so, where did we leave off? varkala i think. from there i took a train to bangalore, where i spent the day waiting for my connecting trip with a lovely gal who i befriended on the train. she took me to her college where she was having a 'send-off' (essentially a going away ceremony) since she was leaving her teaching position. i was made a reluctant guest of honor; they put me in the front of the classroom with the other teachers, gave me flowers, and even forced me to make a speech. (they tried to get me to sing, so the speech was a compromise). india is not the best place for a wallflower like me...i am constantly forced into situations where i am the center of attention. this is one thing i will absolutely not miss.
and hampi. a different world from this one, boulders and temples everywhere, broken down palaces, baths, mosques.. stayed in a guesthouse overlooking a rice field, with sunset views and a porchswing (to quote lonely planet). rented mopeds one afternoon and drove along one of the most picturesque roads in the whole world. the world! and it wasn't so scary, except when a bus appeared on the horizon, or when i had to navigate a herd of goats. they must be the absolute stupidest animals on the planet...
bombay. so far, it's been a strange experience. strange in the way that canada is strange - so by strange i mean normal. but a normal that is only normal if you've never left the bubble that is western culture. you follow? there are indian girls here who drink beer in public and smoke, and wear tight fitting clothing. yes! and people in expensive cars, and not a rickshaw in sight. and pubs. pubs with not just men, but women too! and movie theatres on every corner, and even a nightclub that has a queer night. i ventured into the 'taj mahal' today to find the singapore airlines office, and the place was full of stores like luis vuitton, or up-market indian silk shops. and lots of rich indian men on cell phones, and badly dressed tourists talking loudly.
but it's not quite canada. there is poverty here like i've never seen. the traintrack into bombay was lined by shacks made from tin and plastic, falling down and littered with garbage. and we drove through these slums for miles and miles. strange feeling, watching all this go by from a moving train, always an observer, always on the outside of what it is to truly live in this country, what it is to be anything but a tourist, an observer.
the train ride - ah the trains. there is nothing more indian than an indian train (from my humble outsiders opinion) first came the chai-wallas, with that totally inimitable monotone recitation, then came a little boy doing circus tricks down the aisles, contorting himself and flipping end to end. then came a little boy, deformed, sweeping up the litter and then pleading for coins. then the beggar families at every stop - stroking me through the window, poking me and pointing at their empty bellies. then the blind beggars, who sing these beautiful haunting songs as they slowly slowly slowy walk one foot in front of the other down the aisle. then the uniformed samosaidlyvadasamosaidlyvada sellers, who are clearly making an hourly wage since they move like lightning and are gone before you can meekly put up your hand and say "pardon me?"
last night i went to chowpatty beach (like in a rohinton mistry book!) and ate some very delicious deep fried balls filled with chickpeas and dahl, and then a strange dish that seemed to be composed of cereal, nuts, noodles, wormy-looking things and some sauce. it was also delicious. then we pigged out on saffron and pistachio kulfi...my god. i think if i had to live off of one thing forever that would be it. we met a sikh couple who explained some of the intricacies of the dessert menu and then found out they were from surrey and own the 'kwality' store in abbotsford.
tried to sit on the beach for a while but it's hard to enjoy the scenery when there are five men in front of you trying to sell you a massage, a bag of peanuts, a chai, their first-born child... i caved and got a foot massage (he already had my foot in his grips, what could i do?). it was an interesting experience, mostly consisting of him rubbing a copper disc up and down as hard and then occasionally squeezing all my bones together and then pulling my toes out of their sockets. he kept yelling "good?! GOOD?! this good?!!" what could i do but nod and suck back my grimace?
well, on monday i'm off to udaipur. then from rajastan i go to delhi, varanasi, bodhgaya... and maybe a golden temple thrown in somewhere. i've extended my flight to bangkok until the 10th, but it's still rush rush rush and then off to southeast asia.
ok, signing off.
let's hope this works...
1 comment:
you must go to the golden temple. You just must.
Post a Comment