being in india: June 2005

Six months India - 28th of June 2005

Coming back from my two weeks in Europe felt nice. It was pleasantly warm when stepping out of the airplain even though it was 1am in the morning. Patrik and Ajit were welcoming me back and Ajit seemed happy to get a more busy Drivers-Life again as he started to get bored just going to the office and back. Kasdhuri just said a house feels empty without a woman [I am not sure if she was playing on me being rather untidy and always making a mess when using the aquaguard [water filter system] in the kitchen!].

The next day I just went out, running around Bangalore’s dusty and traffic jammed streets with all the little yellow auto rickshaws fighting their way through cars, cows and street sellers. And the people in little street shops asking where I have been so long, or commenting on ‘you usually come here in the mornings’. It really felt like coming back home, it was good to have left India for the first time. There is a certain freedom in this unorganised madness… walking around somehow feels so free, so simple, so connected and somewhat very real.

The rainy season has begun [with not much rain so far], but more cloudy days than usual. Temperatures have dropped from 37 to 25 degrees, and I must say it is a bit cold. I am sleeping with socks at night!
The mango season is coming to an end, some new places have opened up [the first really western brands 'Mango' and 'M&S'. I am impressed. Even though M&S are selling their rubbish for London prices, so not sure how long they will survive.], lots of people are leaving for the summer break, some are signing up for some more years, some are moving house as their homes did not proof wasserdicht [waterproofed]. There is a constant change going on.

We still really enjoy reading the newspapers here [The Indian Times], it gives you a good inside into the Indian way of thinking… one article made me laugh the other day. The headline was ‘Wearing of helmet will not lead to hair loss’. And I thought they just don’t care about safety.

I made it into the papers some weeks ago, we went to a charity pool party at the Leela Palace and some journalist took a photo of me and my friend Vanita. Usually they don’t like to show just western people in the papers here, but as Vanita is Indian I guess I made it onto page 3 for that reason.
What a funny day, all the guards in our house were giggling when I passed, and when they found the picture they right away called Ajit to tell him about ‘his madam’. He then bought the paper and called his family. Ajit’s comment to me was: ‘Madam you look like a fat lady in that picture’. Oh, how I love their honest way of talking.
Funnily enough I learned the other day that the muslim name Sabeena means ‘well fed’. Nice one!

People keep telling us about having seen cobras, the most common snake in the area. They seem to like the climate here, as Bangalore sits on a 1000m high plateau. You can find warnings in the newspaper of cobras coming into people’s houses, through the garden or water pipes. Apparently a cobra got into a little girls bedroom here in Bangalore some weeks ago. It wrapped itself around the sleeping girls arm and bit her. She survived, but what a scary story. I am glad we are in a 3rd floor apartment block!

The Police commissioner offices… a place that can make you hate India for the day! I was stupid enough to go there on my own, just to collect the forms I would have to fill out in order to register. I did not get anywhere, was ignored, men pushing past me [being the tallest person in that bloody office], and when I finally made it to that scruffy little front desk the guy just refuses to give me any information, saying he would need to see my passport [even though I could obviously tell him which passport I am holding]. So I went again with Patrik the next day, and he got the information straight away. Standing next to Patrik I asked one question, and the officer ignored me again and answered back to Patrik. Uh, you really want to jump over that counter and beat some sense into these people. But what you do is smile, say thank you and leave. Not easy.

I was always touched by the way Kasdhuri and also Ajit are asking me ‘Have you had breakfast yet?’ or ‘Have you had lunch yet?’. How sweet, I thought, they really care about me. I learned now that it’s nothing more then a saying. I guess it started off as a caring thing to say, but ended up just being a meaningless saying, a bit like ‘How are you?’ is being used in the English language. Standing in the lift with one of the maintenance guys the other day he smiled and said: ‘Madam, have you had breakfast yet?’ …I could not help but smile. Loving it, and am using it myself now.
Glad we found out though, as my friend started getting irritated with their post delivery man, as he asked her every bloody morning if she had had breakfast yet.

