India - some general thoughts

While I was in Chennai aka Madras I visited Ramesh Menon whom I befriended when I was still in NY since Ramesh published "Ramayana" with FSG. Since our exchange of e-mails having to do with the book we stayed in contact and I wanted very much to see Ramesh in person. We spent a very nice Sunday afternoon at Ramesh's apartment and talked about many interesting subjects including my confusion when it comes to India... more about the confusion down below.

Chennai is a big, stretched-out city, hot and with hordes of mosquitos buzzing above it. I did some sightseeing but because I still felt sick from the flu which started over four weeks ago and this overpowering weakness I have been experiencing I couldn't really enjoy it... My original plan was to go to Taiwan from Chennai but it turned out that it's not possible to get the Chinese visa in Chennai so... I was lying in bed on Sunday evening, mosquitos feasting on me (some so heavy with my blood that they couldn't fly off and got squashed by me accidentaly when I was tossing and turning in my bed unable to sleep...) and I decided to take the 11 pm train back to Goa with a stopover in Bangalore (and from there, after a few days' rest, back to Mumbai for the Chinese visa). I quicky packed and was off in a flash. The train to Bangalore was luxurious first a/c class because it was impossible to get the simple sleeper (no aircondition and no sheets but space to stretch out and much cheaper). In Bangalore I boarded a train to Lusi, Sasi, something of that sound, to get closer to Margao and Palolem Beach, back to my already missed "home" - The Rainbow Coco-huts. There were only "general class" tickets available and "general" means something that looks like cattle car... and among the cars there's one "for ladies only" and I got on this one since all others were packed beyond limits. I founded myself among a group of women who were returning home from Bangalore from a conference commemorating the silver jubilee of The Art of Living Foundation founded by Sri Sri Shankar. I have never heard of the organization before and the man, and it's very strange since it seems it is a huge and powerful organization (http://www.artofliving.org/) doing a lot of great things. It was the first time Indian women talked to me (usually they hide behind their husbands, fathers, brothers...). We talked for about 12 hours, almost the entire trip. It was amazing to me how enthusiastic they were about their lives and at the same time how aware of the limitations imposed by the culture they live in. They possesed the wisdom of someone who understands the conditions in which one lives and accepts them but at the same time, knowing she can't make any changes on the grand scale, makes changes within herself and her closest environment. Their husbands were travelling in other cars and they were rejoicing the time they had for women talk and for singing. They were girls and young women and older women and even the older women had a very modern take on women's place in the world. The Art of Living organization goes beyond cast, race, background, religion and it was very refreshing to see how among these women only "humaness" rules, how it's the highest value, and the outlook on life and reality is not shaded by any cultural or historical bias and prejudice. To find people such as they in India is most incredible because they were raised and they live in this culture were everything is, indeed, so segragated... Which brings me to my understanding, and my confusion, about INDIA:

There can be many perspectives on India. The main two, I would say, are such:

1. From the Indian (or should I say Hindu? having to do with the Hindu religious-philosophical thought) perspective: Everything in India is as it should be (i.e. the caste system, the tradition, culture, all is a part of the divine plan and universal reality and it takes its own course) .

2. From the Western perspective: India is a so called failed state (i.e. the government is extremally corrupt, the country faces enormous economical and political problems, it is also grossly overpopulated and polluted.)

For some people I have talked to the two perspectives are mutually exclusive, and for others, me included, they are not mutually exclusive.

