India - the Prequel - Part 2 - 12/05

Weather

The first thing you cannot help noticing is the amount of humidity – tons and tons! As soon as you get off the plane or leave any air conditioned space it’s as if you are a plant who’s just had its scheduled misting with very warm water. Monsoon season has gone on much longer here this year than normal and has been pretty severe. It’s surpassed anything on record. So much so that in our hotel room the rain had forced its way in under the balcony doors and warped the wood floors quite a bit. They apparently mopped and wiped up many times a day to no avail. The strength of the downpour was too much. The hotel has only been open a month and a half so you can imagine it must have been something! It was overcast and raining the first couple of days so that helped us ease in a bit. The temps at this time (winter) are in the mid-to-high 70’s. This is very cool to people here and some have an extra cloak on or bundle up their children. With 95% humidity the 70’s feel like a steam bath. Most days it may be a little hazy but the sun is out all day. Our hotel is right across the road from the beach and we are getting the benefit of wonderful breezes every day. Beach is a bit of a misnomer because there is actually a rock retaining wall and the water is deep, so no beach! The road is called Beach Street and is constantly busy early morning until late evening with people walking the Promenade with their families, or walking to work and home again. Some Indian ladies carry umbrellas against the sun, but very few. I have one but prefer sunscreen. I tend to take my forays in three-block segments, hide in the shade, gasp awhile and then soldier on. I have S.A.D. but it’s the summer version. Same symptoms, same problems, only in reaction to sunshine and heat rather than overcast and rain. As the regular S.A.D. people are starting to perk up in spring, I start the long descent into the depression of living through the sunshine and hiding out behind sunglasses and in air conditioned rooms with the blinds pulled. In September, just as the regular S.A.D.ers start their decline into winter depression and get out their light boxes, I get tremendously happy and energetic. India is definitely a challenge, but also a privilege to explore, and I’m happy to be here. Besides, when the going gets tough, the tough put on shades and go shopping, right?

Hotels and Water

DH (Dear Husband) stayed at a hotel on the opposite end of town in January (‘The Ananda”) when he came to India for the first time. No ocean breezes, right in the middle of a heavy traffic area day and night, and heavily pesticided. We had dinner there last night so I could see what it was like. They have anti-pest machines that emit fumes constantly in all the rooms. I could smell it as soon as we went in. It’s a very pretty place - modern building but old-world-style furnishings. We’re both chemically very sensitive so we shouldn’t have stayed for dinner, but we did and paid for it later with headaches. Our current hotel (‘The Promenade’) is very new and considered quite trendy. We have a seaward-facing room and 3 big floor-to-ceiling windows that open like French doors. They have wooden doors that cover the windows and that can be opened like Dutch doors for cutting out as much light as you like. They are not expecting people to stay more than a few days so there are no dressers and a just a few hangers in the half-high closet. We’re making do with some plastic bins and extra hangers I’ve bought at the equivalent of the dollar store. There are a lot of leather decorations on the walls and in the elevators. “Hi Design” owns the hotel chain that ours is part of and they use colored leather liberally throughout. There is a huge statue of Gandhi across the street above the retaining wall, wearing only a loincloth as he often did, conveniently dressed for a swim! Even though I’ve been hand-spinning in public (HIP), most locals seem pretty confused by it and do not connect it to Gandhi spinning on a Charka wheel. The major hotels all have Western style toilets, which is a wonderful thing. Rather than a bidet, they also have equipment for the Indian way of doing things, which is having a spray hose nozzle mounted next to the toilet and a drain underneath. Indian toilets are a hole with boards or steps to place your feet on either side. I don’t know how people with arthritis or bad knees deal with it but they are used to it and must make it work. When you are done, instead of toilet paper there is a jug of water which you splash along the area in question using your left hand to make sure you are getting clean as you splash. In the hotel, you can do your thing on the throne there, and then use the handy spray nozzle to accomplish the next steps. My understanding is that if you are Indian, running water is considered a much more sanitary way to clean yourself, both in toileting and bathing. You then treat your left hand as persona non grata at mealtimes and only touch food with your right. Sitting in a tub of water to bathe in is thought of as dirty - the water must be free-flowing, as in poured or splashed over you the way it would be under a waterfall or as in the moving water of a river or ocean. Most major hotels now have a bath and shower as well as the aforementioned toileting conveniences. Speaking of water, it’s necessary to drink only bottled water and brush your teeth with it as well. Pondicherry (called Pondi or Pondy by locals) has a very high standard of water – it’s one of the best around. The problem is the pipes the water comes through to bring it to you. So the bottled water we get is actually bottled right here in Pondy. To be sure of the water, you must order it and have it brought to your table and opened under your watchful gaze each time. Some less scrupulous places will refill the bottles and try to pass it off and you just can’t take the chance. Thus endeth the boring but truthful accounting of the basics.