We are invited to an Indian Christian wedding tomorrow, very exiting. Will have to get some suitable clothes to wear, maybe some fancy ‘Kurta Pyjama’. I guess the more colourful the better! No way I am waering a Saree, I would probably end up half nacked during the ceromony, the 6 meters of fabric on the floor!

Adjusting - 25th of February 2005

Seven weeks down the line and we find ourselves having massala toast for breakfast, with fried egg on top and a pinch of massala spice. Who would have thought!

Our stuff from London has finally arrived. As tough as it was to see it all being wrapped up and taken away from us in December, as rewarding it was when it arrived here in our new home. A bit of a weird feeling kicked in as well, as these things reminded us on our life back in London, which seems like ages ago.

Raja [driver] made us laugh the other day, we stopped by the market to buy some flowers, and this young Indian guy followed me around all the time, being annoying, asking for money in a very rude way. I snapped at him, but he kept on following me which freaked me out. When I got back into the car he was still standing next to my window. I mentioned it to Raja, and he had a real go at him. Raja's english is not great, but when he got back into the car he just said ‘lazy bugger’ and drove off.
We gave a toaster to him as we had bought an interims toaster when setting up life here. The next day he came back and said he couldn’t figure out how to use it. Brilliant, it didn’t even strike my mind to explain how it works. Bought him some massala toast and cream cheese and explained the procedure. He said he liked it, but he might have just been polite, as usual. Am picturing his entire family standing around the little magic thing watching the toasts pop out…

Will we ever be able to get used to this? Every little task takes about 15 times longer than necessary, involving 6-10 people [just to put up a toilet roll holder, yes!]. When having a leak in the bathroom 10 little guys come by to fix it. And at least 5 of them leave hand prints everywhere on the white walls. When telling them off they hold each others hands and smile at you. Great, makes you feel like telling off small children.

You can get receipts for bribery here! Isn’t that taking it a little bit too far? Corruption is all around you, and you certainly do yourself a big favor to get used to it quickly. Fighting it is a waste of energy. We had to deal with corrupt customs; they decided they would like some extra money in order to release OUR shipment. Nothing really you can do about it. So I went with a pile of money and paid them off.

We went to Goa for 3 nights to escape our then still empty flat. We realised quickly that we went to the wrong end of Goa, the north. It seemed like there was not much left that reminded you of the country we were in. The Saturday night market was ruled by Europe’s ‘hippie’ community, hardly any of the sellers were Indian, everyone had exactly the same clothes on and… its hard to describe but it felt a bit wrong, we did not enjoy it much. The locals do visit the market, as it is a pretty exotic experience for them indeed. They might not realise they are saving themselves a trip to Camden market in London.
We left the north the next morning and for every mile we drove toward the south the big bill boards started to disappear [one ad showing a very happy woman next to a dishwasher and the headline ‘so your wife can come straight to you after dinner’], the trance and techno music faded away and you could see beautifully painted houses, rice fields and palm tree forests. We did not have much time to look around, but we will certainly go back to that end of Goa.

A trip to the Bangalore nursery was unexpectedly brilliant. Wild monkeys jumping around everywhere, very cheeky ones, trying to nick things, rushing around between palm trees, totally annoying the nursery staff, brilliant. It took me a while to be able to concentrate on the plants again, as I absolutely love monkeys ... as most of you know.

Seeing elephants in their natural environment was pretty amazing. We went to a small wildlife park further south; five hours drive away from Bangalore. They took us on a boat safari when the sun was setting, and we saw elephant herds and big buffalos coming to the shores. Did not have much luck with the leopards and tigers; only found fresh paws in the dirt, but they had buggered off already.
The owner of the little hotel we stayed in wanted to convince us to go for a swim with him in the morning, just highlighting the healthy minerals in the water. He assured the crocodiles would always stay further down the lake. What if they are taking a stroll that day? No way.

We found a picturesque little vegetable and fruit market in Mysore on our way through and had a chai break with some locals. They made us sit down in their little market shag, gave us yummy and piping hot chai tea and had a chat to us. What a refreshing experience after being ask ‘madam, want buy soap? Want buy rose water, smell nice? Sir, want buy rosewater for madam? fruit madam, nice fruit, yes madam, yes?’

