Thursday, February 07, 2008
Inter-dimensional Global Travelling
Rajasthan - Late January
India so far has been amazing/overwhelming/shocking and more. I am deeply thankful to have this rare opportunity to have made this trip and get a chance to see first hand this often stunningly beautiful and challenging country (and to get to spend all this time with my sister Jen). However, the action barely stops when I'm asleep - the dream-time here has been seriously intense. Maybe its the malaria medication or perhaps India is closer to the astral plane ;-).
Global travelling in the late noughties is an increasingly surreal and disorienting experience. SIM cards, cyber cafes and global conglomerates can make the journey away from home more like a trip to an alien but related dimension. Of course, global corporatism has been going on for decades but it's still very weird to see a Citibank, Domino's Pizza or Baskin-Robbins in even some of the relatively small cities here.
Culturally the fact that so many Indians speak English so well is also at times disconcerting - especially as the frequent remnants of the British colonial past are often so unexpected. Toilets are called the "gents", most of the locals wear "jumpers" often while "making adjustments under the bonnet." I think it is most disconcerting and embarassing for me as I've been struggling to stop talking in pidgin English. It doesn't really help and I suspect some of the auto-rickshaw drivers think I'm simple. Although now and again some of the touts guess that I'm French (at least until I open my mouth) which frankly does seem like a compliment.
Is also at times weirdly British in that most every social interaction is punctuated by tea/chai, there is always the option for toast-butter-jam, Cadbury's Dairy Milk and Lay's potato crisps are everywhere. The Indians also often have that studied and skilled politeness that can be paradoxically be applied for great passive aggressive effect and bureaucratic intransigence. At time service industry staff frequently insist on calling us both "sir". While on the one hand I think Jen is somewhat pleasantly surprised when her presence is actually acknowledged, understandably she is miffed that they still insist on addressing her in a male form of acknowledgment.
Armed with a decent (i.e non-US) cellphone for the cost of $10 you can get a pre-paid SIM card enabling you have a local cell-phone. The benefits can be enticing. Guest houses can be called ahead and in some cause rooms successfully booked ahead (although the technology revolution has not yet solve the problem of ensuring that unwilling guest house staff answer the phone). Also you can be - at least in theory - fully contactable (although fortunately the technology still offers the solution of an on-off button :-) . At times the new technology works alarmingly well - when Jen call to me in Oakland from the Laos a few months ago I would swear the connection was better than from a local cell call.
Although Jen and I have been pretty successfully staying a low-budget guest houses for most of the trip (average room price $6 or $7 each) many of the rooms have cable television! Fortunately the majority of programming is in Hindi and readily ignorable (although there was a certain fascination with "Indian Idol" and "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" - a million rupees which would still get you an impressive fleet of Tata Nano cars :-). Still after a full day of Indian street hassle 24 hour cricket, BBC TV world news, second-rate US network dramas and lost 80's movies offer pleasantly tranquilizing and mesmerizing effects. The low point was our recently considering the merits of watching the 1986 "ahem" classic "Back to School" with Rodney Dangerfield and Robert Downey Jr. Fortunately we managed to hit the off button before too much frontal lobe damage was suffered.
Anyway, the overall result of the weirdly oscillating contrast between the familiar and the foreign that can make the everyday tourist experience shift from the mundane to the seemingly profound on the turn of a phrase or by a fleeting glimpse. Within the inter-dimensional parallel worlds of my global travelling in India it seems that there's only a fine line between what seem so real and the truly surreal - then again maybe it's the malaria medication...
India so far has been amazing/overwhelming/shocking and more. I am deeply thankful to have this rare opportunity to have made this trip and get a chance to see first hand this often stunningly beautiful and challenging country (and to get to spend all this time with my sister Jen). However, the action barely stops when I'm asleep - the dream-time here has been seriously intense. Maybe its the malaria medication or perhaps India is closer to the astral plane ;-).
Global travelling in the late noughties is an increasingly surreal and disorienting experience. SIM cards, cyber cafes and global conglomerates can make the journey away from home more like a trip to an alien but related dimension. Of course, global corporatism has been going on for decades but it's still very weird to see a Citibank, Domino's Pizza or Baskin-Robbins in even some of the relatively small cities here.
Culturally the fact that so many Indians speak English so well is also at times disconcerting - especially as the frequent remnants of the British colonial past are often so unexpected. Toilets are called the "gents", most of the locals wear "jumpers" often while "making adjustments under the bonnet." I think it is most disconcerting and embarassing for me as I've been struggling to stop talking in pidgin English. It doesn't really help and I suspect some of the auto-rickshaw drivers think I'm simple. Although now and again some of the touts guess that I'm French (at least until I open my mouth) which frankly does seem like a compliment.
Is also at times weirdly British in that most every social interaction is punctuated by tea/chai, there is always the option for toast-butter-jam, Cadbury's Dairy Milk and Lay's potato crisps are everywhere. The Indians also often have that studied and skilled politeness that can be paradoxically be applied for great passive aggressive effect and bureaucratic intransigence. At time service industry staff frequently insist on calling us both "sir". While on the one hand I think Jen is somewhat pleasantly surprised when her presence is actually acknowledged, understandably she is miffed that they still insist on addressing her in a male form of acknowledgment.
Armed with a decent (i.e non-US) cellphone for the cost of $10 you can get a pre-paid SIM card enabling you have a local cell-phone. The benefits can be enticing. Guest houses can be called ahead and in some cause rooms successfully booked ahead (although the technology revolution has not yet solve the problem of ensuring that unwilling guest house staff answer the phone). Also you can be - at least in theory - fully contactable (although fortunately the technology still offers the solution of an on-off button :-) . At times the new technology works alarmingly well - when Jen call to me in Oakland from the Laos a few months ago I would swear the connection was better than from a local cell call.
While it is at first confusing watching CNN reporting non-American news that doesn't involve a natural disaster, it is revealing to see what news many Indians are getting as US news. Besides their own fascination with the American penchant for multiple murders, they are fascinated with the Obama & Hilary contest. Although Obama gets points as an honorary "desi" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desi from his Indonesian childhood most of the surprisingly many Indians wishing to talk about American politics with us favor Hilary - perhaps its an Indira Gandi thing?
Anyway, the overall result of the weirdly oscillating contrast between the familiar and the foreign that can make the everyday tourist experience shift from the mundane to the seemingly profound on the turn of a phrase or by a fleeting glimpse. Within the inter-dimensional parallel worlds of my global travelling in India it seems that there's only a fine line between what seem so real and the truly surreal - then again maybe it's the malaria medication...
Labels: india
