Oktoberfest

October is a fabulous month. In fact, I can't think of a better month to have a "fest." First started to celebrate the wedding of some German prince, Oktoberfest has become a worldwide celebration - the St. Patrick's Day of Germany. Why wouldn't they celebrate in India? Both George and I have had the pleasure of being in Munich in late Sept./early Oct. and know how the German's celebrate. Bangalore's Oktoberfest, while still a good time, was not much like Munich. Not at all.

We had seen signs advertising Octoberfest sponsored by India's #1 beer, Kingfisher - the "King of Good Times. " We decided we would go with Adele and Charlie the Irishman and see what it was all about. It was held on the grounds of the Bangalore Palace which is also the place where the wedding we've been invited to is. Our first indication that this might not be all we were hoping for might have been George's co-workers. When he told his younger, Indian colleagues we were going to go to the Bangalore Octoberfest, he got funny looks and questions like, "really??? Where is that?" Apparently, not that big of a draw for the Indians. Secondly, they kept spelling it Octoberfest, with a "c," which I think would be like calling it Mr. Patrick's Day. Still the worst that could happen is it's awful and we leave. So, after checking into our hotel for the weekend, we tell Chandan we are going to the Palace Grounds. Ever so polite, he says, "yes, sir" but he could've been thinking, "silly white folk, no one goes to Octoberfest in India."

An hour later, we finally make our way across town and we drive down this long dirt road illuminated by skinny fluorescent lights that are lining the road. There are no signs and we see no people. As we get closer, Chandan says, "this is a private party, sir. This is a wedding." I call Adele and we realize we've gone to the wrong entrance. Another 20 minutes to go all of 2 km, and we finally made it to the right entrance. After buying our tickets, we enter into what looks like a poor man's carnival. There are some kiosks to the left with hand full of people standing around and a tent in the center of the grounds. To the right there is a stage and another larger tent with tables and food stands. There is noise coming from everywhere - each microphone trying to outdo the next which makes it sound much more crowded and lively than it actually is. The tent in the center is where you buy you tickets for beer and "games." After sitting in traffic for an hour and a half, we are all hungry so we head to the food stands. There is a truck selling pizza, a table where you can get Chinese food, Indian food, what looks like Mexican-type wraps but filled with Indian foods, and a table from the restaurant where we went for "quiz night" last week (with the "baked potatoes" that were nothing like baked potatoes). Between the five of us, we get a variety of all of the above and complementary appetizers that I'm told was cheese wrapped in bacon. Maybe it was just because I was starving, but the food was actually pretty good considering we were in a dirt field on dirty plastic chairs drinking cans of beer.

We got up from there and the boys went to get more drinks while Adele and I went to see what the games were all about. There was one game which consisted of a square platform, maybe 4 feet by 4 feet. On the platform they had tied red string between two "walls" at various angles to make a matrix-like web. The announcer was calling people from the crowd to try to maneuver through the web without touching any of the strings like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. The prize for accomplishing such a feat was not clear and it was entirely too early to be coaxed on stage. The other area by the games was really just some women trying to sell animal-friendly, eco-friendly, camel-bone jewelry. She made quite the speech insisting that the dyes they use are good for the environment and no camels were killed for the purpose of the jewelry. They were already dying. Still, this did not make me want to drape camel-bone around my neck.

I did not get to try my skills with a water gun bullseye or skee-ball or a hammer and moles to win a giant stuffed elephant. We didn't really want to get much closer to the stage because the noise was already deafening and none of us are really sure about the whole Bollywood music/dance moves. So we decided to grab a table and got talked into trying a hookah. The kind Indian gentlemen assured Adele and I that the double apple was the best flavor and there was no tobacco in it.

From that point the evening got more interesting and fun. Was it the hookah or the 6o cent beers? Charlie had another friend from County Cork, Ireland, who may or may not have been gay. We never got confirmation but I swear he had a crush on George. And a group of Indians joined us and were very interested in how we like Bangalore and what we do. There are no Starbucks here (yet) but there is a popular chain called "Coffee Day." Supposedly, one of the men we were with owns the chain. A man named Jamie also joined us briefly. I think he said he was from Montana but he was more interested in telling us that he's been here for 3 years and has started his own very successful business. You see, he was not satisfied with any of the "ex-pat" clubs already in Bangalore so he started his own but we couldn't join...it's only for high-level executives. People who work hard but want to play hard and want to be a part of an exclusive club where they can "get crazy" but not read about it the next morning in Page Six. Everyone he meets is really down-to-earth and you would never expect that they are millionaires but they are. He gives them the opportunity to "party hard" but only in exclusive and private settings. He had a little tuft of hair under his lower lip and was wearing lime green pants and made me feel slimy just sitting next to him. This then prompted a discussion about how George and I are feeling like the people we like least here are our fellow Americans. Our South African/Irish friends looked a little relieved to hear us say that and certainly did not disagree (present company excluded). And of course, no night in Bangalore would be complete with out the paparazzi. We may again appear in some Indian newspaper. (Or on some random website...)

So, there was no German beer (or anything other than Kingfisher), no one dressed in Lederhosen, no rides, no sauerkraut or bratwurst, but there was lots of laughs and a great start to the weekend.

Saturday was much more relaxing. We spent most of the day lounging by the pool where we saw a contingent of the older OWC crowd with their kids. Apparently, you can buy a membership to the hotel pool if you don't want to deal with the riffraff Bangalorean population and don't mind paying $10 for a sandwich and fries. But the weather was gorgeous and again, we felt like we were a million miles from Bangalore. We had heard the hotel we were staying at has quite a Sunday brunch so living the life of the rich and famous for the weekend, we decided why not? They had everything from sushi to pasta to omelettes to salads to a meat carving station to tarts and a chocolate fountain. Totally over the top but so good. It was enough to keep us full the entire day.

A few pictures from the weekend attached...