I want to say here that I feel it took me about a month to recover from the cultural shock I underwent when I got here. I wasn't writing about this much before because I didn't know what to do with these strange, and often negative, feelings which I haven't experience anywhere before. I couldn't make heads or tails of myself... and that has never happened before. Everything at first made me feel very uneasy... When in Nepal, one of the foreigners I met told me that he had the feelings of repulse, annoyance, disgust... when confronted with beggars, poverty and "lack of manners" in Nepal (and Nepal is not nearly as bad as India). I thought "how sad he cannot see the culture beyond the superficial dirt of the streets, etc. and thinks of his own comfort only; how sad he has no compassion for the beggars..." And here I was, standing in the middle of the train station in Varanasi, disgusted, annoyed, repulsed, abhored, outraged, angry... on the verge of going back to Nepal. The floor of the train station, and a lot of sidewalk outside it, is covered with sleeping people in rags, men urinate on the walls inside the waiting room, the stench of urine and unwashed bodies is nausiating, decaying garbage is everywhere - very rarely you will see a garbage can, cows walk on platforms and dump their dung... [What I had read and heard about the holy cows is true - they are truly Holy in India. I have not seen one skinny cow here. Humans are dying on the street and no one pays attention to them but if you accidentaly scare or disturb a cow it will not go unnoticed: you will be scolded.] I was standing there, thinking: this is humanity deprived of humaness - an undishtinguished mass of bodies... about whom nobody cares... why is it like this?! who is responsible for such degradation of people and culture?! Many times, even in Mumbai, I walked by people lying on the streets and wondered whether they were still alive or already dead, and if dead how long it would take anyone to notice and to report and if reported, what happens to the corpse? The amount of people living on the streets in big cities is incredible... I read that one-third of inhabitants of Mumbai live in slums. Confronted with this you ask yourself all these questions... and wonder around stunned and torn by feelings you come across for the first time... And then the baggers chase after you... In the beginning you give them some change or food but there are so many of them, that in the end you run away... You also see a lot of abuse among the beggers. You see mothers hitting their infant babies so that they cry and the donations are greater. You learn about parents mutilating their babies to "adjust" them to a begging profession. You see kids handing out a deaf-mute flyers in the morning and selling you things, broading about the cheap price in loud voices, in the evening. Begging is, indeed, a profession in India... But, of course, for some people it is a way of life, for others a necessity. So I ask myself where is the government of this country and what it's doing and why it spends money on atom bomb instead of sanitation and education? But, of course, the situation doesn't only have to do with bad governing; it also has to do with religion and tradition. At first it seemed to me that the forces which affect this country are very different from the forces influencing life in any other country I have seen before. And, looking at the abuse among the poor, it seemed that the "core," about which I wrote earlier and which seemed to be the same in all the people in other places, was different in people in India. It seemed like some of the universal values found in other places didn't exist here. To get on and off the train you have to push your way with your elbows. There's no such thing as a line to, for example, obtain a train ticket - everybody is trying to get ahead of everybody and whoever is stronger gets to the window first. You are stepped on, pushed, speat on if you don't swearve in time to avoid the mucus as nobody looks around, sneezed and caughed at right in your face, and nobody ever says "excuse me." There's no such thing as "personal space" and for someone who comes from the environement where the personal space is observed one, like me, can have the feeling of being intruded, violated... But then, I came to understand, the people with whom I am in contact most of the time (because of my backpacking cheap way of traveling) are the "low-caste" people - the people who for centuries have been deprived of self-respect and dignity. Politeness is not something that occupies their minds in the struggle to survive. When you board the a/c car it's very different: high manners and smiles. Here the educated and powerful reside. It's a very different story... so it's actually not as different as what I have seen in South America. The poor (who are also a different "caste" in a way, a caste of indigenious colonized peoples) there, however, do have self-respect or they begin to have it and it shows in the political life as well. In South America the descendants of the colonisers claimed to be the smart and able ones to rule the countries, in Europe of yore there were kings who claimed they descended from God himself, and here there are Brahmins who are also descendants from God himself... And, of course, those who are in power (who come from the higher castes) will not want to let go of it (and the comfortable life it guarantees). They will justify their right to control and rule however they can to stay in power. They will call the holy scriptures, history and tradition as witnesses to their rights. It took the French revolution and the Russian revolution and the various uprisings and movements of other-then-the-ones-who-descend-from-Gods to bring better living conditions to all. I wonder if this will ever happen here? It happened to the British rule but the internal tradition is much stronger to overcome and to question. During this past weeks I talked to people from different castes and different backgrounds and it seems that India is torn between the cast tradition and those who would wish to see India free from it and all that it brings. The women with whom I talked on the train were telling me how they volunteer time to teach kids to read and write in the countryside and in the cities' slums, and their parents about hygiene and health. They came from different castes and backgrounds, some where educated working women, others were homemakers. It seems that what the government doesn't provide is done by non-governmental organizations and people who take matters in their hands and by changing the lives of communities (entire communities, not just one particular caste group) near them, they are changing the country. The women were telling me: "Ours is a developing country" i.e. "there's hope for it to become a country where the higher living standards will apply to all people who live in India." So, now, when I got over the confusion, and can see what forces govern life in India, I feel that I would like to learn more about it and talk to more people. I feel that I begin to understand what life is about here. It takes a while to get used to India. When I talk to tourists some tell me they hate it and want to get away immediately and they leave before the get used to it... Others love it from the beginning - these are usually the ones who came for the spirituality: to visit yogis, ashrams and learn about the ayurvedic life-style. I personally believe that you can be on a spiritual path anywhere, in absolutely any place in the world, and attain the peace of mind which makes life calm and thrilling at the same time - you can stand in the middle of Times Square in New York and feel at peace with the universe. However, there are people who believe they will get to some positive conclusions fast by coming to places like Tibet or India and some of them do, indeed. There's no one way, of course...