Still being in the process of settling in we very much enjoy our new life... the weather, the food, exotic fruits and flowers, and the divers Indian culture … I realized the adjustment process had started when re-visiting this rather unimpressing little supermarket we found in our first week… just that this time I was thinking ‘god, this one is brilliant, lots of stuff we can get here’.

Patrik and his boss Keith can't really concentrate on work these days, as a confused wood-pecker is constantly 'pecking' on the glass of their office window thinking it is a bloody tree, and they can't get rid of it. Very funny.

Voila!

Massala everything - 28th of January 2005

They just love it... omelette massala, croissant with massala filling, massala magic crisps, massala dosa, massala-taste chinese ready noodle soups, massala everything. I bet massala flavoured chewing gum would be a winner here!

Pushing a far too small trolley through the tiny supermarkets, people staring at the choice of your purchases, and in the background some funny Indian music is pretty amusing. Some woman come up to you, standing right next to you, just watching, and then taking the same product out of the shelve and reading the label with great interest.
We would call these shops corner shops, not supermarkets. Shopping takes approximately 4 hours.... there is a shop where vegetables are good [meaning not full of pesticides that would make our delicate tummies sick], than at the other end of town is a great place for bread, some other shop sells good imported cheese [on a lucky day], and then there are special places to buy cakes, and certainly special places to purchase meat.
Went to buy meat the other day, was hilarious, felt like going to buy forbidden treasures... you enter this private home in a residential area, a tiny old woman sitting on the floor peeling beans, pointing her head towards two chairs in the corner... I figured it meant I should take a seat, so I did. Another woman came over after a while and walked me to the huge freezer units. Very bizarre.
When coming home from shopping you have to put the vegetables, salads and fruits you are planning to eat raw into a ''Potassium Permanganate' solution, to make it suitable for our tummies as they have been washed/grown in contaminated water.
But we are getting used to it, slowly...

Going to one of the western style shopping malls is great fun... Indian families going there on a Sunday and you can witness husbands trying to get their wife and daughter to take the escalator up to the next level. I guess they have never been to a mall before. They are so scared; carefully placing one foot onto the moving step and then quickly stepping back again, laughing nervously. This is cute and makes you realise that their reality looks very different from ours... they walk around town with entire shopping baskets on their head, to have their hands free to carry their babies around. I guess I would not make such a good impression either when trying that myself!

And yes, we both had our 'welcome to India' tummies. Stacked up on curd, the Indian yoghurt as it is supposed to help building up a more resistant tummy. Stayed away from spicy food for a bit which certainly is a challenge. Went to get a simple snack the other day, a vegetable roll and checked with the guy first if it is spicy and he indicated 'no'. That thing was so spicy that I could not even think about eating it, my tummy would have freaked out. No way would this man not call this spicy... and then I remembered the head wobble. He did say yes! He bloody said it is spicy. I fell for it again, damn!

You don't always feel connected to the people here, the differences in our cultures don't always fill the gap... but there are still lots of situations when you have a laugh about something and someone on the street picks it up and has a laugh with you. Little things… feeling pretty big.

Our current driver is brilliant, he answers a lot of the questions we have in daily life. And he helps me crossing the street [I know, did not think I would need that before the age of 80]. He helps us to distinguish between people we should give money to, and the ones we should not. He is funny, smart and does not say 'yes mam' all the time. He knows all the short cuts in town and helps you communicating with people that are less skilled in speaking English.
A driver here is not just a driver; he spends all day with you, helping you with everything. I know it sounds like a strange concept... but your view changes quickly when being here just for a bit. I did not like the thought, felt sorry, felt horrible.... but having been here for a while you realise that their job is not that bad, and that they know your friend's drivers after a while, so they hang out and have lunches, read the papers, sleep... whenever they are waiting around. Fact is you can't get around here, there is no public transport apart from the little 'autos', but they are not safe and you do inhale fumes which makes you feel rather sick.

