Always a silver lining.
To finish the recording of my trip, I thought I’d report a few of the more random or somehow culturally different happenings of my last 7 weeks. They might be normal to some, but they made me smile, whether at the time or in retrospect. Please excuse the disjointedness.
Last week, I made a late night trip to a big flower, fruit, vegetable, wooden implements, perfume, cow, sugar blocks, and many-other-things market in mystical Mysore, just before it was closing for the evening. My friend and I were buying a lot of wooden spoons, rolling pins and knives off a beautiful young chap (who probably could have also sold me a cow), when his brother came and helped us to select more things that we didn’t really need to carry all the way back to our countries. Just as we were closing our sale, the brother came back with a massive garland of jasmine and roses and put it around my neck. I was very honoured. I bought another wooden spoon. Then they requested a photo of us all together before we went on our way. After that I bought several bottles of incense I also didn’t need. The sales boys were quite sweet!
A few days later, after a big walk up a very steep hill (the tallest peak in Kerala, Chembra Peak), my friend and I treated ourselves to an Ayurvedic massage. It’s quite a different kind of massage to those people are used to in the west; I think the emphasis is more on purging than relaxing. It was on the vigorous side: you strip naked (bar a form of cotton thong), lie on a hard plastic table, are covered in warm oil and rubbed, vigorously. After an hour of that, they sit you in a wooden box, with only your head poking out, and pump steam into it. You stay there until you can feel a mix of water, oil and the day’s grime dripping from you and you’re about to fall asleep. Then you’re towelled ‘dry’, again rather vigorously, and re-enter the world as a more relaxed and very oily being. I did find it relaxing, bar the hardness on the table and the mobile phone conversation and gossip that the masseur and Ayurvedic doctor had at certain points. Glad I got to try it.
They have cheese flavoured pop corn in India! Has that hit Europe yet? And intervals half way through their films in the cinema....but then your average Bollywood blockbuster is about twice as long as Lord of the Rings.
I have to mention a muslim man, Salam Abdul (or possibly a variation on that), and his family, whom were so so kind to me and my friend when we stayed with them for two nights in a little town called Kalpetta. He went beyond the call of duty in looking after us, wouldn’t let us go to bed without eating more than our tummies’ fill of rice, took us to a waterfall where we could swim and kept the bathing adolescent males in the pool above from coming down to spy on the white girls, and told the driver of the bus that was to take us away to our next destination to stop if there were elephants on the road so we could take a photo. I’ve seen such kindness here.
I’ve also seen so many near misses on the roads here! Oh my. Over-taking on blind bends is standard, even more so if they are hair-pin turns on steep ascents or descents. Somehow being sandwiched between a window and a large sari-glad aunty is the best way to experience them, especially if they offer you little balls of sweet sesame. Cycling without lights or a helmet in central Bangalore at night is also standard, it seems. As is not looking behind you at ongoing traffic, whether you’re driving a car, an auto (a.k.a. rickshaw), riding a bike, or just strolling across a road. I presume their moto is a combination of: “Don’t stop movin” and “Never look back”.
I have had some wonderful transport experiences though. At one point we got to ride a bus and a boat at the local school home time. They were moments of very fun chaos. It reminded me of a similar situation I had one wet (soaked is a better adjective) holiday I had with my family in Wales. I could understand the little Indian people about as much as I could the Welsh youngins.
We did meet one gentleman back in January at the generic hippy beach resort of Varkala, who we could understand quite clearly, at least in language, if not in context. He invited us to join his table since the restaurant was full, revealing an accent telling of a very ‘proper’ education. He was a Bachelor of Arts from the Oxford Bubble, owned a double-barrel surname, and was wearing a shirt. He seemed a good chap though and we ended up joining him for cocktails at a stoners bar and having an intense and quite emotional debate (obviously) about Indian and British politics (again, obviously) and the Colonial impact with an Indian journalist acquaintance of his, until 2am. About a week later, we were wandering along the Cochin waterfront, admiring the big Chinese fishing nets (that now catch a fraction of the fish they did a few decades ago), and who were we to bump into but our friendly Oxbridge pal. It’s a small World.
Oh, I couldn’t resist putting in this photo of one of the priests leading the first ceremony of the second wedding, with his mobile phone hanging around his neck. An essential part of his attire.
One more, possibly my favourite happening....my friend is trying to dig a new well for his home in Bangalore, since the water dries up regularly on one side of the house (I don’t quite understand how it still runs on the other, and why the side it does work on swops daily), and so has invited various contractors over to try to locate a point at which to dig for water. They had a geologist come before, and ended up paying him a ridiculous amount to survey their land, pick a bore-point and dig, only to find no water at the bottom of the 800m (or similar) hole. I think they found that a bit frustrating. I was lucky enough to be around when the latest water-finder came. He uses the famous(?) coconut technique to find underground streams and reservoirs: he walks around balancing a coconut in his hand, and when it stands upright, it means there’s water. I wasn’t the only dubious one! He seemed to find a few different points were his coconut got excited, and even jumped out of his hand a few times (quite a spectacle!), and will be back soon to start the digging. We tried to find water with the same coconut and same technique once he’d left, but didn’t have quite the same success, surprisingly. Since he only charges if he finds water, he’s definitely worth a try, my friend thought. Wonderful.
