Carol’s India Blog

I love all these wacky comments – and Rosemary’s observations are brilliant! But where are all my men friends? Have they all got bored? About time we had a comment from the big man!

I have not tried the chappaties yet, but I think they will work very well on my new roti pan and yesterday I bought a wooden rolling pin – it cost me 20 rupees which is about 30 pence so I hope it proves to be a useful piece of kitchen equipment – I can’t go throwing money around.

It’s getting hot here, even the breeze is very warm now and riding pillion on the motor bike is good, much better than the sweaty bus. It is sheer torture – crammed into a metal box in the searing heat with hundreds of other people is not a pleasant experience. But can’t complain – my house stays cool as it has virtually no windows and I have made some friends by travelling on the bus everyday . Mainly young men wanting to practice their English or wanting me to get them a visa! I also have a new Oriya teacher. He is deeply religious and as soon as he met me he felt a connection. He believes we have been connected to each other in a previous life – he has not gone into details yet as to what and where this previous life was. I suspect a visa or money request will be forthcoming, or possibly can find him a well paid job – they seem to think that we ( i.e Anna and I ) have super powers. I will report further on this!

It was a big religious holiday on Monday – Shiva’s birthday – so lots of fasting, chanting and generally making a noise. I had the day off so I went to my favourite sea side town – Golpalpur. Actually met another European – a young Austrian who was in Indian learning to play the sitar. He looked and talked as if he had just stepped off the set of a late sixties movie and had just spent a month in Kolkata with the great master of sitar Ravi Shankar. Who, I must admit, I thought died years ago but apparently not, he still plays concerts with his daughter. One thing about being here is you realise the world is full of strange people – wonder what makes an Austrian come to Indian to learn to play sitar – they are not a nation renowned for their free spirit – still takes all sorts! Maybe he was wondering – what makes a middle aged British woman come to rural India and leave all her family, friend and comfortable life behind.  Anna reckons VSO volunteers are all gypsies, mis-fits or people searching for something!  

After the beach sat outside listening to all the chanting and singing – as a result I am covered in more mossies bites, having just got them under control! I now have anti – malarial tablets so I await Lewis’ advise on dosage as there is nothing on the box. That 6-month contract he did in tropical medicine has come in very useful. In fact my children have been fantastic – Greg doing the blog. Barry looking after my finances and flat, Lewis being the doc and my little Evie propping me up and giving me all the news, plus Indian information through her work! I really appreciate all the emails, letters, phone calls and texts from friends and family, and we can only hope those 2 mad Alva wummin don’t drink my share of the wine again this Friday!!

See Princess Anne visited my museum on Wednesday – I was a bit miffed that I was not on the guest list, couldn’t have gone but would have been a nice thought on the part of NLC. However I was there in spirit!

In my next entry I will tell you all about my bizarre experience at the local school! This is a very strange, but very endearing country.

Good to know that romance is not dead. It’s the wedding season here! In the nearby town of Berhampur the streets have been blocked by processions of rickshaws and carts carrying bands and huge speakers blaring out ‘bollywood’ music, followed by young men dancing very badly or very strangely! Women don’t feature in this procession, as this is the bridegroom on his way to get his bride who is waiting for him at her home. The actually ceremony goes on for more than 6 hours, and after they are married the bride and groom go to his family home where the ‘reception’ takes place. The bride is supposed to look downcast as she very sad to be leaving her family. She will now be part of her husband’s family. According to tradition she will not be allowed to leave her ‘in-laws’house for 15days after the wedding. I did wonder if this tradition was to prevent her running off home! This is my version of events and I am sure there is lots more to it. 90% of marriages here are arranged between the families, and people marry very young.

I have been at 2 wedding receptions this week. The first was in Berhampur, when I was takne by the boss and sir. We were welcomed by the groom and his family; the bride was shut up inside the house. We went in to say hello, she is not allowed to speak, sat for a few minutes and then went outside to partake of the wedding food. Veg curry, rice, dal and some other unidentifiable vegetable dish, with mango juice and water to drink followed by guess what –very sweet rice pudding!

