February 13, 2023
Monkeys are Mean, Ruins are Pretty (Hampi)
We woke up in the wee hours of the morning and hopped on a bus. I slipped on an eye mask as I hoped to bank a few more hours of sleep on top of the two or so I had gotten that morning in anticipation of our magical journey.
As we moseyed along the bumpy road in darkness, I laid back and reflected on the prior week. Many hours of meetings, report writing, research, and deliberation had left me feeling a bit frayed. That week, my group powered through our 16 questions for our problem and solution and started reports, while also continuing to sort out our organization project objectives. A lot of the work consisted of simply figuring out what we needed to do to meet our objectives, and we spent much of every day discussing and working through our deliverables as a group, moving a little bit further each day.
But that week was now behind us. We were on the road to Hampi, a place north of town that I had only heard good things about. After the 7-hour bus ride, we arrived at our hotel and then made our way to a series of ruins of the ancient city. The landscape consisted of boulder-covered orange hills intermixed with flat plains that supported the city of stone remains. We explored for a couple hours wandering through various granite temples, underneath archways, around walls, and into step wells. The Biome team even used their TDS (Total Dissolved Solids) measurement device in some of the well water and discovered that it was remarkably bereft of minerals. Next, we traversed a boulder out-cropping, appreciated views, and took our share of aesthetic photos. One of our mentors, Priyanka, explained to us that a few centuries ago, the city was very rich and prosperous, ruled by an extremely wealthy person who was de-facto ruler due to his wealth and connections. He befriended many sultans from around the land, which was quite beneficial for the kingdom, at least until all of the sultans conspired and removed him from the situation permanently. The bloodline ruler was at this point inexperienced and ineffective, so Hampi’s prosperity declined. Priyanka clarified that this was a highly abridged version of the history, but I was grateful for the context. We continued on to the elephant stables nearby and admired the unique dome designs of each elephant enclosure. I noticed tourists from many parts of the globe around us, speaking a variety of languages and sporting a range of clothing modesty standards. We capped off the day with a misty sunset on Hippie point and made our way back to the hotel for dinner. At this point, one of our teammates scored two dashes on the Covid test, kicking off a logistical frenzy. Fortunately, the room arrangements found equilibrium, and we all found a pillow to lay our weary heads to rest without infecting one another.
Saturday consisted of more neat outings, this time by boat and across some longer trails. We paid a visit to the stone chariot, a chariot carved entirely of stone (not functioning), and marveled at the intricate stone carving of animal figures and temple walls that channeled rain water into patterns of trickles across the stone design. Bananas were sold at many locations throughout this site, and while humans were the sole purchasers of these yellow fruits, the resident monkeys were quite often the end consumer. We looked on as one seasoned professional snatched a bundle from a poor tourist and went to town. As the monkey finished sharing its bounty with some teammates, it was already eyeing its next score and marched right over and grabbed a bag of fruit from another shrieking tourist. I felt an uneasy mix of injustice and amusement witnessing this unabashed thievery transpire before me. Before I could explore any more of my emotions, the poised scoundrel grabbed a water bottle right out of Priyanka’s hand, unscrewed the cap, tipped it over, and lapped up water from the puddle to wash down the bananas. Three for three. We were stunned. At this moment, my sense of injustice weighed heavier than my sense of amusement. I stared that monkey down, determined to teach him a lesson about lawful commerce. Fortunately, as this fellow began sizing me up, my common sense swooped in and tapped me on the shoulder to remind me that my best interests lay in continuing my pleasant tourism and less so in arbitrating monkey justice and serving as patient zero for the next big pandemic. Thus, I continued on with the rest of the group to admire more old things.
Our trip finished with a beautiful sunrise hike and an arduous bus ride back to the hostel. On this bus, opting to put-off my blog writing to a more comfortable location, I reflected on my journey in India thus far and in my life more broadly. I knew this trip would be a significant learning experience that would broaden my horizons. I figured I might feel a little out of my element, and I certainly have for much of my time here. However, looking out the window at the city lights gleaming past through the bus windows, I am reminded of all the other times in my life that I have looked out at city lights gleaming past me through a window. I don’t talk to anyone, just think about my life in the undefined place between sad and blissful as I wait however long it takes to reach the next destination. Going to India and doing GCIL has helped me a lot with moving forward while embracing uncertainty. I always feel like I’m searching for things in my life, and while I tend to find more questions than answers in my search, I think the search is worthwhile, so I will continue forward on these dark roads in India as city lights gleam by.
By Jack