Hyderabad

Are you a player?” asked the custom official. “Sure.”, I replied. “Ok, this way, please, Sir.” Thanks to the Asian-African games being held in Hyderabad and not looking Indian at all, I was able to pass customs in a second … The luggage took an eternity to arrive. In the entrance area and outside the airport, hundreds of locals are waiting, waving flowers and hands to welcome their relatives or friends. “Mr. Gawson?” — no, I’m defnitely not the one, the bold gentleman asking the queston, is looking for. Like him, another ten dozen Indians wait ouside. Desperately shouting and helding signs with the names of foreigners they are here to pick up. Finally, I see two young men with a board that has “Color Chips” and my name printed on it.

As we wait, I’m photographed by a guy who, too, obviousy has mistaken me for a player attending the games. Another ten minutes later the Ambassador car arrives and off we are into the hell that is Indian traffic.

Lanes are for loosers, the three wheeled cabs with their imbécile variety of klaxon sounds flood between the busses, Ambassadors and sporadic newer vehicles like mad bugs. The late october rain is evaporated by over 20°C and ensures that the cars’ exhausts stay in the streets, making breathing taste like you’re a suicidal, who locked himself in his garage. Over the worn facades of instanced concrete clumpsyness, that means home to most of this city’s people, the stridently colored billboards of western hemisphere influenced advertising, absorbing the Indian multi-ethnic society’s roots in every second that flushes down the veins of this organism, like blood drops into a sluice.

Hyderabad is crazy, but Mumbai is ten to fifteen times as crazy.”, says a 24 years young 2D supervisor Sri Vadsav of Color Chips. We end our shopping expedition with some overly expensive beers in a Pub called “Easy Rider”, obviously frequented by people of a rather superficious provenience.

A pair of handmade leather shoes, copied from those I wear and which I bought in Milan this spring, will cost me 1,000 Rupiees — ;about 20

Arrived in Dubai

Smooth flight, I arrived at 23.20 local time — almost on schedule. Hint for Emirates first-timers (like me): the screen at your seat is a touch screen — I noticed it took some people the whole six hours of flight time to figure this. Emirates have fancy video games, but the arrow on my gamepad was broken. I had no choice but to watch “Matrix II”, everything else offered, I had already seen (“League of Extraordinary Bullshit”, “Terminegger III”; and “Pirates of the Caribbean”). Luckily I had a nice old lady from Australia sitting to my left to talk to. The Hessian guy on my right was — you guessed it already — one of those touch screen ‘experts’. The asian vegetarian meal turned out to be an excellent choice. Dubai int. airport actually is a huge shopping mall with some flight gates added. I exchanged fifteen Euros and got a bit over sixty Dinhars. The “Global Link” internet cafe is at the departure level, gate 16. This 40 minutes of surfing cost 20 Dha. Now I’m going to buy some useless stuff and check out which gate I have to be at in about three hours.

Start!

In late october I got some inquiry to work as Lighting & Rendering supervisor on a Norwegian 3D animated feature film production, to be carried out in Hyderabad, India. One week later, I’m on my way to India. I decided to do some blogging — if my time permits — as this should be both entertaining for a lot of my friends, as well as enlightenging for other 3D professionals, to learn how things work out in this country.