The second wedding was a hundred yards from my office. 2 sons were getting married and the father invited us to come and share the food. Everyone from the neighbourhood was there and there was masses of food, in huge cauldrons. We were served seated on the ground on plates made from leaves. Guess what was on the menu – rice, veg curry, and some other unidentifiable vegetable dish – it was very good! Water to drink and you’ve guessed it – rice pudding to follow! The entire local school seemed to be there. The reception took place out the back of the house under a temporary structure built of bamboo poles and leaves. The brides were not there as the marriages had yet to take place. The people here are very hospitable, the father of the bridegrooms was seems very happy that I was there and kept asking if the food was good and what did I think of it all. These people are very poor and the food must have cost them a lot of money. Many weddings are much more elaborate with the women dressed in fabulous saris but at this one many people had just come in from the fields – a simple affair with good simple food. The music was blaring out as I left the office at 5pm, so I guess the procession was about to move off to the brides’ homes to snatch them away from their families. And now I am at home what do I hear but very loud wedding music – set to go on all night no doubt, still it makes a change from the temple chanting!

The big news from here is that the bosses elder son (aged 9) has typhoid fever. He seems to be on the mend now, but has lost lots of weight, mind you he was very chubby so he looks much better. I can’t believe I have actually seen someone with typhoid, hope that’s the first and last time. I only drink water that I have boiled for several minutes,  after its been though a filter, or if out I buy bottled (making sure its sealed) and I never eat uncooked vegetables, really miss salads. When it’s this hot eating curry and very ‘hot’ food makes you sweat even more. I do eat somosas from the stall near my house but they are deep fried in front of you. At the city stalls the food is piled up already cooked and covered with flies, I would never eat anything from them. Eating out is risky, as you have no idea what the conditions are like in the kitchens so I tend to avoid it. there are no nice resturants anyway. The other medical news is that I have had my first parasite, diagnosed by Doctor Lewis (by text/email) as cutaneous larva migrans, a very common parasitic helminth infection that travellers to hot countries get in their feet. I don’t want to know any more thanks! It seems to have cleared up now thank goodness. I knew I should be wearing closed in shoes and not flippy sandals!

Honestly its puts you off eating or drinking anything unless you have cooked it yourself except coffee or chai that has been boiled for hours. I had my first glass of sugar cane juice from a stall today, bought by the boss who made sir monitor the making of the juice to ensure that no (dubious) water had been added as apparently they often water it down, very sweet but very pleasant. I think my sense of smell has disappeared! When I first arrived in India it was the smell I first noticed – made up of a variety of exotic, pleasant and unpleasant smells, and now it has to be really strong before I even notice. Even crammed into the bus unable to ‘put a fag paper between you’ as an old employee at Summerlee used to say, I don’t really notice the smell, which judging by the state of some of the passengers must be pretty strong! Or maybe I am now just as smelly as they are, I will ask sister Sue when I see her.

It’s Friday night here so it will be a few glasses of wine for the girls back there is Alva and it’s a solitary movie night for me – cried my eyes out at the last film , called ‘I am Sam’ Beryl’s choice I think. Something more cheerful tonight!  Over and out from the biggest democracy in the world.  Take care everyone and stay warm.

I thought when I came out here I would lose weight but no such luck. Everything is deep fried and what with all that the rice, it tends to counteract the fact that I live on vegetables and dal. Not strictly true now as I have rediscovered the joys of cooking and have been experimenting. Tried Claire’s receipe and recommend it.

I bought a non-stick roti pan last weekend, and Pravasani and Vratima (the silent one) have been discussing who is to inherit this fantastic piece of kitchen equipment when I go home. Made some pancakes on it and they were fantastic, much better than I ever made at home so I may just slip it into my suitcase. People are always feeding me – and as in every culture it’s insulting to turn down food people have gone to the trouble of preparing. This plus the fact it is very good means I eat it, need to get out on my bike more!

This seems to be turning into a ‘domestics’ edition – toilets next! There have been a couple of instances recently when the Boss’s driver has brought me home at night, never seen so many bare bottoms in my life! The villagers go out after dark on toilet excursions, and whereas the women seem to go as a group, the men are more solitary and cannot be bothered to walk far from the road. They just squat there next to the road and of course totally exposed in the headlights. I am extra vigilant when walking along the side of the road to work the next morning.