I have also read two good books recently which gave me insight to the historical, political and economical background and changes in India. One is Rohinton Mistry's "The Fine Balance" and the other one is Salman Rushdie's "The Moor's Last Sigh." I very much recommend both.

A few more words about Palolem. It's becoming one of my favorite places in the world. It's nothing special, really. A nice beach but can't say that it's as nice as the Caribbean islands or even the Baltic coast. However, the atmosphere is just amazing. The people who run their little businesses here and the crowd of tourists it attracts are just really really nice. There are a few restaurants/clubs with really good open mike nights and one street (we call it "the town") which has everything one needs. Before I left for Chennai I met Agnieszka and Michal who are Polish but live in London. The four of us, Agnieszka, Michal, Jim and I, rented motorbikes and wondered along the coast. We went to nice deserted beaches north and south of Palolem and inland to see the villages. The time spent with them was a really great time and I miss their company. We'll be in touch and visit each other in the future - it's that type of friendship. This time my neighbors at the Rainbow Coco-huts are Josi and Ayal from Israel and we enjoy talks at the Rainbow restaurant, dinners and music in the evening. A few days ago we went to a discoteque at a club called Titanic and it was wild fun to be dancing in the tighly sqeezed group of people from around the world, of all races it seemed, interestingly clothed, tatooed, body-pierced, dreadlocked, and otherwise hm... enhanced? What I like in Palolem also is that nothing is too wild here - the artistic and bohemian crowd is also within limits. The music stops at 1 am and it is quiet so you can have everything: the music, the party fun, the dancing, but also the quietness of the tropical night... And Ms Watson who disappeared a few days before I left for Chennai resurfaced again, bigger and slightly taugher from encounters with village dogs, and is getting fat on the food I, and the friendly cooks, give her and sleeps under my bed and hammock...

Some of my friends complain that they don't get e-mails from me and the blog entries are rare these days. After the hours spent at the internet places during the past year my patience grows thin for them... In India, and especially in Palolem, the power cuts are profound - sometimes most of the day there's no electricity. I will get better when I settle somewhere and have a regular access to reliable comps and electricity flow - I promise.

I am going to stay here a few more days and go to Mumbai... I haven't booked the train ticket yet... it's so hard to leave Paradise...

Many kisses and hugs to all my friends and faithful readers!

Chennai (previously Madras)

I got to Chennai yesterday afternoon after 24 hours train ride from Margao in Goa. Just a short note to let everyone know where I am. I am at the end of my rope with the malfunctioning internet places and power cuts. I will write more when I am sure what I write is not lost. Hugs to everyone.

Diu, Mumbai and Goa

I have been so busy doing nothing that it was hard to come to the internet cafe...

First regarding Diu. It is a charming island. It is about 25 km long and a few km wide. On one end there's a massive Portuguese fort (with old cannons directed toward the sea, remainings of churches, walls, etc.) , on the other there's a fishing village and in-between there are beaches and mangroves. Next to the fort there's Diu town and it resembles very much the typical Portuguese coast towns: narrow, winding streets, whitewashed houses, catholic churches painted white as well. I rented a bike and spent the whole day riding around the island, walking in the fort, peaking into the old abandoned churches, walking on the beaches and even going to see a very nice sea shell museum run by a retired naval captain. At breakfast I met a very nice older couple who have lived in Kalamazoo in Michigan for 40 years but were originally from Delhi. They told me that even though they come from India, every time they return for vacation they go through the same culture shock I went, life in India being so different from the western culture in which they've accustumed to live. More about it later. Because Nitzan and his friends where going to Mumbai the next day I decided to go with them. We spent three days in Mumbai. It was rather hot and very dry during the day and with pollution added to it, it was hard to tour the city. So I got a bus city tour and went to all the places of interest and just to get the overal feel of the city. It is so far the most westernized city of India I have seen. It looks run down, the way all other places looked, but it was cleaner and some life and hope was visible. It is the seat of Bollywood (the name of the city, from Bombay to Mumbai, was changed a few years ago but "Bollywood" remained) and it is perked up by the glamour of the movie industry and all the movie and other business it attracts. The architecture of Mumbai is fascinating. It is a mix of colonial, hindi, muslim architecture styles and the influence of many ethnic and religious groups is present. We stayed in Colaba district which is labeled as "tourist area" and it has some nice cafes and restaurants and many street shops with crafts. It was very near the Gate of India, a sort of arch looking out into the sea (it was built not long ago to commemorate the visit of Prince of Whales I believe). In the evening we walked around the area and enjoyed the cooler breeze and the atmosphere. The city is surrounded by beaches and it's also nice to spend some time there (but the water is polluted and not good for swimming). Dal, Jess and I were approached by "extras hunters" and asked if we wanted to be part of a Bollywood movie. We jumped at the idea at first (the fact that the scout considered me a "girl" at my age was really amusing; the power of blond hair still amazes me...) and even went to a meeting with all other western girls who agreed to "dance in the background" but it turned out the shooting would be done out in the open air downtown and it would take all day and we decided we had no strength to be dancing all day in that heat. If it was going to be done in the movie studio I would be glad to do it and see how the movie industry works here. The pay for the day of shooting is 500 rupees - a lot for Indian standards. We met some girls who worked as extras for longer than a day to support their trip in India.

