Yesterday my driver (yes, I have a driver. it's weird) took me around to some of the local sites, many of which (coincidentally enough) were shops where the driver seemed to know the employees very well. Hmmmm... I'd heard that drivers often have deals with merchants, getting a cut of the money the passenger (the drivee?) spends in the store. But I really didn't care since I had no idea where to go anyway. I just knew I wanted to hit the Lalbagh Botanical Garden at some point because I heard it was cool.
First stop is the silk store -- Bangalore, apparently, is known for having a fine silk industry. I'm given such royal treatment that I feel uncomfortable. Multiple employees encircle me, unfolding shirt after shirt in hopes that one (or many) will catch my eye and unshackle my wallet. A woman comes by and offers me a glass of orange soda (I decline). I end up buying a couple shirts since I need a few more buttondowns for work, but not any of the really expensive ones. And I think they're both made of cotton.
Next Thankachen (my driver) and I drive over to the parliment building and some other big governmental building. Nothing really exciting, though I take a few pictures anyway. I have to take them with my camcorder since my camera had busted the night I arrived...dagnabbit.
We go to Brigade Road, a nice shopping area, so I can try and find a new camera. They have some but I don't buy because I can't find the kind I want. And I'm a picky bastard.
Back in the car, I say I'd like to go to the botanical gardens. Thankachen says that it doesn't open until 3pm. I'm suspicious, but whatever. I'll play his little game since it's already almost two. He takes me to some nondescript building and suggests I go in. "Take ten minutes" he says in his broken English, "nice things to see."
"What, like a museum?" I ask.
"Yes, yes, museum."
I go inside. Shockingly, it is not a museum. I'm in an elegant room filled with rolled up rugs. I take a deep breath and sit in the seat that the rug salesman pointed me to. His assistants come in and unfurl large rugs which nearly reach the edge of my feet. He encourages me to touch them and feel how soft they are. "Yes, umm, they're very soft" I say before explaining, in too much detail, that I have no need for a rug. Fine, he says. They have other things too.
An assistant apparates and escorts me from room to room. Many lovely items yet I have no use for nearly all of them. "Sorry," I explain while looking at rows upon rows of beautiful fabric. "I don't need a shawl."
I am also unreceptive as the assistant tries to push saris on me. "For your wife, your mother, your sister." No sale. I just don't see my sister wearing a sari. I do make one purchase though -- a small wooden pencil holder with a picture of Ganesh on the front. Probably the cheapest item in the store but at least it was something I would use.
Back in the car, Thankachen asks what I bought and how much it cost. Certainly he asks out of curiosity, not because he's interested in how many rupees that would mean for him.
We go to the outside of some palace. Looks nice, if unspectacular. I switch on my camcorder to snap a shot and an angry guard approaches us. Apparently I wasn't meant to take a picture of this nice, if unspectacular palace. Oh well, no big loss.
Continuing on our drive, Thankachen asks if I like diamonds, says that he knows a good jewelry store. I say I'm not interested and he seems fine with that. A few minutes later we make a stop. He says I should go in this one building because it's really good. Fine, I say, just counting the minutes until three o'clock. I ride with him in the elevator and ask where we're going. "Jewelry store" he says. I roll my eyes.
After a short time resisting the jewelry guy's hard sell, we're back in the car. It's three and, finally, we reach the front gate of the Lalbagh Botanical Garden...