I have a very nice western toilet but no infrastructure to support it. (No proper sewage disposal) Anna, my VSO friend, lives in the town and has an Indian squat toilet – basically a hole in the ground – but it is an up market ceramic one which flushes and there are no open sewers on her street. Last week she was doing her washing, which like me she does by hand in a bucket. She tipped the soapy water down the toilet only to watch her best bra whiz off down the hole with no way of getting it back. I was able to point out to her one of the plus points of living out here, she could have dashed out to the front of the house and caught it as it floated past on its way to the main sewage channel. Someone probably came across it in the course of their daily bathe and is now wearing it. Nothing goes to waste here!

Indians are such a nation of traders, they buy and sell anything, even empty plastic bottles and bits of cardboard. No matter how small the village, there are always stalls and cabins selling a variety of goods and always a paan kiosk. Paan is made from some kind of seeds, it is addictive like tobacco and I think it also has narcotic properties and the men chew it all the time. It cannot be swallowed so they spit long gobs of red saliva and it stains their teeth and mouth – disgusting! However enough of disgusting habits – most food shopping is done by the men who spend ages picking over the vegetables to get the best, and haggling over the price, then head for the most popular place in town or village – the chai stand. I guess its their equivalent of a pub and it’s a very male preserve which I only dare go near if I am with someone. Anna and I sometimes go the one at the old bus stand in Berhampur (just near the hotel that Sue and Bill will be staying in,) on Sunday morning where I usually opt for the coffee as the chai is so sweet,. And I love the caraway biscuits they sell from large glass jars so I usually have one of them too – no wonder I don’t lose weight.

Work is much the same as usual this week, but I was amazed to hear ‘sir’ describe himself to villagers as a doctor, he was an optician 3 weeks ago. His 3 months training at the eye hospital must have been quite intense and it’s increasing – wonder what he will be next week!

Its Saturday and I am supposed to be at the office but I have decided to rebel. I have had enough of that hot sweaty bus and I am going to work at home, well not work exactly but write my blog and go out for a cycle. The boss has not been here for days and I have spent the entire week on my own (apart from the office boy) I bet she shows up today! One of the many things I have learnt about working in (rural) India is that the boss (whether it’s a man or a woman) is the one who makes all the decisions (even ordering the tea) and everyone else does exactly what they are told. Nothing happens unless she says so. I can tell she finds my independence confusing but wish she would tell me what to do!

Life here is pretty similar to home in some ways! Get up, get ready, get bus to work, in office all day, get bus home, cook tea! But this being India there is always something happening to divert my attention and make me smile. The other day I was walking the last section of the road to work when a fire engine passed me – it had crossed my mind last week in all the time I have been in India I have not seen a fire engine – and there it was! Actually the term ‘fire engine ‘ is a bit on an exaggeration, it was an open backed, red truck pulling a fire tender almost identical to the one we have in the exhibition hall at Summerlee. There were 2 firemen sitting in the back of the truck and one of them was ringing a large brass hand bell – so that’s where all those old primary school bells went. They must have going about 40 miles an hour tops so I just hope I never require their services! Made me wonder how many house fires there are out here. The houses have very little combustible material but they do have very suspect electrics. Big appliances, and especially computers, needs a stabiliser to regulate the current as it spikes up and down all the time, and every so often you get a nice firework display from the sockets. ‘Sir’ is obsessed with ‘current shock’ and if he is around he won’t let me plug anything in.

I am quite attached to the office now, with the fan on it’s not too hot and I love watching the goats and the water buffalo being herded up and down the road. The men and boys in out in the fields wear these huge coolie hats woven from leaves, or a strip of cloth wound around their heads to protect them from the sun. Its amazing how so much is done by hand, but in a country with so many people it makes sense. The majority of the labourers on the construction sites are women. They still wear their saris, and they carry 8-10 bricks or large baskets of sand up ladders on their heads, and I have never seen anyone drop anything. If that were me I would trip over the sari and end up falling down the ladder.