There is people everywhere, and it is hard to get some space on your own. But looking at how the locals interact it seems in a way more human than in our culture. Everyone speaks to each other, and if a guy is reading his newspapers sitting in his car it is totally fine for another guy to lean into his window to read the latest news with him.
Imaging trying that in London, someone would most likely beat the shit out of you for being so bloody indiscrete.
Love the details people give attention to here. Woman put flowers in their hair, and even when just sweeping the dusty streets, they dress most of the time better than us on a big night out. Our driver arranges a new fresh flower decoration in his car every morning. Everyone smiles at you here, the south is so friendly and laid-back, which is very enjoyable.

You don't really feel like dressing up here in the daytime, makes you feel stupid, standing in yellow high heals at a traffic light, next to a cow! No way. Loving my muji flip flops, much more low profile. And they can take the needed daily shower with you.
Saw some good looking cows yesterday, kind of dressed up, they live on 13th main street [we are on 14th main], so I will try to find them and take some pictures for you.

Last weekend we went with the Indian times to our local coffee shop for breakfast, the morning temperatures right now are just perfect, and we realised that we haven't done this before, just sitting around watching the honking world go by. God, I bet the day we will leave this place we will miss the honking in a weird way...
Drove out to Patrik’s office campus to pick him up one day, nice to get out of the city, more space and less honking. The campus canteen seems to serve brilliant food, south-indian/vegetarian every day. Will sneak in one day to try it out!

The first time we really got away from the honking was on Wednesday [holiday], we went with a bunch of people out of town, planning to go to the wildlife park as we heard we can walk through it. Apparently that was not possible anymore as a tiger had eaten a baby. Good thing they closed the park for walking tourists at least after the incident.
Went to the zoo instead and felt like we were the main attraction. People giggling and pointing at us, little girls not being able to take their eyes off our strange hair colour. Very cute.

We hiked around the dry countryside a little and were all of a sudden not sure if we made it accidentally into the park. We just talked about how nice it is to see and hear nothing, no honking.... and all of a sudden I hear this sound approaching from the right... similar sound to a motorcycle approaching... I looked and bloody hell... a huge swarm of bees came towards us, thousands of them. It was really freaky.
Luckily my friend Tanya from Kenya told us quickly to lay down flat on the ground, to get out of their way. She had seen these things before. They passed right over our heads; they seemed to have a mission to go somewhere else. Our heards were pumping. Hearing tiger 'voices' after that we decided to turn around. Tanya said they sound like they were in an enclosure, but we did not want to end up in the Bangalore times with the headline '5 blonde stupid tourists eaten by bees and tigers'.

A head wobble from sunny Bangalore

First Impressions - 16th of January 2005

Thought I send you a little sign of life after having been in India for about two weeks now. It has pretty much been an emotional rollercoaster. I was pretty shocked and literally speechless for the first two days, and it took me a while to leave the beautiful and save hotel compound. I have seen places like this before, the feeling is very different though when going somewhere on holiday compared to looking at flats on the second day of arrival and having your life being shipped over in a container at the same time.

Street life pretty much reminds me of that in Saigon /Vietnam. The red soil everything is covered in, the auto rickshaws, the constant honking, and the pollution levels on the street. I learned pretty quickly that you do not walk here, anywhere. Had a brave, or better stupid moment and gave walking a try anyways ... it was the worst day I had so far, not a pleasant experience. Walkways don't really exist, and if they do you will find a lot of obstacles in your way. And people do stare at you which makes it not exactly a relaxing stroll. Driving a car yourself is not an option either, there is no lines on the streets, and no rules at all. Its about pushing into every gap between cars. There are some traffic lights here and there, but usually traffic is managed by man in funny cowboy hats. If they are not there it turns into an absolute chaos within seconds. Cars [and cows, motorcycles, buses, massive trucks] drive with their side mirrors folded in, that's how close to each other they manoeuvre around.

At first everything looked the same here, as it is all foreign to your eye. Plus i started wondering after a while where all these 'westerners' are.
I had a big break through the other day, I found them! I became an official member of the OWC Bangalore, the Overseas Woman's Club. Got ready in the morning to go to their weekly 'get together' at the Leela palace hotel, for the first time. Had the worst thoughts of no-one being there, or just weird old ladies looking at me sceptically. Kind of felt like going to an interview, how ridiculous.