Traffic

Whoa! Oboy! Geeze! As DH had told me after his first trip, traffic signs, lights, rights of way, etc. are merely “suggestions” in the Indian traffic system. There are some private cars, but most of the vehicles are buses, trucks and work vehicles. Everyone else is on a motorcycle, a scooter, an auto rickshaw (picture a VW bus put in a vise and squished horizontally from front bumper to back. Then, then take out the sides where the doors would be and put in a soft top. They are called “autos” for short. They are not cars. Only cars are cars. Others are riding in a cycle rickshaw (more like a traditional rickshaw in Asia but the driver is cycling, not pulling it by hand) or a bicycle. Everyone is out there creating lanes where there were none before, 2-3 vehicles sharing a lane, everyone looking for that opening that will let them shoot ahead of the pack. What is scarier is when a couple trucks are occupying the same lane space at the same time and they are coming toward you in YOUR lane instead of their lane. This is all considered legit. No one ever stops completely - they just slow down and maneuver, all speaking HORN. I was rather pleased to hear this because besides English, HORN is the only other language I speak fluently. DH has inhibited my use of HORN greatly in our home town of Seattle, but I am still very fluent. In fact, due to several areas of great challenge to Seattle drivers (using that little stick on the side of the wheel to indicate a TURN and MERGING onto the freeway) I am often highly motivated to engage in HORN with other drivers and teach everything I know about the language. I immediately understood what everyone was HORNing about in traffic here and it made me feel much more relaxed and less likely to die. Very few cars drivers and truckers actually lean on the instrument to make a prolonged obnoxious noise. These people are expert and very much acquainted with the subtleties and eccentricities of the language. I understand why they do not rely as much on signs and lights. With the correct type of tap or toot (and most people DO just tap or toot) so many messages are conveyed. The basic rule is simple. The biggest size has the right of way. Size totally matters. A few of the more common phrases in HORN:

Passing on your left, shove over please.

Passing on your right and I’m MUCH bigger than you so MOVE it.

I’m going out in front of you to cross this intersection first. Don’t even try it.

I’m really big, I’m moving fast, and you won’t win this one Bubba - so shove OVER.

I’m going first - no debate. Oh you want to debate? FOOL!

If you moved over a couple of inches I could slide through this minuscule space on your right and make it to work on time and you’ll have done me SUCH a favor. I’d let YOU in if I was you……­..not!

You are bicycles, I am car, there is no contest. Now move it!

You may THINK you are double-dog-daring me to crash into you if I want to cut you off but you haven’t a chance.

I’m just giving you a friendly mild toot to let you know I’m here and not to try any sudden lane changes if you value your life.

I’m coming around this blind corner and I sure hope none of you are coming around from the other direction – it’d be a real shame if we both crashed!

I'm next! Oh you don't like it? Go suck a tailpipe!

You there! Dog! And you goats and you cows too, don’t change direction or you’re lunch! You rats though – c’mon right out here, we’ll take out as many of you as we can. We don’t like you very much…

And so much much more. This is merely the tip of the iceberg. Animals understand HORN perfectly well and SHOULD, since they are all in the middle of traffic with everyone else!

Then there is the wonderful tenor and sound type of all the sacred instruments. Cars and trucks are mostly the boring old basic horn sound - except when they are backing up and suddenly play an entire popular song at top decibels to let you know. Some cars sound like a French ambulance and beadle beadle beadle along. Auto rickshaws are the most fun. About half sound like Uncle Scrooge on a really crotchety day. Others sound as if they have reached out and grabbed the plumpest bird they can find, giving a firm sudden squeeze for the maximum sound of birdie outrage. Some sound like grasshoppers on steroids and others sound… well…. ­.like various rude body noises. There is one that I laugh at every time I hear it - it sounds like an outraged seagull who someone has just cut in line in front of. What a squawk! The motorcycles all have a variety of horns as do the scooters and bicycles and they are more persistent with their toots. If one is meaningful, more must be better. I sort of get it - the rickshaws are harder to see and their chances of arriving home each night slimmer so they work it more. Helmets? None! Some of the braver Indian ladies drive scooters or motorcycles. They sometimes wear a Plexiglas face plate in front that is attached to a kind of headband so they don’t have to suck in pollution. Vehicles have no pollution controls on them so is does get pretty miasmic. Ladies who are walking frequently take the front fold of their saris and hold it over their nose and mouth. Whole families ride together on the motorcycles and scooters. Husbands, dads, brothers and uncles drive; woman ride side-saddle on the back holding onto the edge of their seat rather than the person in front of them. Often there will be one or more children in front of the dad or on the mom’s lap and sandwiched between the mom and dad. Did I mention there are no helmets? There are NO helmets! The motorcycles and scooters weave, bob and dart through traffic constantly taking what to me are hair-raising chances, but no one falls off, slides around, has their posture disturbed or any of their sari’s folds disarranged. Amazing! Same all around for people on cycles. The motorcycles are mostly Hondas and have names like Esprit, Passion, Valor, and many other testosterone-ish names. The scooters names are more tame, like Speedy and Scooty Pep. It’s hard to describe the flocks and flocks of people on these vehicles that are all moving to their own agenda at the same time. Pondy is considered a small town with a population of (only) 200,000. It’s much less spread out than Seattle so traffic is always congested. Walking is also a very exciting experience. I have a long and checkered past as a proud jaywalker in various cities where it’s very popular - New York, San Francisco, and London to name a few. Here I find I am a rank amateur, In fact there is no such concept in India. The point is very simple. Get where you’re going and live to walk another day. People are masters of the bluff on wheels. Everyone acts as though they will not stop for any reason whether it was your turn (always debatable), you’re much bigger than they are, or you are just as brave (cracked in the head) as they are. Only by entering the fray and showing you mean business and out-bluffing are you to finally make your way across as a pedestrian. At least once each day on my walks I have a private revelation of “Oh yeahhhh, this is IT! I’m gonna die for sure, yep yep! I have taken on a new tack! I find the most businesslike shopping matron and become her shadow. When she moves, I move. When she crosses the street I am practically gum on her shoe I am so close. It’s working!

