One big day..

I've had no time. It's like one long day with a nap inbetween. For broadcasts, we get up at 330am. I've posted some photos to facebook, and video clips.

The Old Delhi Spice Market

Day 3 - Testing the Dish, Practice, Prep, and more Testing

Alex, Reuben, and I picked up Darin at the Hyatt and headed to the Teleport. Our dish was already set-up by Essel Shyam on the roof. Nothing can defend the heat. We tested for awhile, then pizza and a tour. This teleport outputs more television stations than any other in India, 48 to be exact. Flat screens mesmerized us with all the programming. Some shows exactly mimic US Tv…

Fast Forward – Day 9 Already!? Feels like weeks.

Whew, I can’t keep up daily because we’re working too much, or eating, or editing video.

It’s 10:30 am. I’ve showered, shaved, and we transmitted our 2^nd broadcast at the Ohkla Mari fruit and vegetable wholesale market. It seems like days have past yet this one is not half over. The liveliness was incredible. Going through the front gate is a gauntlet of tank-like men carting burlap sacks on their backs. I was looking at this teenagers backpack, also sewn burlap. It was flat in the middle and came down to a block of wood and sack at the bottom. I thought it was just a cool backpack, something you could take a small lunch in for a hike. It didn’t represent fun at all, the wood and packed pouch was really to keep the heavy vegetables they’re lugging from sliding down their backs. They would just balance them, hunch over, and go. We had to be careful not to get a corner full of onions in the head. I was told they make 5 rupees per carry. It’s 45 rupees to the dollar.

We feel good such a chaotic broadcast was pulled off. We stressed and waited after arriving at 3am because two big trucks were parked in our promised spot. The parking master, a Muslim man about 45 years with a long white beard and white traditional garb, found one driver sleeping on top of the truck, but couldn’t find the other. At this hour the market is already awakening with deliveries and set-ups. Yesterday we negotiated with the master for an area. Nothing is guaranteed in India and changes by the rupee-second. That means you can get anything you want at any time, for the price. A man who appeared to be some boss scuttled up to Phil and Darin yelling and screaming, protesting our presence. No one really knew what it was about, but he was visibly angry. We scrambled for a backup location outside the wall. Not ideal because it smelled of urine, but we were up and live on-time at 6:30, but not without unseen disaster.

Our Honda generator we brought from the US conked. Five people worked on it but nothing happened. Phil and Darin rushed again. It was fouling the plugs with the bad gas, and we bought high-octane. Our back-up was a power converter from the cig lighter in the van. The first van’s died after 20 minutes. We switched to our other van, but hooked up jumper-cable clamps directly to the battery. Poor Alex, the van’s exhaust faced our home base and he had to smell fumes during the broadcast. He said it was better than the urine. That’s the nature of these productions, prepare as much as possible, but have a back-up. In Orlando while testing, we never thought we would use the jumper-cable connectors.

Indians are a curious people. We, especially Dawn, get a lot of looks. They will just watch us intently, not shy at all and generally polite. Since there is so many, we are surrounded frequently. The boys and girls just hang out, shadowing our every move. In the market I made friends with some teenagers and twenty-somethings. Dawn would walk by them and dozens of little heads would track her. Some would make comments to their friends. Walking a few feet behind here, the attention then came my way. I would gesture toward her, then give them a thumbs-up. They would crack up laughing. One kid, about 17, said, “Your wife?” I said, “No” He said, “Your sister?” “No… YOUR wife”, I said. He pointed to his chest, “My wife?!”. “Yeah, you marry her, your wife”, I replied. He was holding his stomach laughing so hard.

A few minutes later we walked through the covered part of the market. A string hung down from a worn and tired blue tarp. I jokingly started wiggling it on the heads of people passing by to create some more goodwill with the kids at a jackfruit stand. I tickled Dr. Rani’s ear and she waved her hands all around as if to swat a fly. They were dying laughing.