When entering the library cafe to see all these people from all over the world, dressing in familiar clothes and speaking familiar languages a lot of weight fell off my shoulders. Believe me, it was such a big relieve that I could have easily started crying [nooo, i didn't!]. I met woman from all over Europe, the US, Korea, Japan, China, Australia, Kenya, India, etc.
They even published a book on Bangalore for members only, the key to it all! All the information you need in the beginning, comfort. There is so much in this massive city, but you need to know where to go. There is even a little German cafe serving yummy cakes and salads.
Life happens behind doors, in weird side streets, in restaurants, hotels, spas, behind gates, at clubs and houses, hidden places and in cars. Things are not so obvious here.

We met a nice French couple, and were invited over for dinner the other day. It was like coming home. Helene cooked; we had champagne, French red wine, French food and homemade ice-cream. Helene&Pascal just moved here from China. Nothing foreign, just a European evening, with European conversations, what a relieve.

all the money from the membership fees of the OWC and from purchasing their book goes to well selected charities to help children, and other needy people in and around Bangalore.
You do see poverty here, even though Bangalore is probably one of the most developed and wealthiest place in India. The confrontation with this makes it a bit emotional. Giving money to organisations that will help is something you feel very strong about here.
For just 40 pounds you can feed about 100 children here for one month. A lot of them go to school in the mornings without having had breakfast, and at lunch time they will have no food either, no packed lunch, nothing. The thought alone makes me feel sick.
Giving these little bagging babies on the road money would sadly just make it worse, as they will not benefit from it themselves. But giving them fruits and other foods is ok, as they can eat it quickly and will not have to hand it in. Money will just go back to some corrupt organisation [they kidnap these little kids to put them onto the street to make money]. But believe me, you just want to take them with you, away from all that. They are born into an absolute nothing. To see this on a daily basis is so far the hardest bit of India for me. But I will go and stack up on crackers and bananas tomorrow!

You will on the other hand find lot of wealthy people here, people working in IT, all kinds of manufacturing, fabric/clothes design, etc.
Food is amazing here, you can find restaurants from different parts of India and also other cuisines such as vietnamese, italian, chinese, japanese, afghan, really everything... and everything very well prepared. I just love it.
Now that not everything looks the same anymore I realise that there are loads of coffee shops everywhere, selling good coffee. The biggest chains are called 'Coffee Day' and ‘Barista’.

I am surprised that nearly everyone speaks English here. Often I still don't understand a word, but I guess I will get used to the accent. Loving the head wobble though! Brilliant. Can still confuse us at times...
Even a lot of Bangalore an families speak English with each other. That I found very strange. All signs everywhere are in English and even the major newspapers are only published in English.

The weather is pretty much perfect in Bangalore [Bangalore being located on a over 1000m high plateau], it is winter right now... temperatures are around 26 - 27 degrees everyday, dry and sunny. In the evenings the temperatures drop down to about 19-20. Just perfect. i heard it will get warmer soon, and that it can be pretty hot in summer. I guess we will experience this soon…

The cost of living is generally low here. But housing prices [western standard, for western looking people], and hotel room prices are artificially high. Bangalore is growing at a fast paste and its infrastructure is struggeling to keep up, leading into a shortage of hotel rooms and housing.

We had a nice lunch the other day with some girls at a new and really modern and rather westernised place. We paid about 2 pounds per person. As we don't have a car and driver yet, and i got caught up in the rush hour, i could only find an auto rickshaw to take me back to the hotel [usually far too dangerous to drive around with I found], and i paid something like 20p [tip included] for a 15 minute ride.

I hope we will know more on the ,new home' front by next week. We can't wait to have a home again. Hopefully by February we will have settled in a bit more. Looked at lots of places and both fell in love with one, will see if it will work out.

We found a service apartment in the meantime, and will move in beginning of the week. It has its own kitchen/fridge so we don’t have to go out all the time. Most importantly you don’t constantly have about 5-10 hotel staff sneaking around you. It really gets to us. Giving people some 'space' is not exactly a known concept here. We are very happy to move into a service flat until we have sorted out our own place. Our belongings are anyways still at sea...

I start loving this place... there is something about it... and having gone past the first layer of dirt and madness, there is a lot of beauty hidden right behind it.

Nah mah ste for now