Thursday, April 25, 2013

Losing myself in Genoa

San Lorenzo
Although not a big fan of Columbus the "discoverer" of America, I got some amazing insight about the man on my recent visit to Genoa. I find it ridiculous on many levels that Columbus gets so much credit for just managing to lose his way especially because he is a Genoese and getting lost must've been second nature to him! Before you accuse me of dissing Genoa and the Genoese, let me clarify I have nothing but respect for the Genoese people. In fact I found them to be very friendly, very eager to help, and they do know their pesto.

But the city is amazingly well suited for getting lost. I learned that since the Medieval times the city tried to shore up its defenses with well laid out forts and palaces. Why bother! Which enemy in their right mind is going to navigate the carrugi and get to the heart of the city to storm the seat of power?

The first day in Genoa I had a seemingly simple task of locating a ATM machine to get some Euros. Like most Americans i had just assumed everyone around the world, would gladly take the Dollar, but NO! One would think I was trying to pull a fast one trying to trade with them in Bitcoin. I won't name the hotel that I had the misfortune of staying, but after a 6 hour plane delay, a day of near starvation, and a room which felt like a boiler, was it too much to expect a hotel to have a concierge who could've pointed me to an ATM? Bates Motel would have got one star more from me on tripadvisor when compared to this one.

Atop one of the museums in Via Garibaldi
I felt like Jack Lemmon in the out of towners and would've boarded the next flight to America, that is if I could a) get the Lufthansa website to load on the phenomenally snail speed Wi-Fi at Bates Motel b) ignore my professional duty c) accept defeat and say I am too old to deal with such (mis)adventures in a foreign land. But I couldn't bring myself to do any of the above 3 so I stayed on and like all species that have survived, I learned to adapt.

After a night of good sleep with the balcony door open (I did a well thought out risk analysis which took all of 5 minutes and decided that getting robbed in sleep was better than getting fried trying to sleep ) everything seemed better. Armed with an umbrella (now that, the hotel had) which I thought could come handy as a mugger-deterrent i stepped out to explore. I am glad to report that I didn't have to use the umbrella even once.

Dog outside San Lorenzo
After navigating the countless street vendors (amazingly all of them from some part of Africa/India, who equally amazingly spoke to me in Espanol) who wanted to sell me trinkets and magnets, and some who just wanted to celebrate their African nation's day of freedom by "giving" me a gift of friendship, I managed to end up at the Palazzo Tursi eager to see Paganini's violin. As I navigated the museum i was struck not just by the art, but by the fact that there was one volunteer in each room of the palace who walked with you to the next room to hand you off, so you won't get lost within the 5 or 6 rooms! Hey, where are these volunteers on the streets, where I really need them?

By the time I reached San Lorenzo cathedral and touched the "lucky dog" outside, it certainly looked like my luck had turned for the good. I met this amazingly funny tour guide who was not just a wealth of knowledge but also a keeper of secrets and she let me in on a little but crucial secret on how to survive in Genoa. If ever you get lost in the carrugi, she said, just look for a road sloping downhill as all downward slopes can only lead to the sea, and you will find your way to Roman Polanski's pirate ship. Elementary! So with gravity as my friend I happily lost myself in Genoa, just wandering through the Carrugi getting lost on purpose to see if I could get back to the port, and here I am living to tell the tale.
Polanski's Pirate Ship

No offense to my family or friends (and you know how much I love you all), but that Saturday when I spent dawn to dusk walking alone amidst a sea of people was one of the best times in recent memory.  I completely lost myself in the sights and sounds of Genoa and as I was winding down (no pun intended), I heard a familiar refrain "I think we are lost....again, Mom"! I turned to see a young American family. A little Columbus in the making I thought, but given how much I dislike Columbus, wasn't sure I would wish it on the little boy, so I said "I learned a small trick to navigate the Carrugi"....



Monday, April 8, 2013

OBOC - Kyrgyzstan & Kazakhstan



It is with trepidation that I picked up “The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years” by Chingiz Aitmatov the most celebrated writer from Kyrgyzstan. The novel itself is set in Kazakhstan; hence this OBOC project is for both the countries. I had almost decided to skip Kazakhstan, but felt it would be great injustice if the only thing I could associate with the country is Borat. The Hundred Years in the title reminded me of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 100 Years of Solitude and that was quite a difficult read. But I am glad I forced myself to pick up this book, because once I did there was not much coercion needed to make me finish it.

Set in the remote Sary-ozek steppes of Kazakhstan in the early 50’s close to the end of Stalinism, one would think that besides the railways there was hardly any modernization. After all a Bactrian camel plays a colorful and significant role throughout the novel. But hidden among the barren landscapes are the spacecraft launch stations which are lighting up the night sky with rocket launches.

Yedegei Burranyi the hero of the novel is a railway worker at the Boranly-Burranyi Junction. When his friend and coworker Kazangap dies, Yedegei begins a long arduous journey through the Steppes to bury him at the Ana Beiit cemetery as per the dying man’s wish. The day long journey is carried out by Yedegei on his camel followed by the grave digger and his equipment, a tractor and the close male relatives and friends of the dead man. The novel is basically Yedegei reminiscing about his life, his friendships, notably his relationship with the family of Abutalip who is wronged by the Party, and life in Burranyi Junction, combined with myths and folktales from Kazakhstan. 

Running in parallel is a science fiction plot where 2 cosmonauts, 1 American and 1 Russian have made contact with an extra terrestrial civilization on the planet Lesnaya Grud which now wants to reach out to the humans on Earth. Both nations decide not to entertain any contact with the extra-terrestrial civilization and therefore choose to abandon the two cosmonauts who went over to Lesnaya Grud. The whole operation is kept secret from the Public and the two governments decide to launch missile-equipped satellites to defend the earth from any launches from Lesnaya Grud.  

Although there is some discussion about the “mankurt” (people alienated from their motherland, culture and overall society) and the story of Abutalip’s imprisonment and persecution can be viewed as containing dissident themes, I found “The day…” to be fairly ambiguous that it escaped the censor board in Russia. Yedegei is a practicing Muslim and in the death rituals we see that he hasn’t given up his way of life. At the same time “The Party” which is seeing winds (maybe I should say light breeze) of change following the death of Stalin re-opens the case of Abutalip and clears his name, and there is overall optimism.

The science fiction plot was loosely tied with Yedegei’s life, and if one wants to make any kind of analogies to the main plot, it is tenuous at best. I still enjoyed the book.  Wouldn’t call it a classic, but this is a perfect book for a project like OBOC. Learned about a new country, a new author and a different narrative style and it was mostly easy-reading!