Day 2 - Smacked in the Face with Delhi

Reuben and I barely napped at so we ventured out on a walk at 5:30 am, 8 pm the previous night in the US. We’re nine and a half hours ahead here. After passing through the guarded gate, we chose to go left knowing there was a busy area called Connaught Place nearby. Delhi immediately jumps on you. The heat is like a sweater with a bigger sweater over it. Even in the early morning the streets are chaos with people, bikes, cars, motocycles, auto-rickshaws, dogs. The list goes on. The beggars won’t leave you no matter what you say. I would be broke early if I obliged. Plus, you have to be careful because giving to one can draw a crowd.

There are people everywhere! Sleeping on mounds of dirt in the construction sites, parks, sidewalks, trees, anywhere. But we’re almost in the center of the city and there were also a few middle-class morning joggers. A boy passed with a shirt that read “Build Your Empire”. The saris really are beautiful. The traditional dress pops all over the city in dozens of bright colors like people fireworks. They stream by as the rear seat passengers of motocycles and scooters. Sometimes there are a few kids tacked to the gas tank as well.

We got lost but ended up in a wide-open area and in the distance noticed India Gate, a famous landmark. Some interesting building stood in the opposite direction so we headed towards it. We also had to keep in mind our 7:30 am team meeting. We chose wisely because the something interesting was the President’s home, similar to the White house. It’s a huge complex that rests higher than the surrounding area. It’s where an Indian Rocky would have run. There were very little people around at this hour. In fact, we were the only foreigners in the area. We were told, “Sir. No entry.” twice and kept poking around where we could.

A small crew and beautiful Indian woman were shooting some movie, or more likely a video of some sort. They bounced the morning light with a reflector on her and a male actor. Perhaps it was a soap opera. While they waited for some guards to pass, I approached and asked if I could take a picture. Loving the limelight, she smiled and said yes, then immediately realized she should ask her director first and turned to him. The men were all just sternly staring at me.

We returned to the hotel breakfast: porridge, white toast, jam, butter, traditional idli and sanbar, eggs, tea with steamed milk. All together, a good meal to get us going. We had a meeting with the other players in the project at the Hyatt Regency at 10 am. After a 15 minute taxi ride, which is inarguably the arch nemesis to an ADD cure, we arrived at the front gate to a palace. Let the spoiling begin. The gauntlet of car bomb mirrors and metal detectors put us in 5-star luxury land. Tracstar Cobam keeps their India office HQ on the 3rd floor with their own staff and business center. In the conference room we met the India contingent. Phil and Alex showed them the video I made of our Bermuda trip. They actually applauded at the end and then I woke up.

Was lunch going to be some local delicious Indian food after the meeting? No way, Sanjay. We dine at the glorious Hyatt buffet today. All of the salad, hot, cold, nan, traditional Indian, desert, and smoothie stations were tended to accordingly and we feasted to kick off the hard work ahead. Darin A. told us we also get to use the pool when some cool-off downtime calls. With the heat that may be impossible, but this hotel may be hiring porters to carry down ice from the Himalayas to chill the water.

Word on the street was that Connaught Place is a popular area. For dinner, we hit a small, local diner next to the McDonald’s for dosas and black currant ice-cream desert. Both were tasty and better yet, no one keeled over with any stomach pain.

JJ: Here’s 20 Rupees, just give me five (fare is 11.80).
He takes my money and holds it.
Rick Driver: Ok, fine sir.
JJ: No, I need change, 5 rupees.
Rick Driver: It’s fine sir (head bobble).
JJ: Look I’m giving you a tip, even. I gave you two ten’s!
Rick Driver: It’s fine sir.
JJ: No give me change. Give me change, I give you tip.
Crowd gathers, and yells a bunch of things at the driver. He starts to give me a ten but changes his mind.
I was arguing the 30 cents for fun and leave. They will always say they don’t have change.

