01.14 poverty

poverty taught me a lot in india. i have not experienced ultra-poverty first-hand but before leaving for india i heard a lot about it. i was actually afraid of how it would affect me. i was constantly warned about beggars and touts. people complained about them nonstop, saying how they are everywhere, persistent, annoying. bad for your peace of mind.

question: if you were utterly broke, hungry, with only the clothes on your back and no one to turn to, would you ask for help, or would you curl up into a ball and die from pride?

hmmm?

exactly. that's the spirit that makes me love india so much.

a quick word on dukaans...
i've been to indian shopping malls and large westernised department stores. miserable places. nobody cares whether you buy something or not. there are too many staff and if you ask for something, they might pause to look at you. and then continue talking among themselves. juxtapose this with the man whose family depends on what he sells that day. if he sells nothing, his kids go hungry.

i'd support him over a department store. any day.

we should stop judging. people end up in situations. some enter into poverty. so many are born into it. i'm just gonna say this: in india you will get asked for stuff. you may even get tricked. you will use your common sense. buy stuff if you want it. don't buy stuff if you don't want it. look at what's going on around you. but do not complain about how annoying people are because i will have no sympathy for your privileged ass!

try giving away your last rupee to the lady who lives on the sidewalk. it's a great feeling. and it will mean more to her than it does to you.

ok enough rant. check out these kids. we gave them a bag of pakoras and money to buy milk. of course, they kept asking for more:) whether or not they "scored", it really doesn't matter...

01.12 love

pyaar, mohabbat, ishq... all mean the same thing. love.

i was just thinking about the man of my dreams.. and must comment on expressions of love in india.

in pondicherry, over lunch with three friends, vik, hari and patrick, this topic came up. they were annoyed at the "hassles" that single female travellers (sfts) in india inevitably had to deal with. it wasn't obvious any time i was hanging with my parents or inside hotels or going around with drivers. i've been pretty lucky. but there were moments...

tibetan bowl massage, my lady?
i had asked raja, a lousy squat pondi shopkeeper, about some tibetan bowls i saw in his shop... a trained healer, raja decided to "show and tell" me their powers with an impromptu tibetan vibrating bowl massage in the store. cool. at first. but in minutes, good vibrations turned into a pervy groping session à la pepe le pew. just to be clear: he was groping me, not the other way around.

the risky business of mumbai trains...
rather than a nice, neat "grope and run" on the street, today i was full-up fondled in a man-packed mumbai train. i felt fingers mashing up my left boob, and noticed a dude's left hand, which he had snuck across his chest, peeking from behind his right bicep, rubbing me up. sensing the laser rays from my pupils burning a hole in his knuckle, he quickly removed his hand.

excuse me, i say to the guy standing on my left
silence.
EXCUSE ME - my face right in his. everyone is looking at me. silence.
PLEASE LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU. I SAW YOU TOUCHING ME.
his guilty eyes still avoid me. two other dudes claim his innocence: he can't touch you with that bag in his right hand. they continue campaigning after i explain he's got two haath and one was just on me. some old man is now yelling at the dude. bingo. yes. now i get it. sad. but true: this is what women-only sections are for. swelling with anger at this fact, and this guy's cowardice, i finally boom in his ear:
DON'T. TOUCH. ME. i consider snapping his photo right there but suddenly feel sorry for him. probably never seen a girl like me this close up in his life.

wheel you maarrry me?
in india you will get asked for your hand. that's just how it goes. even lovely old aruna from the school for perfect eyesight had been chatting to me all week, and finally asked me my last day whether i was single, would i marry a man in india, and was i ready to get married... but by far the funniest marriage proposal was on the street yesterday in bandra: "maadaam... yoo soo beoootifool, moowie shtaaar! are yoo maaaried? i will like to maaarry yoo!" he skipped alongside me as i walked, telling me he'd do anything i ask, but didn't leave me alone when i asked him to.

it's a bit of a shame, because i write all of this off, but i can see how an sft - especially western women - would get really mad. it's an adjustment coming from a society where people don't even look at each other walking down the street to a place where everyone and everything is out there, on display, and up for grabs. boobs included.

ranjith, a really decent, stand-up guy in pondi had warned me about mumbai. i remember him shaking his head, and telling me how embarrased he was. that this kind of behaviour from some indian men gives all indian men a bad reputation. sadly, he's right.

but that's india for you. wherever you turn, in a park, train, museum, peeking at you like in a bollywood flick from behind a tree, eyes burning through your salwaar, there it is: love...

