Traveling meditation

The flight into Hyderabad from Singapore was the first meditative travel experience of this trip. I woke just in time to look out the window and see Orion’s Belt as clear as could be, a spectacular lightening display from above, and a shooting star. It was like the time I was waiting for the Hood Canal bridge to close as a submarine passed through on its way out to sea with the American flag raised, and a freaking bald eagle flew past as if on cue.

I’m staying these four days with my postdoc’s family…just about all of them. The families of three brothers live on the same property that’s been in their family for eight generations. They say that they are the last descendants of civil servants of the Nizam monarchy of Hyderabad who still live in the original old part of the city. The cluster of houses are on narrow paths behind a common gate and range in age of modernization from the original home that the brothers were raised in, which is painted three shades of the ocean and has all the signs of ancient construction, to this house that was re-completed just over a year ago. Each morning I’ve awakened first to the sounds of the Muslim call to prayer broadcast at 5 am from a mosque about a quarter mile away. It’s easy to fall asleep again and to be awakened a couple of hours later by the sounds of cooking and cleaning in the kitchen and the music played by the woman who helps Adi’s parents with the house. I haven’t felt this peaceful in ages.

Yesterday after breakfast, we went into the center of this old part of town to see the Charminar monument and to walk about the markets. The Charminar is a four-minaret monument that was finished in 1591 to commemorate the end of a great plague. In all four directions from the Charminar, the streets extend through shops selling traditional Hyderabadi bangles in one direction and pearl jewelry in another. It seems strange that the almost geographic center of India would be known for its pearls, but it’s apparently a centuries held tradition dating back to the monarchy. The bangles are the craft that predominantly marks Hyderabad today. They’re set about a metal loop that is coated in a sort of laquer and set with dozens or hundreds of small glass rhinestones. They’re in all colors and patterns and line the forearms of Indian women. No doubt many will be coming home with me.

Food…all of it. My first food experience wasn’t a sensation of taste but rather of sound. Adi guided me toward the sound of perfectly rhythmic pounding in a small street front shop with a man sorting stacks and stacks of papers and two men on the floor behind him each repeatedly striking a thick piece of what looked like leather with a small mallet in perfect alternation. The stacks of paper are interleaved with ultrathin sheets of silver foil. It’s one of the few remaining shops that manually pounds pieces of silver into the thin sheets that get laid on top of many of the traditional Indian sweets. I stood there for a moment listening to the rhythm with my eyes closed to appreciate this third meditative travel moment.

More food with milky chai, and lots of it. Warm samosas with spicy lentils, potatoes, and onions. Osmania biscuits that are slightly sweet and a little salty and a lot of perfect. A delectable pillow resting in pistachio/saffron/cardamom cream that first has the texture of a grain pastry and gives itself away as cheese curd only when it squeaks slightly between your teeth. And Adi’s mom’s curries…she’s an amazing cook. Even the goat testicles and kidneys were palatable (sorry to those of you who were so enjoying my food descriptions until that last one.) Each day they are giving me a “challenging food” to test my adventurousness. If they hadn’t told me I was eating testicle, I could have put back several, because they were so well-seasoned.

All is wonderful except for the mosquitos. They're bastards. I'm not taking an anti-malarial in part because I could also get dengue or Chikigunya, so I might as well just do my best to not get bitten. This place is a real test of mosquito repellent, and I do seem to have an invisible shield of about six inches around me that keeps them buzzing near but not too near. It's like having an annoying sibling flying about constantly saying "I'm not touching you. I'm not touching you..."