouring rain happened just after I got inside. Plus there's this internet place in easy walking distance. God bless broadband.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Kotagiri (+photos)

Kotagiri is a hill station that I visited for a few days. I met a woman while taking a walk, and she invited me into her home. Her family spoke English well, and they were generous and kind. They gave us cuttings from their garden, including mint and something called tree tomatoe. My friend Terry took a bunch of photos that I have posted online, yipee!

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Bangalore & Mysore

The following message was added in early 2008: I have been meditating on whether to remove old postings. My perspective in some entries is that of "other" in the countries I was visiting. My orientation and voice have shifted a great deal. For the time being I have decided to leave all postings in the blog. Some of the postings in question have received praise over time, and some, although humbling now, do show what was real to me then. Please forgive any cultural insensitivities and United States Americanisms you may find. I am open to your feedback on this: send to lizabehrendt at yahoo dotcom. Thank you.


I went to Bangalore for a day. I got my computer fixed, walked around Lalbaugh Botanical Gardens with my new friend Janis, and enjoyed a bit of shopping in this mind bogglingly busy and speedily modernizing place. I am sure I inhaled the exhaust of hundreds of thousands of cars and motorbikes. They say that there are 700 new vehicles on the roads in Bangalore every day.

The gardens were my favorite. They transport you to somewhere, I don't know where, somewhere else. There are trees of many species from around the world there. I wore my churida for the first time all day yesterday, today too. I stayed overnight in an old folks home's guest room, set up by Janis because she's on their board of directors. A small, older, lively man with excellent English took care of me there, intermittently disappearing to watch a tennis match on TV, and I suspect imbibe a wee bit, in his room. I only met a couple of the residents, and they seemed happy there.

There was a great book store where I got a few mysteries, including a contemporary Indian writer's The Everest Hotel.

Now I'm in Mysore taking in a few sights, such as a Raj era palace, before heading back to Sathy. Photos are forthcoming.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

A Day of Activity

The following message was added in early 2008: I have been meditating on whether to remove old postings. My perspective in some entries is that of "other" in the countries I was visiting. My orientation and voice have shifted a great deal. For the time being I have decided to leave all postings in the blog. Some of the postings in question have received praise over time, and some, although humbling now, do show what was real to me then. Please forgive any cultural insensitivities and United States Americanisms you may find. I am open to your feedback on this: send to lizabehrendt at yahoo dotcom. Thank you.

I played cricket today, with ten neighborhood boys, aged about 8 to 15 years, and my buddy Ramya. The boys were healthy and well fed, for the most part, I sense I'm in a posh neighborhood. Later we ran running races. The oldest boy, whose English was excellent, guessed my age as 18. Bless his beautiful heart.

Later at my place, joined by four neighbor women, one holding 9-month-old Sachin, I learned Tamil dances ~ think Bollywood movies. It was vigorous and totally fun! They were great teachers and dancers, and it was easy to pick up their stylin' moves.

I also had my first solitary walk this afternoon. I had an appointment to observe an interview of a village girl, but at the last minute it was cancelled, because she wanted to go to a festival instead. I was able to sneak out therefore, and move my tall body on my own. It was heavenly to get out and walk forth in the world, unsupervised.

It is extremely challenging for me to get out on my own. I'm not allowed by Ramya, my 18 year girlfriend, to do anything like that without her. She's always itching for something fun to do, but I knew she was studying for exams and having lunch.

On the road people stared, as they typically do. I am an anomaly in so many ways. Today I had energy to smile, and mostly I got smiles back. A man on a rickety bicycle, the only kind you see, slowed and offered me a ride back to town. I would have had to perch sidesaddle on his rear bikerack. I declined, much preferring to walk, he persisted, I declined again, smiling, he hovered, and finally he rode slowly on without me. No English was exchanged, just names of towns as he tried to figure out from whence I came. His best guesses were Mysore and Bangalore, which made me chuckle, as those are like a hundred miles away. It would have been a long walk. I guess he hadn't heard about the tall foreigners in Sathy yet. Anyway as far as I know, that was the first time a man tried to pick me up in India.

I got lost coming back on my walk, missed the turn by the milk store I figure. I realized it some kilometer later, and made the best of it, feeling proud when I eventually came upon something I recognized, a sleeping pad store. I made my way back past the fruit shop, and stopped for a huge bagful of fruit, raisins, and veggies, for about US$2.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

A Few Projects

Here are a few things I'm working on:

  • phase one of a web page for a local NGO called READ (this is in draft form)
  • finding out about art schools here in India
  • scoping out the computer contracting situation here, for a few interested parties back home
  • learning about Indian sculptors

Monday, September 11, 2006

First week in Sathyamangalam


The following message was added in early 2008: I have been meditating on whether to remove old postings. My perspective in some entries is that of "other" in the countries I was visiting. My orientation and voice have shifted a great deal. For the time being I have decided to leave all postings in the blog. Some of the postings in question have received praise over time, and some, although humbling now, do show what was real to me then. Please forgive any cultural insensitivities and United States Americanisms you may find. I am open to your feedback on this: send to lizabehrendt at yahoo dotcom. Thank you.


Liza at Bhavani Reservoir I’ve been in India for a week, and it already seems natural to be here. I am comfortable and healthy in my new home in Sathyamangalam, a small town at the crossroads between Mysore, Coimbatore, Bangalore, and parts east in this southern state of Tamil Nadu. Home is a two-bedroom apartment in a four-story building with roof access that looks out over the town, much greenery, mountains and sky.

The neighbours have taken me under their wing, particularly a family of two daughters, mother, father and uncle. They keep me busy eating the many courses of food they bring daily. I am asked several times a day what I have eaten. So far this is endearing and interesting, as even the woman who cleans the floors asks me this. I’m told it’s a normal topic of conversation.

One day Ramya and Yemini, the neighbour girls, age 18 and 13 respectively, and their uncle and I went to an area that usually only villagers can go to, a nature and wildlife preserve. The uncle is the chief, hence entry. We rode comfortably for an hour or two up smooth mountain roads, expertly driven in a nice Jeep by a young man, and landed atop a flat area where doctors from nearby Coimbatore were giving free eye exams and glasses, a program of Lions Club International.

Several villagers that I saw would clearly have benefited by the free surgery they were offered, however, few would accept it. They were worried about the time it would take and missing work, but even more, they worried about organ trafficking. Perhaps they would come back with no eyes.

I have come to appreciate the constant honking of horns you hear from dawn on into the night. In the USA, horn honking to me sounds like more of reaction to a situation, something that says “F--- You.” Here it is a warning saying “watch out, don’t let me kill you.” I’m not of the illusion that value placed on life is higher here, I’m simply more tolerant of horn honking. It’s kind of sweet.

I'm making lots of pictures with crayons from home and paper bought locally for about 7 cents per sheet. The images are starting to get funky, a flow and influence of what's around me.