Q&A

I thought I would take the opportunity afforded by regular internet access to answer a couple of the questions that some of you have asked on the Message Board. Firstly, Dad you asked me what I liked about India, and Vick you asked what I missed about England. I have been giving both a lot of thought, and so here are my current conclusions.

Dad's question made me worry that due to all the tales I have related of heat, dirt, chaos, mad traffic, being stared at and hassled that I have given the impression that I don't like the place! I suppose you can always get more 'mileage' out of the difficult and problematic scenarios than you can out of the beautiful sunsets and situations that go entirely according to plan. Ironically, some of what I find really challenging about India, is also what enchants me too. Just like the characteristics that you find attractive and endearing in a person, can also be the ones that drive you to distraction. So whilst the chaos, noise and frenetic madness of the place are sometimes overwhelming and frustrating, I also find myself in awe of it. The sheer energy and relentless activity demands my admiration. Whilst the driving is ridiculously hair-raising, I can appreciate the skill and sheer guts of the drivers here. I find the constant attention wearing, but it frees me up to gawp unashamedly at the events continually unfolding around me; the street food being prepared, the people worshipping at a roadside temple, the parcels being wrapped for sending home, hair being braided, ears getting a thorough cleaning out, furniture being assembled, a sadhu talking to the school children, the monkeys audaciously stealing bananas from road-side stalls. India's streets provide 24 hour entertainment. In fact you don't even have to be bothered leaving your room; the sounds of bells ringing, chanting, singing, fireworks, horns, and animal noises are more than capable of infiltrating whatever room you are in!

One of the things I love most about India, and this won't surprise you one bit, is the food. I have sampled some wonderful grub here; delicious curry style dishes, my favourite of which are 'mater paneer' (peas and Indian cheese) - a northern speciality, I think, and aloo ghobi (cauliflower and potato) - pretty bogstandard stuff you can get in England but I LOVE it. The aloo stuffed paratha we ate for breakfast whilst trekking was scrumptious, as was the kitcheree (like kedgeree) which was spooned onto my thali plate in 'this'll really fatten you up' portions in Haridwar. I really like the South Indian so-called 'snacks' - which are actually more than enough for a full meal; dosas - a kind of thin pancake thing stuffed with potato/veg/paneer and served with spicy lentil sauce and a creamier coconutty one; I am also a fan of uttapams, which are similar but more cakey in texture. And, of course it should come as no surprise, but they can really do rice here - none of that overcooked, dry stuff or mushy slush that my attempts at cooking it sometimes result in - no, it is moist, fluffy, a slightly nuttiness to the texture...perfect.

As you will have noted, I have also become a chai convert - particularly when it is flavoured with ginger or cardamom. Lassis likewise go down a treat, and they also do a simple freshly squeezed lemon juice and soda drink here that I have long-wished bars in England would start serving. India is certainly the place for indulging a sweet tooth; everywhere you go a dazzling array of sweets, the likes of which Willy Wonka would be proud of, are displayed in street-side counters. I also enjoy all the rituals and customs that go alonside the meal; eating with my hands (although I haven't yet done that with rice), the hot water and lemon for cleaning your hands afterwards, and the fennel seeds for freshening the breath. Finally, I deeply respect the Indian's love of, and conquest over, the chilli (or all things hot and spicy); how they can pile an already eye wateringly hot curry with the extra raw onions and hot chutneys provided at every meal, the addition of masala to soft drinks and the fact that the Lays (Walkers equivalent) crisps come in flavours like Masala Magic, and Chilli Chinese. Fortunately, thanks to years of curry eating in the UK, I am fairly well practiced in the art of chilli consumption, but even I balk at the addition of masala to sweets - in my opinion just an unnecessary spoiling of a perfectly good lemon chew.

What else do I love? The landscapes and physical beauty of the place. I think I have already described this in a fair amount of detail, but two things stand out in particular. Firstly, the way the greens of the plants, shrubs and trees are different to those in England. They are incredibly vivid, as though they are putting so much effort into their greenness that if they tried any harder they might burst, or perhaps turn into a completely brand-new colour, previously unseen by the human eye. It's quite extraordinary. The other thing is the sun, which has a different appearance, not only to England, but in different parts of India. Up in the mountains it was a light, whitish yellow and cast a dazzling, almost harsh light, starkly exposing barren areas of land and hurling itself against the snow, which gamely batted it back with equal vigour. In the Uttar Pradesh, it was the sunsets that mesmerised me; the way the sun turned a bright red colour - it reminded me of a giant Strepsil (throat lozenge) as it slipped with liquid smoothness down the early evening sky.

I also like the amazing animal life here - the impish monkeys, the green parrots that used to fly by as I brushed my teeth at the outdoor sink in APK. The enormous butterflies, and even more enormous spiders. Oh my goodness - the one that turned up in the hotel room in Bageshwar was literally monstrous! In fact I think the hotel staff may have contravened some Animal Protection Act when, on showing them our unwanted guest, they promptly whacked it dead with a doormat! We saw unusual birds with long colourful tails on our Himalayan trek (no, they weren't peacocks!), and an as yet unidentified, giant lizard type thing sloping off into some riverside bushes. I have even developed a soft spot for the melancholy-looking cows, and apathetic buffalo that meander through the streets.

Finally of course, and here comes the big cliche...it is the people that make the place. After only seven weeks, I don't presume to 'get' the Indian people - and with such a widely, diverse population, I think anyone would be hard pushed to ever make such a claim. I am also aware of how frighteningly easy it is to see the community through biased and Westernised eyes. I have, I am mightily ashamed to say, had the occasional lapse into interpreting the blank, open-mouthed stares that have met my enquiries as rudeness, or (and I scarely dare admit this one) just sheer ignorance. The seeming difficulty people have at trying to meet me half way is sometimes puzzling and very frustrating - how difficult can it be to understand that we want to stay one night not two, or that I want a small portion of rice!?.