01.12 floating friday

this evening we saw the floating wonder... the ali haji durga.

the mosque was built in honour of the sufi saint haji ali, a big-time merchant. he had renounced his wealth and material life in favour of his devotion to god and his meditation. the legend says that he died during a pilgrimmage to mecca and that his casket somehow floated back to this shore, at the spot where the durga is today.

the durga includes his tomb and a mosque. the whole complex is built 500 metres from the shore so you have to walk along a narrow path to reach it. today it's fine to cross because it's low tide, but during monsoon season, and high tide the walkway is completely submerged, so the durga appears to be floating away.

01.12 mmm... leafy greens

so i have a slight addiction.


i've been sneaking to the paan-wallas every day (sometimes more than once a day). i only do it when no one's looking... i guess that's a bad sign, huh?

i don't know what it is. they are just so good and so fun to eat. traditionally eaten by high-society, paan are the things that everyone can eat when out at night, after dinner at the paan-wallas. i've tried to give them to friends back in toronto and all have had the same response... they couldn't handle it! some people described it to chewing a mouthful of candied insense. yes it's true, when you eat the stuff you can feel the aroma of it swirling in your mouth and out through your nostrils. very much an acquired taste. they taste the exact same here as they do back in toronto's little india. but back in toronto i didn't have a paan habit.

paan is the indian after dinner mint... it's chewed to give you an aromatic, refreshing taste, to sweeten your mouth and breath. it's made from the betel leaf, onto which the paan-wallah spreads some syruppy lime paste, then covers with coconut shavings, dollops of sweet cherry paste, rose paste and sprinkles with little fennel seeds, anise seeds, tiny little red candies and some other miscellaneous spices and stuff. i love watching as the paan-walla's dextrous fingers wrap the leaf with all this inside into a little triangle and bam! you got paan.

my mouth is watering just thinking about them... and i've already had one today.

the thing that makes paan more illicit is the traditional method - most people have paan with betel nut shavings. some say it's not betel nut but another related seed. both are really hard rock-like things. some, like my great-grandmother, also take their paan with chewing tobacco, which they spit out. actually i think she opted for just the chewing tobacco alone, without the paan! but that dark, lovely, sweet and heavy aroma....mmmmm!

personally i prefer 'virgin' or sweet paan - what is called 'mitha' paan. it's supposed to provide good digestion and clear the blood, the betel nut has been banned back in canada because it's been linked with mouth cancer. i think it's mostly the chewing tobacco that does that, but that's just my guess. i hope a few mitha paan won't kill me!

01.11 mirror mirror on the ceiling....

today's mumbai cab had drrrrty mirrors.

on the ceiling.

01.11 mystery fruit

mumbai market. this fruit was coal-like on the outsite (even left black smears on stuff like coal), but pear-like and yummy inside. he told what they were but in my haste i didn't write it down. mystery fruit!!

01.10 hindi 101

i had to pick up some hindi while in hindustan.

i'm not 100% courageous in using what i've learned, but i'm working at it. it's been funny being with my folks because they didn't grow up speaking hindi, only hearing some other people use it, and in east africa no less... but immersed in it now, they sound like true hindiphiles.

if anyone's up for a little hindi lesson, i'm laying down some key phrases here...

