what its like - Blogabond

1/23/08
I’ll try to give you a good idea of experiencing life in India (or one sub-culture, of one section of India). The first thing you have to understand is the noise. In every way this is a loud country. The roads are constantly filled with motorcycles, humming rickshaws (without mufflers), hawkers shouting their wares, and above all honking. Honking means a large number of things in this country. The roads are governed by a strict set of rules: who is bigger and who is chicken. The big buses and trucks obviously get right of way, and they honk to remind people of this fact. But the tiny rickshaws generally have drivers with nerves of steel. Their little constantly horns can be a friendly I’m coming up behind you, a do-you-want to ride call, or a I’m-not-gonna-break-so-you-better. Camels and donkeys are as unconcerned with traffik or honking as they would be of a passing fly. Last in the pecking order pedestrians and bikes. We dodge our way lane-to-lane through traffic with angry honks raining in from all sides. The cow is the top of the pecking order, but even these sacred animals get a few beeps of frustration as they ramble into the road.
The second thing is understand is the smells. The streets of Jaipur are a constant nose fest. From step to step smells change from the stink of public urination (a very common occurrence here) to the spicy aroma of somosas and other delicious fry food. The smell of smoke and pollution are never far away. There is the occasional whiff of marijuana.
The third thing to understand is the temperature. You think of India as hot, and we’re told that in 2 months it will in fact be unbearably so. But this is the winter season in Rajastan and that means its cold. Now for Coloradons the actual temperature wouldn’t seem that bad. The temperature ranges from mid-60’s in the sun to low 40’s at night. But the cold is a different experience here. The fact is that nowhere is warm. When you walk out of the weather inside in the US undoubtedly you have the relief of heaters or at least a fire. The buildings are invariably unheated here, and generally built to keep out heat as much as possible. Further, as the temperature dips at night you are faced with a bucket shower (which means frequent bouts when you are wet but not under the fall of water) and iffy electric water heaters. Don’t even think that sink taps have a hot knob. All of this adds up to make you almost constantly chilly.

(if you want the nitty gritty details….)
Life has begun to take on a semblance of a pattern. We get up around 8:10. Emma and I share a single large bed with a massive amount of blankets. We skip out of bed into the cold air to get dressed and wash with cold water. The maid walks in around 8:30 to sweep and is determinedly non-respondent to our greetings. Breakfast with Sunita-ji at 9:00. This generally involves white bread toasted with mango jam or leftover roti (bread) or porridge from the previous night. And also the obligatory chai and Sunita calling from the kitchen that I should pour her some too, but remember, no sugar.
Then we meet our two friends from the other Bapna house and walk the harrowing road to school. A short walk, but a noisy and generally perilous one. We chat with everybody on the school terrace then head for Hindi class at 10: the only rigorous class we are bound to have for the day. This is followed by lunch, various tea breaks served by Rugoo-ji and other classes taught by various people with somewhat flippant self-reflecting content on the ill-effects of globalization or the duty or negatives of, Indian culture.
Class ends about four at which point various people rush to the computers and we eventually coalesce to ‘hunt in packs’ on various errands to Reliance Fresh (supermarket), the post office, or, thus far, cell phone stores or ATMS. I’m sure we will venture to more exciting places as time goes on. Its best to be home before it gets dark. Sunita is likely crabbily complaining about the cold while sitting in bed watching bollywood soaps or about to go out and socialize. She’ll be back for dinner, which is likely to have the most scrumptious food and the obligatory tea.
At night Emma and I take our harrowing bucket showers and settle down to write in journals or study hindi. Just before bed, we watch an episode of Heroes on my computer cringe under our many covers (and my sleeping bag) until the day begins anew.

Today was especially exciting. We spent the morning at the International Book Festival which turned out to be marvelous. There are many renowned speakers from the Rudolphs (who happen to be professors of my parents at U Chicago back in the day), to our very own Rima Hooja (our program director and author of a giant tome on Rajastan) Willian Dalrymple (the author of City of Djinns, a spectacularly written book I’d recommend for anyone remotely interested in India), to Gore Vidal (famous author), to my beloved Aamir Khan who I am thrilled to be seeing speak on Saturday! Who would have thought that particular dream would come true? Will I possibly get his autograph?? PS. Got my cell phone today! 011 91 9784584659 if anyone wants to skype-to-cell me (cheap that way) I would be delighted!

written by

Drie on January 23, 2008 from Jaipur, India

from the travel blog: Adventures in Hindustan

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Dana,
I very much enjoyed your blog. It is very interesting!

written by Grandma on February 3, 2008

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