Another sinful confession (from a qualified social work at that); I have sometimes marvelled, and in my worst moments despaired, at what can appear from our point of view to be a total lack of initiative, or just using your nouse. I have been to other countries where there has been a language barrier, but with some hand-gesturing, some effort and a lot of goodwill I have muddled through - that often doesn't seem to be the way it works here and communicating the most basic of wishes or needs can be a real trial. Add to this the constant ploys to get you to part with your cash and it can be easy to get cynical.

It goes without saying that I have a plethora of examples to counteract these scenarios - my Kindness of Strangers blog perfectly illlustrating this. There are the people that go the extra mile - the staff at the hotel who accompanied me to the bus station at 6am to make sure I got on the right bus, the woman (aptly named Mama) who owns the guesthouse where I am not staying and plies me with cups of chai, whilst helping me sort out my post, the family from Hyderabad who explained the Puja ceremony to me in Haridwar, the family from Kolkatta who shared their homemade snacks with us and prevented us being ripped off by an unscrupulous noodle seller; the man who leapt forward and saved me from toppling flat on my face, backpack and all, after I got my foot caught in some stray rope; the countless people who have provided the correct directions to places, and sold things to me at the right price.

But in additon to that I think I have been reading the situation all wrong anyway. I don't think that, in general, it is a case of lacking initiative, or not being bothered, or simply not caring. It is, as these things always are, a complex mixture of factors. One of the things I do admire and like about the people here is their extraordinary resilience and resourcefulness - and I fear that this may be one of those big, fat Western, and perhaps patronising stereotypes, but nonetheless - their ability to survive (seemingly uncomplainingly) and make the most out of exceptionally difficult circumstances is mind-blowing. When you see houses whose walls are constructed of all manner of random items, grocery bags made of newspaper glued together, people recycling the most unlikely looking rubbish, selling every conceivable type of service, using sweets rather than rupees as change on the buses, running their chai shops on the sides of wind-swept mountains; trekking 45km barefoot, conducting business at all hours of the night and day, sleeping on their shop floors or stalls; children getting up at 5am to do their homework before helping out their parents and then going to school, the way a powercut which would paralyse the UK is just par for the course or a minor inconvenience at the most, the way items and clothes are fixed, and then mended and then fixed again, using any available material or technique...when you see all this, it is impossible not to be flabbergasted and (potentially patronising bit coming up....) humbled by the industry, the creativity, and sheer perserverance of people. This doesn't tally with the other perceptions about lacking initiative or ignorance, and so I am now wondering whether the seeming 'devil may care', 'don't give a toss about you' attitude is just a by-product of stoicism, or part of the survival mechanism somehow? When you have all that going on in life, you can't really afford to get too worked up about whether someone misses a bus, or finds the post office, or gets sugar in their tea when they didn't want it. You have to let things wash over you; just get on with it, conserve your energy. I don't know, this is only a theory and I am more than prepared to be informed otherwise...but it certainly seems to me a more fitting explanation.

There are other qualities I appreciate about the culture and society here, and again if this all comes across as a terribly white, westerrn, middle-class type of response, well I guess that is because I am terribly white, western and middle class, so I won't apologise for it; just be aware of it and try to stay open to other view points (my goodness my social work lecturers did a good job eh?!). There is a lack of self-consciousness that I find appealing - it is there in the shameless staring, the unabashed spitting, washing etc in the streets, the people who will come up to you and brazenly question you...it is hard to put my finger on it exactly (will have to think of some more examples). Perhaps it is simply a necessary quality when so much of your life is lived in the public eye. That contrived, stylised, self-consciousness that is a prevalent part of Western society has not permeated here. Well, at least not in the same way - or my eyes are not trained to pick it up here yet. I mean I suppose the emphasis on religious ritual and ceremony and the whole Bollywood phenomenon do contradict this assertion to a certain extent. But it doesn't seem to have filtered through to life on the streets, to the everyday, and that is refreshing. Hmm, need to give this one a bit more thought.

Another thing I respect and admire about the people here, despite my own desperate quest for beer, is the capacity of Indian people to celebrate and enjoy themselves without the consumption of alcohol! Again, don't get me wrong, apparently alcoholism is a problem here like anywhere else, but it does not seem to be a part of common culture the way it is in Britain. I have witnessed countless celebrations here - there is always a celebration of sorts going on - and been impressed by the way people have fun without drink being on the agenda. And, I am going to sound like some Tory MP now, but there really is a 'family' atmosphere - with people of all generations socialising together. Now I am sure that when you are actually in the middle of that - with all the usual family tensions and politics and you are for example, an Indian teenager, and your Auntie wants to give you a big sloppy kiss, and you have to hold your little cousin's hand, and you'd rather be off with your mates...I am sure that it isn't nearly so rosy, but through the rose-tinted spectacles of the outside (and tourist), it's lovely to witness.

So I hope that answer satisfies you Dad. It isn't the finished article, as it is far too early to know what my overall and lasting impressions of India will be and I recognise that in my current role as tourist, I am only scratching the surface. I will be honest and say that sometimes India seems to be trying its hardest to send me running, screaming like a banshee, in the opposite direction. But perhaps that itself is the draw...it's that age-old adage...things are always more seductive, more attractive, when they play hard to get.

Vick, afraid I think I'll have to leave your question till next time; am seriously in need of a chai! (By the way, for those of you who were reading it, I also finally completed the last blog - 24th Oct- about the trek!)