Time

An interesting subject in India. First there is the mental computation of what time it is on the West Coast in the USA. India is 13.5 hours ahead of Seattle. Therefore I must wait until late night or the crack of dawn to call and catch anyone. It also involves subtraction and addition. Math has never been my friend. If the husband wasn’t inconveniently working during the day I could ask him - as his watch is still set to Seattle time. The concept of ASAP here is quite different as well. Many times when you call down to reception to see if something can be done or brought to you, by the time you are replacing the handset in its cradle, there is a knock on your door. Other times it could be that you seemingly didn’t specify what DAY your request was for and everyone plans accordingly. As DH said, no matter what the response or lack of response, it will never be the same on any given day, even if it is very cheerful! People tend to eat later at night, arrive at work later to start, and just work around the heat and what comes up. Stores always stay open late at night because it’s such a lovely cool time to shop and everyone shuts down for siesta time in the heat of the afternoon. I can’t separate heat of the afternoon from any other heat of the day!!­ By about 7 p.m. heat is no longer HEAT for me, but the rest of the time, heat is just as hot as it always was. You might think that being hot all the time would make you barely notice such things as a menopausal hot flash. Sorry to report that’s not true. A hot flash is just hottier heat than you had before with a sudden onset and a slow fade.

Animals

Many cows wander on roads out in the countryside, and sometimes a small herd will be wandering through towns here and there. Some are owned, some are not. The Brahma cows that are the really big guys pull carts. They have long horns that curve inward a bit at the tips. Often their horns will be painted - one red and the other kind of verdigris green. Huge melted raisin eyes, long graceful faces and very short dun-colored hair. They look amazingly patient without looking long suffering. Tons of goats in the villages and in town being herded by people. Goats in the city arrive in little groups from surrounding villages. They are very obviously milk and meat goats - not kept for fiber. They have very short hair in black and white, grey and brown. The other day on the beach rock wall there were a little group of them, cropping grass, keeping their babies in tow and working their way along the Promenade. Dogs are everywhere. They are mostly loaners and I haven’t seen them run in packs – seems so un-doglike! I can’t call them strays because that implies they strayed FROM someone or somewhere and these are all born on the street. They rarely approach people for anything and know not to try to get into buildings or vehicles. None are spade, and the only groups I see are of puppies who’ve stayed together for awhile. Being a huge dog fan it hurts to see them get mange or injuries and know they’ve just got to deal with it without help from vets or human companions. I think they live mostly off garbage, although some school kids will pet and feed the cuter cleaner ones. I did see a sign at the gate of a compound that said “Attenti al Canem” (beware of dog?) with a picture of a Doberman’s head below it. The next night I saw a Dobie with unclipped ears riding a cycle rickshaw. Perhaps on his way to relieve the night shift? Couldn’t figure out where he carries his Rupees either. Tonight we’re going to a vegetarian restaurant that has a greeter dog that DH has been to before. Finally! A doggie fix! I’ve been told not to touch any of the dogs on the street (because of disease and parasites) which is killing me. This is not to say that people don’t have pets. There are shows on TV about people raising purebred pets and there is a veterinary hospital in town for them. We’ve only seen one cat and a couple chickens. Squirrels seem to be a special ultra-petite variety. Lots of cute lizards. Snakes are around but I haven’t seen them yet. I saw a hotel employee carrying something straight-armed out to his side the other day. It wasn’t a dripping something so I was puzzled. As he grew closer I could see it was a trap with a very robust dead rat hanging down out of it. The area we are in is the old French side of town (Pondicherry was a French Colony for many generations) and pretty open and clean. However, there is no way to keep away rats when so many poor people live in tiny shelters on the streets and refuse is everywhere. Except for the snakes of course! They live for this very thing and are hot on the job! There are crows everywhere with the same body style as Seattle crows, but the feathers just around their neck and upper breast are a brown color against the rest of the black body. It’s like they are wearing a little collar. Could these be ecclesiastical crows?