In Mumbai our group split. Girls went to Myanmar, Nitzan went to Pune, and Robert and Neate were heading to Goa. I decided to go to Goa with Robert and Neate for a few days. On the train we met Jim from England and the four of us stayed in Margao in Goa for the night. Margao is a small town, also influenced by the Portuguese colonialism. We had a wonderful dinner at a restaurant run by lovely middle-aged couple. We stayed long into the night, talking to them and other diners. The next day Robert and Neate decided to go along the shore (Goa is a long strip of land along the coast and is made up of many small towns, villages and beaches) north of Margao and Robert and I came to the Palolem Beach. I decided to come here because the guide book said that it was the most quiet of all beaches of Goa, without loud "trance" music and all night parties, dope, hippies, etc. It might have been interesting to see such "beach life and party atmosphere" but at the moment I am more inclined toward peace... When we first got to Palolem in the afternoon I thought I would just stay here for a day or two because it didn't seem as quiet as the guide book said. I expected just a few coco huts and one or two restaurants, and instead I found a great number of huts built on poles and a lot of small restaurants streatched out in the entire Palolem bay. However, it turned out that it is, indeed, a peaceful place. All businesses are family-run and the atmosphere in our "Rainbow Huts and Restaurants" is very homely. Vacationers turned out to be very nice people who after 10 pm speak in hushed voices so you can fall asleep to the sound of the waves... There's also a number of friendly dogs running around, looking quite healthy, plump and happy. The past few days I have been waking up before sunrise and walking along the beach with a crowd of dogs, chasing each other and greeting other dogs who live in the further parts of the beach. When we got here I felt really tired due to another of my virus infections (I have been getting whatever comes my way on this trip, all the colds and flues...) and persistent stomach problems. I spotted the only malnurished puppy of about 4 months (named Watson aka the Skeleton) who, as it turned out, got dumped on the beach by someone the same day we came. So the first three days I spent sitting at our little restaurant facing the sea, with the puppy sleeping on my lap and feeding him a mix of raw eggs and milk every few hours. He was healing me with his doggy energy and I was healing him with the food he needed. Next to us was a girl from France who fell into a ditch and sprained her ankle and besides her a Canadian who strained his neck. What a collection of invalids! We spent long hours talking, drinking ginger and honey tea, admiring the run rises, sun sets and everything in between, particularly the food our wonderful cooks cook, the food that is delicious and, most importantly, digestible (and ridiculously cheap...). Jim was making fun of us "the retirees." He sprained his toe, however, playing soccer so now he is the one limping around with a sour face. The puppy from a totally lethargic skeleton, just in a few days turned into a very energetic beautiful border collie-looking dog. I named him Watson because he didn't have any appetite in the beginning (he really was half-starved; it looked as if he forgot the function of eating) and we had to constantly hide the body of evidence (his uneaten food) in the sand so the cooks would not see it, and hence Mr. Watson and I, Sherlock Holmes, were conspiring on the locating... It turned out, however, Watson is a female so we call her Ms. Watson. Which remainds me of Elvisa in Chile, who was also a skeleton and who I hope grew up to be a powerful cat.

Today early in the morning we went on a boat-trip to see the dolphins. We saw a few couples and a few lone ones which also must have been a part of a bigger group. It was very nice. I saw one from the shore yesterday morning as well. I love places like this, I really do. It's not as charming as the Caribbean (except for the dolphins there's not much marine life to see) but peaceful and relaxing. (The marine life is compensated, however, by daily bull-fights: the holy cows which take laisure strolls down the beach do some head-pulling for the amusement of other cows and the sun-bathers.)

Robert and Neate made their way south and joined us. The group seems to be staying here for another week or more. I think I will stay for three more days and head to Bangalore.

I will write about my impressions on the Indian culture soon.