Over the weekend, in between trying to resolve some logistical problems with database access (the burden of being on a Mac and working for an NGO without many computers), I got some tourism in. Practically speaking, since very few Indian white-collar folks do work on weekends, there's not much point in us being out at the hospital, and so we come back into Hyderabad itself. And, since I'm only here until I get that report written, there's only this weekend and maybe next. I bounced to several different neighborhoods, but since much of that was shopping to take care of some basic needs (e.g., the fact that the hospital canteen serves very good food, but no fresh fruit), I'll hit the highlights.

First, Charminar. Central landmark of the old city, surrounded by a lot of jewelry and clothing bazaar. Here's the photo from street level:



The function of Charminar is still not totally clear to me, although it does contain a mosque on the top floor (which tourists are not permitted to enter). These days, it seems to serve mostly as an observation platform for the bazaar; more photos of that start here.

Courtesy of a fellow tourist, I did also get a photo of me next to the central fountain:



After that, Saturday's wanderings included some much less picturesque museums and a stroll through some department stores just to get a sense for prices and what was on offer. Sunday's morning was similar, but in the afternoon I took a trip out to Golconda Fort, once the bastion of the local kings. Photos of that will follow soon
once they're processed. I did take pride in my ability to convince them (with a lot of bluffery) that I was an India resident and thus entitled to pay Rs 5 as opposed to Rs 100 to get in.

The logistics of all this travel are always interesting, because the primary mode of transport for a medium-income solo tourist is the auto-rickshaw. Ride-wise, these are less terrifying than they initially appear, despite traffic laws being significantly more flexible. It's the price where things get interesting,
because even knowing a few words of Hindi, it's impossible to hide the fact that you're a foreigner. You have the choice of either using the meter (which often requires some forcefulness) or negotiating a fixed price. The former requires you to
know what a direct route to your destination should look like. The latter requires a good sense of what it should cost, often acquired by one or more metered rides (or guesswork off a map, once you know what a given distance should mean in rupees).

I ended up in very spirited discussion with the other grad student on Saturday night about this. She's been here eight weeks, and thus has gotten very good at the art of rickshaw haggling (and thankfully is willing to share her knowledge), but also clearly feels upset about the fact that she's forced to continually wage a one-women crusade against the cheating of white people. I still bargain, but take much more of a "As long as I pay less than X, I don't care if it's still double the local rate" perspective; for me, it's more of a sport. It's also the fact that when the price differential gets down to that last ten rupees (about a quarter), my willingness to spend more than thirty seconds on it is pretty small. I think this will change once the novelty of being in India wears off and it's back to ordinary conserve-money living; at two tourist days a week and four cab rides each, 10 rupees over the course of my visit is $50, and the overcharge isn't always 10. Travel broadens the mind, but usually not the pocketbook.