hello = NAMASKAR
hello (in a rajasthani village) = RAM-RAM (hands in prayer pose)
ok = ACHHA (best with the ihw)
please = KRIPYA
thank you = DHANYAVAD / SHUKRIYA
how are you = KYA HAAL HAIN
my name is.... = MERA NAAM HAI....
your name is? = AAPNA NAAM KYA HAI?
no problem / my pleasure = KOI BAAT NAHI (best with the ihw)
i like it a lot = MUJHKO BOHOT PASAN HAI
where is the bathroom? = MEN'S /LADIES NA TOILET KAHAAN HAI?
it is nice to meet you = AAP SE MIL KE KHU-SHI HUI
take me to my hotel = KRIPYA MUJHE HOTAL LE CHLIYE
how much does this cost? = YEH KITNE KA HAI?
it's expensive = YEH BOHOT MEHENGA HAI
this = YEH
to make a phone call = PHONE KARNAA
where's the phone? = PHONE KAHAAN HAIN?
what time is it? = KYA SAMAY HAI?
help = MADAD
doctor = DOCTOR
police = PULIS
taxi = TAXI
tea = CHAI
water = PAANEE
do you speak English? = KYA AAP ANGREZI AATEH HAI?
i don't understand = MERI SAMAJ MEI NAHIN AAYA
one, two, three, four, five = EK, DO, THEEN, CHAR, PANCH
six, seven, eight, nine, ten = CHEH, SAAT, AAT, NAU, DAS
come here = IDHAR AAO
don't touch me = DON'T TOUCH ME

when in doubt, use your hands and gesticulate wildly....

01.09 beautiful people

today i meet up with abbas, another torontonian in the 'bai.

at india gate, he appears with his sister. he's in head-to-toe electric "talk-to-me" blue, a massive camera dangling from his neck. with the tou-rist 'tude, we head for lunch.

after, we walk down what must be "madaaam" street for a session of nodding and smiling and politely waving "no thenkyoo" followed by the ihw. at the keychain-walla, abbas orders 40 keychains engraved with the names of all his staff, and one for me, my folks, and my sister. i get mine in arabic, curious to see how it looks. it's kinda pretty...

at jehangir art gallery, painter gautam vaghela's exhibition knocks me out. his ancient fortresses and monumental mughal architecture along with such ferocious, vivid colour and dreamlike mystical creatures floating high above in bright reds, greens, oranges and yellows are pure genius. the old dude at the desk yells over and tells us to stop taking pictures. dude. it's gautam vaghela himself. abbas chats him up and snap snap snap takes his picture. i'm floored. the two other galleries inside are equally as impressive, but gautam's visual style is unmatched.

next off to the market for abbas-style charity work, also what i secretly call "robin hood" action. he buys twenty bags of rice from two shopkeepers, who load them into cabs. off we go, shopkeepers and all, to pick up crates of chai and then finally reach the mother theresa home for the disabled. 400 people live there. they have no families, no supports except for tireless sisters who run this place. amazing to hear three blind girls with facial disfigurations sing so beautifully. one girl, komal, makes purses and greeting cards to sell and make enough money for nursing school. i "buy" a card from her before we go. another girl follows me, trying to tell me something and pointing to her cheek all the time. i stop and give her a kiss but she keeps following me finger pointing at her cheek. i say, "ok - you give me a kiss now!". uproarious laughter. i didn't realise then that she was asking for help. she has a really bad toothache and was in a lot of pain.

i'm really moved. there are so many people in mumbai but none of them appear to be jaded, cynical and negative like so many people back home. on the contrary. so many indians, the poor, the homeless, even the disabled - may not have a shot at any rosy future, but they do what they have to do, what they can, to survive. and that's simply beautiful.

01.07 bright lights, mumbai city

chennai-mumbai. not so hot flight. no, not turbulence. i sat next to an insanely egotistical tennis 'star'. he wants to see his name in my blog - after i explicitly said i don't write about people. well chirag - this is your moment of fame.

[btw, air deccan has no reserved seating! it's chaos. a total khichro!]

ok - my folks. the sweet people that they are, meet me at the airport. we hop in a cab for south-central mumbai. looking out the window, mumbai is slick. dark. damp.

which makes me realise i have not seen rain in my 4 weeks.

mumbai is polar oppostite to pondi. so many people about, wide and well paved streets, loads of tourists, old colonial buildings decked regal flags, so many curious places and faces.

i'm a bit sad - i miss pondi. i've only got one more week here. i'm gonna relish it. as we pass by cinema with thousands of people swarmed outside, i get that excited feeling of being someplace that throbs. the "oonch-oonch-oonch" of the underground club that you stumble upon by mistake in a back alleyway and go in to this whole new world have the time of your life. well it's been a while for me. bring it on.

i'm up for anything. i'm in the 'bai. mumbai baby!