skip's blog

India Part 2

Hyderabad will likely stick in my head as the place where I fell in love with India, not only because of the contradictions that make the place what it is, but also because it’s a great place full of incredible people.

Tracy had been invited to give create new work and give a workshop for the art students at the University of Hyderabad, which is considered the best university in India. The campus is not actually in the city proper. UH is actually in the hills above the city, on about 2500 acres of green.

Hyderabad has a fairly complex history. It’s only about 500 years old, which makes it one of the younger major cities of a 4000 year old country. It is the capital of the state of Anrah Pradesh and is an extremely modern metropolis. New buildings are in construction and the all seem to be about the booming IT industry. Western dining and shopping are all over the damn place. There are as many Reebok stores here as are in the San Fernando Valley. Malls abound. And I hate to use the word “abound” but they really do.

The American Center – and Tracy’s tour is through that office – has a system of drivers and local representatives whose job it is to keep you on schedule, out of harm’s way, and attend to whatever situations arise. Some of these people can be pretty stiff in the tradition of British diplomacy. Since many of the protocols here come from the British, standing on ceremony is to be expected.

We had two attendants, Juliet and Salil, and a driver, Ahmet. I cannot describe Juliet with full justice, except to say that she is well known throughout the American Centers of India. She’s 5’1 of loud opinions.

Salil was close to my own age, and among the most insightful people I’ve met in my adult life. His knowledge of India was deep and nuanced, and I probably learned more of the place from him over the little tiny cups of coffee we shared than I had from weeks of research about where to go and why I should want to look at it.

UH has 2000 students and 2500 acres, more than likely making it the least crowded place in metropolitan India anywhere. The grounds are gorgeous, green, and lush.

The first glance at the buildings themselves and the American eye sees a cross between the head office at a summer camp and the military strategic centers in the movie Patton. The faculty offices are nearly all old wooden one story barrack rows. None of the faculty has an air conditioning, and the mosquitoes up there are worth remarking upon.

The students generally look like college students most anywhere. They’re young, good-looking, sloppily dressed in the same stuff as their American counterparts, and the guys all need a shave. Many of the girls are wearing sarees, which is often enough to make a westerner look twice.

Hyderabad is A Muslim town, unlike Delhi, which is Hindu all the way. Hindi is spoken here somewhat, but Telugu seems to be the main local language. The educated people all speak English more than well enough to get through a conversation with an American guest, and – if the conversation gets awkward – they will revert to the social fallback of India. They feed you or make you a cup of tea.

One of the foods for which the city is most justifiably famous is biryani, which is India’s rendition of jambalaya. The Hyderabad version is spiced rice with marinated meat or fish, all cooked together. Its origins are apparently Muslim.

Tell anyone in India you’re going to Hyderabad, and they will insist you go get biryani at Paradise, which is as downhome a spot as you’ll ever need. As with many restaurants in India, you go through an armed guard to get in. There’s a take-out and snack area at street level in a busy part of town, and the lines in are gargantuan, but this is generally the case with lines in India.

The restaurant is on the second floor, and it’s disarming in its complete lack of pretense. The ceilings are low and the room is dim but not quite dark. The walls are light gold wallpaper, and a glance around the place tells you immediately that its reputation is old and deserved. The clientele is made up largely of families, and there are more than a few tables of older people. It’s not a hipster place, although a few local hipsters are around. Think early pre-rockstar Canter’s Deli.

The smell of that place is wonderful. It’s rice and spice and meat smells all coming together. As you are seated, about nine busboys and waiters start taking care of every aspect of your meal. Again, the local statistics indicate that you will be overattended at any place that serves Indian food. Paradise serves in the traditional Indian style, which is to say it takes roughly six guys to serve any given American couple. We order chicken biryani and lamb kebob, with a desert of cardimum ice cream, and it’s one of the best meals ever. It’s pastrami at The Hat, ribs at LC’s, mussels in white sauce at Walt’s, and a 2 a.m. bowl of soup at a really good South Jersey diner. It’s comfort food, and it’s perfect. And all for about twenty bucks.

We learned pretty quickly that Hyderbad is a great place for food. Our second night there, we went to a bistro called Fusion 9 (Salil turned us onto it), which whose board of fare was upscale eclectic world cuisine, and it succeeded wildly (once they turned down the techno music).

posted by skip heller @ 4:49 AM