Almost the good life

BY TIM BLIGHT

When a friend came to visit me in India recently, I was shocked to realize just how much I have gotten used to life here. I’ve now been here for six months, and I’m starting to feel more and more like a local. I know that this will never be completely true, but I find that I am now increasingly taking for granted things which were once a novelty. My intrepid friend fresh out of Australia, brought to my attention some of these. Take nimbu pani, for example. The saltysweet beverage was a treat when I first landed here in the middle of last summer. However now, as India’s southern states begin to heat up for the year, I find myself unexcited about the prospect of downing more of the yellowish liquid. In contrast, when my friend arrived last month, he was full of excitement about the exotic new drink, and was bemused by my “Oh, yeah…” reaction.

As we head towards the Indian summer, the regular flood of deodorant commercials is upon us, with another group of advertisers exploring just how far they can push the censor board. The overt sexuality in many deodorant advertisements was surprising when I first arrived here – now it’s just normal to watch Neil Nitin Mukesh being asked if he “can handle two?” by a pair of buxom swimsuit women. India seems to be deodorant-obsessed, although that’s understandable given the climate. Thanks to advertising, my pronunciation of certain brand names has changed as well. I wonder how I ever used to refer to instant noodles as “Mad-jie”; conforming with the Indian standard, these days it’s always “Maggi”, as in Rod Stewart’s ‘Maggie May’. On the topic of music, I barely cringe any more when sitting in a bar, Bryan Adams graces the airwaves and the entire patronage of grown men nod approvingly. My visiting friend also drew my attention to other things which used to crack me up, like when movies are advertised as “running successfully nationwide”. What if a film was not running successfully – would this describe a situation in which viewers couldn’t make it all the way through? I can picture the headlines now: “Rockstar unsuccessful – yet another audience dies of boredom!”

Some things I can’t get used to. The length of time taken at transactions in supermarkets, shopping centres and restaurants still drives me insane. I still feel like hurling abuse when the person behind the counter grabs the cash/card from the person they’re serving, then has a conversation with a fellow worker, looks at the card for a bit, goes back to the conversation, tries to work out how to operate their register, chats a bit more, walks away to see what’s happening at checkout 7, comes back, chats a bit more and then finally turns to the customer and asks if they have change. And seriously –why doesn’t anyone ever have change?!? I wonder if it’s a legacy of the bargaining culture which hasn’t really died out. Admittedly, this seems to be worse in Chennai than in the northern states - my customer service experiences in Delhi, Rajasthan, UP and Punjab have been largely efficient. In terms of food, I don’t know that I’ll ever develop a taste for gourd. Bitter gourd wasn’t too bad until I swallowed it, while my throat almost refused to admit entrance to ivy gourd (‘kovakka’ in Tamil, ‘tindora’ in Hindi). Snake gourd freaks me out simply because of its proportions.

Of course, I’m sure that many of my Indian friends write this off as a symptom of me being a westerner. Thankfully I’ve escaped the tag of ‘IBM’ – International Big Mouth – the type of foreigner (often American) who travels to another country, talks too much and too loudly, and complains about everything. At least this is a sign that I’m fitting in better than some! India’s class society concept is still something I’m coming to grips with, although I dispute the notion that it is completely absent in Australia. I should stress here that I’m referring to economic class, not caste, although I’m aware that the two are very intertwined. As a result it’s not something that I’m completely alarmed by, and it’s definitely something which I would like to explore at length in another article. Until then I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride. I’ll happily stack on the kilos by snacking on dried moong dal and bhel puri between meals – how did I not know about these before? I’ll keep enjoying the little sachets of seasoning that come with pizzas in India - I don’t know how I’ll survive without them when I leave.

I’ll keep enjoying the sea breeze that wafts through the window, penetrating the late afternoon warmth, as I savour some chai and Kabul pomegranate or Alphonso mango. And I’ll enjoy the sunset as I recline on the khatiya (rope bed) on the rooftop terrace and sip Limca, rounding out another perfect day in my new home.

Oh Gourd!