Time to rest because tomorrow is a big day at Essel Shyam, the Indian teleport that is giving us the bandwith for the transmission.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Day 1 - Orlando to Newark to Delhi

When I arrived at the Orlando airport, Alex noticed my suitcase and said, "Travelling lightly I see, way to go bro." I saw he had a larger suitcase. I didn't think much of it, until he put it up on the scale. It clocked in at a svelte 75lbs, weighing more than any of our equipment luggage we were checking. It seems he decided to bring his apartment. I listened for a 'meow' wondering if his cat came along. The black brick was even over the allowable limit, so some shoes and batteries became gifts to put in our bags. He paid the $50 overcharge and we all headed to our gate. Alas, some of the weight was candy for the little children of India.

Security was almost a breeze considering we were carting the techie gear. Phil, Dr. Rani, Dawn, Alex, and I made it through like warm ghee. And then there was Reuben. He followed orders and was escorted over to the TSA booth. But I'm almost sure they stopped him for his tuxedo printed T-shirt. It even has red jewel buttons. They asked him if he was going to be sitting in first class.

On the flight to Newark, a ten year old, Jake W., sat next to me. He was very sleepy. His head appeared on my shoulder once. I tried not to move too much so the kid could rest. But mostly he attempted to lay on his sixteen-year old brother to his right. When not sleeping, they played and joked around with each other during the flight. You could tell they were a close family. Jake's dad, Dr. John W., was going to India to present research findings for his NSF funded project about aircraft mounted lasers that recently mapped the Mayan ruins. Inarguably, lasers mounted to sharks would be better use of government money, but the data did find some incredible new discoveries like hidden ruins not previously known to archeologists. And that almost all of the land where the Mayans lived was stepped for agriculture. Coincidentally, Dr. W is a UCF biology professor who was Phil’s first choice to be our talent for this trip. He told Phil he was busy, because of his own trip to India, and to ask Dr. Rani.

Dr. Rani is our highly educated Hindu ethno-botanist, talent leading the broadcasts, and vegetarian. She politely asked the woman wheeling the cart down the isle for a vegetarian option. I thought all flight attendants were as polite as the English, but Cheryl was rude like sandpaper. “We don’t have vegetarian. What? I can’t hear you.” she said. Dr. Rani took the Turkey sandwich meal and ate the carrots and bread.

Newark airport. I’m sipping a Dos Equis and crunching Fritos in the Continental Airlines President’s club lounge with Darin A. He is our man from Tracstar Cobham, the Orlando company that has graciously provided their portable satellite dishes for Utah, Bermuda, and now India. They have some nice perks, so we are taking in some last-minute luxurious calm before the curried storm.

The 14-hour flight went something like this… Taxi to runway. screaming baby. take off screaming baby. free headphones. look at in-flight movies. flight map. read book. play Spanish game. talk to Indian man. start watching Gandhi. fall asleep. continue Gandhi. fall asleep. paneer dinner (spicy). continue Gandhi. browse TV channels. watch Ganges documentary about Tigers. read book. bathroom. read book. sleep. begin Duplicity. turn off Duplicity after 10 mins. (bad). sleep. snack. watch full moon rise out window. take pictures of moon. read. breakfast. begin Paris J’taime. put seat in upright position. look at lights of Delhi. screaming baby. land. screaming baby.

We walked down the stairs to the tarmac. It has been a long time since I have departed the plane like that. Customs was a breeze. The only major item we didn’t ship weeks ago was the video mixer. It was on Phil’s luggage cart as we approached the final gate before the taxi stand. A man looking like a Naval officer rushed over. “What’s in that box? Please come with me.” We didn’t see Phil for a while then he randomly appeared outside the terminal near the taxis. He had been put out through some side door.

We loaded up about 15 bags in the two Toyota Innova mini-vans, with driver, that we will have for the entire trip. Dodging auto-rickshaws, cows, motocycles, and lots of people, we arrived at the Young Women’s Christian Center. Sleep.