Mysore Market

We had a great idea for our last day in Mysore. Follow a cow.

What could be more iconic? All the stereotypes about cows in India are true. They really do wander wherever they want. They really do eat whatever they come across. And they really do sleep in the road. We did not see this so much in Chennai, since it is so crowded---but everywhere else, cows are common.

We spied a pair of cows who were laying across two lanes of traffic, cutting off literally half of a very crowded roundabout. Cars just rerouted around them and honked more than usual... And as we walked towards Mysore's highly regarded market, we followed as one roused. Unfortunately, food is pretty much all over the place in Mysore's market. We followed the sacred beast from the roadway as she started making her way towards the stalls. As the big mammal wandered into the crowded market area, people just parted out of the way without even a "moo." We got about 50 yards, watching the cow attempt to eat someone's lunch, get pushed and tagged in the head repeatedly, take a dump, but then the plan was waylaid by a pile of garbage which beckoned the cow---she parked and happily began munching. Too bad, it would have been a great literary device, but we are a group of easily bored people...so we just walked the market stalls and enjoyed the chill atmosphere. The place was a riot of color: rows of flower stalls with locally-grown orange marigolds and jasmine; sculpted mounds of bright kum kum powders on every other tabletop; an array of vegetable and greenery stands; and the ubiquitous earth tones of India's exotic spices fresh from drying.

While we walked the market area, a parade celebrating the arrival of the governor of Karnataka passed down the street. People in oversized costumes, marching bands in leopard print, and fireworks announced the arrival of the big man. We ducked out of the noise and excitement in search of a sari for Jo-Elle. We found a great looking one, but passed on the $5000 price tag. Later, we were told not to buy textiles in Mysore, as they have a reputation in the town of having colors that run like water...

We also stumbled on the "Mutton Market," which looked a bit like something off the set of Texas Chain Saw Massacre with piles of goat heads, chicken combs and feet, and hanging gutted lambs... Lots of eagles loomed above waiting for stray carrion. Lots more flies didn't wait...

On a more appetizing note, we discovered a new fruit in the market, custard apples. They look a bit like little artichokes with a tough armored skin. Underneath are seeds surrounded by a white, sweet, glutinous coatings. Sounds kinda gross, I know. But they taste fabulous---and the name is surprisingly apt in describing both the taste and consistency.

While in the market, I renewed a tactic I had developed in Cambodia for dealing with random touts and incense salespeople. "Where you from?"

"Ukraine."

"huh?"

"Ukraine. Have you heard of it?" (in my thickest, fakest faux Eastern European-ish accent)

"...No..."

Conversation over. Works every time. Even better if you use the actual language of the place...


Coming up: The new blockbuster movie, "Mice on a Train."