Don’t want to give myself an inflated status but I think my being here has given the old mother-in law a new lease of life. No one ever seems to talk to her, the temple people bring her food and she is on her own most of the time. I have made a point of saying hello and chatting to her, not that she can understand! And now she is up out of her bed, getting dressed herself and waiting for me every day. She even shuffles to the front door to watch the world go by. She’s always really pleased to see me, takes hold of my hand, and talks away. No idea what about but it doesn’t really matter. With the boss and sir away, she has been showing me photos of her and husband, when they were young. They looked very fine and well dressed. Apparently (according to Pravasani) her husband’s family were very rich and owned lots of land and much gold. The office building and the house we live in belonged to his family. Now she is a widow she has no status, she cannot wear bright colours or flowers in her hair, or the dot on her forehead. I guess that’s preferable to having to throw yourself onto your husband’s funeral pyre as they used to – or maybe not – depends how much you loved him I suppose.

Its been a strange week over here – aren’t they all!

Pratap, the man who takes me around on the back of the motor bike, turned up at my door much to my surprise! Not only does he live some distance away but it’s not the done thing – man going to single woman’s door . He gestured to me to come outside. There waiting for me was a brand new bicycle! I was so delighted, could not stop smiling – I think Pratap finds me very amusing! The boss bought me the bike so I could go out and about which is a complete u turn. I hope she is not expecting me to cycle all the way to the office along that road! It has very haphazard toll system where crowds of men hand about in a small booth at the side of the road drinking chai with makeshift barriers on a piece eof rope. If they don’t know you they lower the barrier and extract money from you. This road is being upgraded at the moment to become one of the main highways, so all the large trees along side it are being felled. Its amazing to see trees with trunks of 5 or 6 feet in diameter being felled with a hand axe, sad though because they must have been growing there for years.

There was another holiday this week which came as a complete surprise. The boss called one morning at 9.30 as I was about to go to work and said ‘today is holiday’ This holiday is a ‘puja’ or religoius festival in honour of the goddess of learning/knowledge (Saraswati) I think. It was all geared around children and young people who seem to get presents, sweets new clothes etc. The chanting has not stopped since – it starts as day breaks and goes on until late into the evening – getting used to being woken at 6m to the sound of chanting and sitars. Now a holiday cannot be spend in my dark dingy little house so I braved the hot and sweaty bus journey. So many people cram onto the bus hanging off the side, on the roof etc you’d wonder how they don’t keel over, and arrived at Anna’s just in time for cup of ginger tea and cold shower – bliss. We went out for something to eat to the only café we trust and then sat on her roof watching the stars, and chatting

More surprises in store – the boss tells me she is arranging some motor bike lessons for me and is giving me the motor bike! Help! Too old for all this but its another possibility for the future; I could become a bikers moll when I get home. And then she announced that she is organising air conditioning for the office which is moving downstairs into what is currently a house – they are having walls built and all sorts – still only one computer though! Actually I would rather stay upstairs even if it is hot because there is a lovely view and I can watch the water buffalo and the next door neighbour at work. He never stops – if he’s not milking the cow, he is repairing the thatched roof, or ploughing, or drawing water from the well to water his vegetables, digging up something, or cutting down something.

After sweating it out on the bus all week I decided that these western clothes are far too hot and I am going to wear Indian ones instead. I vowed I would not do this – I am western woman not an Indian and I will wear the clothes of my culture and all that – but the baggy trousers and loose tops of the salwar kameez are so much more comfortable. Be wearing a bindi next (the spot in between your eyes) but don’t worry the large nose jewellery is just a step too far! And I will develop a taste for chai eventually.

And finally – I have finished watching Pride and Prejudice so with Sense and Sensibility this concludes the Jane Austin season. No copy of Emma though. I will be moving onto the ‘rom coms’ next. So many folks at home have said Slumdog Millionaire is worth seeing so I hope I will get to see it – been told not to go to the cinema in the evening and not to go alone ever!

And finally, finally – great to speak to friends and family on the phone – made my week!