13.11.2004

India 101: Expect the unexpected

Posted by danielle

Click to enlargeMove aside 'Psych 101' or 'Communications 101' - first year uni courses. The greatest learning will unarguably come from 'India 101: Expect the unexpected'.

Click to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeClick to enlargeA day never fails to go by where a random, weird bizarre or insert-surprising-adjective-here occurrence materializes before your eyes. Once you've mastered this constant mental state, you'll save your travel insurance company a hefty bill from the psychiatric ward.

Think of your journey down to the local shop on a Saturday morning. You may expect to walk past a morning jogger or a sleepy-eyed stranger and wave good morning. Hey, you might just even see a cat or two. You engage in a few friendly words with the baker or newsagent, then you'll head off on your merry way, homebound, to sit in peace to read the paper. Yes?

No. Well not in India anyway. Apply the first rule of 'India 101: Expect the Unexpected', and the following scenario will likely occur, not fazing you in the slightest, of course.

You walk down the busy street, only to avoid a skeletal cow on the left standing high on a rubbish heap. High from the assortment of plastic wastage, or a more natural alternative, the greenery from a moldy newspaper. Further obstructing your stride is yet another cow. Tail raised high for maximum avoidance of the last processed meal. Crap, you think - "It almost got me". Indian streets are absolutely crowded with cows. There are cows on the footpath, along every single side-street, main-street, highway and even skyway - after all, cows could fly. Don't be surprised though, always expect the unexpected.

Amidst the slight navigational disruption, you notice that there is a rhythmic pull on your sleeve. You glance down only to find a half naked kid smelling like the cow's breakfast, long knotted hair, torn ever-green clothes and dried mucus acting as a pollution-inhalation-filter. A thick layer of accumulated dirt creates rings around her trunk, revealing her age. The tugging continues until you either donate a coin, or manage to ignore the hungry child long enough. Justifying, of course, that you make monthly donations to Amnesty International. Guilt falls upon you.

Further on, there's a skeletal beggar woman dressed in bright rags. Palm stretched out towards you, hoping that the Gods will shine upon her - one day. Opposite, a long bearded pilgrim, warms his weary body by the glow of a burning rubbish dump. Another, hanging all out, except his lost pride, to take his morning dump. Crap you think, was that cow shit, or hu(rried)man shit?.

You walk past a chai stand where a group of men have gathered to drink their early morning beverage, have their morning chat, and smoke their morning fags. As a non-smoker, you breathe deeply as the lesser of two evils provides a reprise from the foul scents of the streets. In fact, you're grateful when a cow expels its country-fresh-aroma as a distraction to all.

You greet the stall-owner and request a roti and chai. He shakes his head from side to side at your request. No, you think. Yes, he means. The Indian head wiggle is quite a unique gesture, which signifies a response from yes, to maybe, to possibly, I don't know, or basically anything they want it to be. He continues to drench your roti in oil, while making your chai in a take-away ceramic cup. While sipping on the sickly sweet chai, he engages in conversation. "Where are you from?"..."Oh, Australia!!!". This realisation leads to an open ticket to cricket talk where curve-balled questions are thrown from left field. None of which you can answer of course.

On your journey home, you're greeted with a (not so) fresh lot of occurences. From an uprising of holy cows, Indian fashion, train travel, new heights of crapping and everything in between. In fact don't be surprised if these warped tales appear within a square apple down the track!

There's no limits to India's element of surprise. You never know what she's going to serve up, when or where. Always expect the unexpected, and you'll maintain some sense of sanity throughout your journey!

Comments

Hey Justin and Danielle,

Just been looking at your great website, all the photos are great, what a perfect way to document your travels.
I am just about to head down to Thailand for a couple of months, and have found your site useful.
Hope you are both well.

Andy Marich

Posted by: on November 16, 2004 04:06 AM

Dear Danielle and Jus, Wo! What a similar day! allow me to compare your day with mine.
1. You awoke to the sight of a cow on a rubbish pile; we awoke to the sight of a water dragon sitting on a rock, framed by the Pacific Ocean, near our bedroom window!
2. Your morning was accompanied by a variety of smells. So was ours! - the smell of salt from the crashing surf!
3. You were supplying children with their needs (food); I was supplying children with their needs also! (life skills for a corporate, econo-rat world)
Danielle, we must be in parallel universes!
Stay well both of you. My love to you both. David

Posted by: on November 27, 2004 12:02 PM

Ah we are really starting to get homesick for the Australian summer! Might have to catch some sun in Thailand in a month or two and even catch up with you Andy!

Posted by: on December 3, 2004 01:44 PM