I've been in India for about a week and a half, and I'm starting to think that there may be something conspicuous about my appearance. It's not a bogy, i checked. It's not toilet paper on my shoe, it couldn't be - in India, a damp left hand is the ubiquitous substitute for 'fancy western bum tissues' (and that would be a really creepy thing to be trailing from my trainers...).
People's eyes whirl round like fruit machines and settle, with the sound of bells and rattling coins, on two big dollar signs when they see me.
I think it's because I'm white....
To be fair, this is completely unreasonable, not everyone is a houseboat tour operator or a not so subtle rickshaw driver. (Who's sales pitch involves driving up carefully behind you and, you guessed it, throwing a HONK!! down your ear holes). We visited a park in Puducherry on day two and couldn't sit down for groups of people wanting a photo or a chitchat. This was exceptional even for me, I mean, even in Berkhamsted play park (where I am wont to spend many a spring evening soaring gleefully on the swings) Gordon (aka 'The Incredible Hunk') gets a truck load of attention from the all the babes, but this is beyond that, like grammar's beyond the guy at Berko market yelling about his "panda bananas" (whatever they are). After overcoming the initial unease at being so conspicuous in a foreign culture, I've grown to enjoy the attention at times. Yesterday at Allepy beach, out of interest, some guys (wearing swimming nappies - the Keralan equivalent to boardies) came over to say hello, though they didn't know the word for it. As I've found typical, a mutual understanding was formed that language differences weren't to get in the way of our communicating. A short babble in Malayalam (the language of Kerala) from them is met with a reply to my own invented question, usually concerning my snappy dress sense. - "Why yes this is a fine example of topman indie tailoring! I'm glad you can see past the unendearing sweat patches!", "Yes you do have a big moustache", "No, don't be silly, it doesn't make you look like a peado, you're not white!". People on trains will often smile and/or start a conversation, it's been a brilliant way of learning about Indian people's perceptions of their counrty and ours. For example Sathish, a software programmer, isn't happy about all the rubbish littering the countryside but, "what can I do?" he says. I've also found that a mention of "The Beatles" is met with a vacant stare, (reminiscent of those from any typical musically vapid Durham student when confronted with a comment about a 'wired niche' band like Arcade Fire), but that Kevin Pietersen is our most famous (imported) export. A tragic knowledge gap in my oppinion, a pickle short of a Thali (Indian meal) if you will.
I'll try to write more about what we're actually doing next time (I know Mum!).
Laterz!
Gordon
x
People's eyes whirl round like fruit machines and settle, with the sound of bells and rattling coins, on two big dollar signs when they see me.
I think it's because I'm white....
To be fair, this is completely unreasonable, not everyone is a houseboat tour operator or a not so subtle rickshaw driver. (Who's sales pitch involves driving up carefully behind you and, you guessed it, throwing a HONK!! down your ear holes). We visited a park in Puducherry on day two and couldn't sit down for groups of people wanting a photo or a chitchat. This was exceptional even for me, I mean, even in Berkhamsted play park (where I am wont to spend many a spring evening soaring gleefully on the swings) Gordon (aka 'The Incredible Hunk') gets a truck load of attention from the all the babes, but this is beyond that, like grammar's beyond the guy at Berko market yelling about his "panda bananas" (whatever they are). After overcoming the initial unease at being so conspicuous in a foreign culture, I've grown to enjoy the attention at times. Yesterday at Allepy beach, out of interest, some guys (wearing swimming nappies - the Keralan equivalent to boardies) came over to say hello, though they didn't know the word for it. As I've found typical, a mutual understanding was formed that language differences weren't to get in the way of our communicating. A short babble in Malayalam (the language of Kerala) from them is met with a reply to my own invented question, usually concerning my snappy dress sense. - "Why yes this is a fine example of topman indie tailoring! I'm glad you can see past the unendearing sweat patches!", "Yes you do have a big moustache", "No, don't be silly, it doesn't make you look like a peado, you're not white!". People on trains will often smile and/or start a conversation, it's been a brilliant way of learning about Indian people's perceptions of their counrty and ours. For example Sathish, a software programmer, isn't happy about all the rubbish littering the countryside but, "what can I do?" he says. I've also found that a mention of "The Beatles" is met with a vacant stare, (reminiscent of those from any typical musically vapid Durham student when confronted with a comment about a 'wired niche' band like Arcade Fire), but that Kevin Pietersen is our most famous (imported) export. A tragic knowledge gap in my oppinion, a pickle short of a Thali (Indian meal) if you will.
I'll try to write more about what we're actually doing next time (I know Mum!).
Laterz!
Gordon
x
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