A very colourful trip.
Right, back to the DPhil.
Last week, I made a late night trip to a big flower, fruit, vegetable, wooden implements, perfume, cow, sugar blocks, and many-other-things market in mystical Mysore, just before it was closing for the evening. My friend and I were buying a lot of wooden spoons, rolling pins and knives off a beautiful young chap (who probably could have also sold me a cow), when his brother came and helped us to select more things that we didn’t really need to carry all the way back to our countries. Just as we were closing our sale, the brother came back with a massive garland of jasmine and roses and put it around my neck. I was very honoured. I bought another wooden spoon. Then they requested a photo of us all together before we went on our way. After that I bought several bottles of incense I also didn’t need. The sales boys were quite sweet!
A few days later, after a big walk up a very steep hill (the tallest peak in Kerala, Chembra Peak), my friend and I treated ourselves to an Ayurvedic massage. It’s quite a different kind of massage to those people are used to in the west; I think the emphasis is more on purging than relaxing. It was on the vigorous side: you strip naked (bar a form of cotton thong), lie on a hard plastic table, are covered in warm oil and rubbed, vigorously. After an hour of that, they sit you in a wooden box, with only your head poking out, and pump steam into it. You stay there until you can feel a mix of water, oil and the day’s grime dripping from you and you’re about to fall asleep. Then you’re towelled ‘dry’, again rather vigorously, and re-enter the world as a more relaxed and very oily being. I did find it relaxing, bar the hardness on the table and the mobile phone conversation and gossip that the masseur and Ayurvedic doctor had at certain points. Glad I got to try it.
They have cheese flavoured pop corn in India! Has that hit Europe yet? And intervals half way through their films in the cinema....but then your average Bollywood blockbuster is about twice as long as Lord of the Rings.
I have to mention a muslim man, Salam Abdul (or possibly a variation on that), and his family, whom were so so kind to me and my friend when we stayed with them for two nights in a little town called Kalpetta. He went beyond the call of duty in looking after us, wouldn’t let us go to bed without eating more than our tummies’ fill of rice, took us to a waterfall where we could swim and kept the bathing adolescent males in the pool above from coming down to spy on the white girls, and told the driver of the bus that was to take us away to our next destination to stop if there were elephants on the road so we could take a photo. I’ve seen such kindness here.
I’ve also seen so many near misses on the roads here! Oh my. Over-taking on blind bends is standard, even more so if they are hair-pin turns on steep ascents or descents. Somehow being sandwiched between a window and a large sari-glad aunty is the best way to experience them, especially if they offer you little balls of sweet sesame. Cycling without lights or a helmet in central Bangalore at night is also standard, it seems. As is not looking behind you at ongoing traffic, whether you’re driving a car, an auto (a.k.a. rickshaw), riding a bike, or just strolling across a road. I presume their moto is a combination of: “Don’t stop movin” and “Never look back”.
I have had some wonderful transport experiences though. At one point we got to ride a bus and a boat at the local school home time. They were moments of very fun chaos. It reminded me of a similar situation I had one wet (soaked is a better adjective) holiday I had with my family in Wales. I could understand the little Indian people about as much as I could the Welsh youngins.
We did meet one gentleman back in January at the generic hippy beach resort of Varkala, who we could understand quite clearly, at least in language, if not in context. He invited us to join his table since the restaurant was full, revealing an accent telling of a very ‘proper’ education. He was a Bachelor of Arts from the Oxford Bubble, owned a double-barrel surname, and was wearing a shirt. He seemed a good chap though and we ended up joining him for cocktails at a stoners bar and having an intense and quite emotional debate (obviously) about Indian and British politics (again, obviously) and the Colonial impact with an Indian journalist acquaintance of his, until 2am. About a week later, we were wandering along the Cochin waterfront, admiring the big Chinese fishing nets (that now catch a fraction of the fish they did a few decades ago), and who were we to bump into but our friendly Oxbridge pal. It’s a small World.
Oh, I couldn’t resist putting in this photo of one of the priests leading the first ceremony of the second wedding, with his mobile phone hanging around his neck. An essential part of his attire.
One more, possibly my favourite happening....my friend is trying to dig a new well for his home in Bangalore, since the water dries up regularly on one side of the house (I don’t quite understand how it still runs on the other, and why the side it does work on swops daily), and so has invited various contractors over to try to locate a point at which to dig for water. They had a geologist come before, and ended up paying him a ridiculous amount to survey their land, pick a bore-point and dig, only to find no water at the bottom of the 800m (or similar) hole. I think they found that a bit frustrating. I was lucky enough to be around when the latest water-finder came. He uses the famous(?) coconut technique to find underground streams and reservoirs: he walks around balancing a coconut in his hand, and when it stands upright, it means there’s water. I wasn’t the only dubious one! He seemed to find a few different points were his coconut got excited, and even jumped out of his hand a few times (quite a spectacle!), and will be back soon to start the digging. We tried to find water with the same coconut and same technique once he’d left, but didn’t have quite the same success, surprisingly. Since he only charges if he finds water, he’s definitely worth a try, my friend thought. Wonderful.
A very colourful trip.
Right, back to the DPhil.
posted by Lydia Cole at
13:23
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