Advertisement
Published: July 10th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Looking good
For some reason I found the crutches quite complicated to deal with. So we are still in India one month on. It's been an interesting month. For those of you who haven't been bored with the story by email, I was in an accident (sounds very dramatic) not long after I published the last blog. I can make the accident sound glamorous or boring - I'll opt for the latter but feel free to throw in some adjectives of your own. Anyway, I was basically stepping out the back of a car, the driver inexplicably (or perhaps explicably (is that even a word?) given he's an 18 year old local) took off and I fell onto the road, injuring my knee. I could be graphic about the injury but you might be squeamish so I won't. Suffice to say, I needed staples and a second opinion (the first being that surgery was necessary). I actually felt sorry for the driver - he was more shaky than I was.
My experience of India's medical system could be a blog unto itself and I doubt anyone would be that interested. For those of you who do have a dedicated interest in medical systems of the world, my main observation has to be lack of
Sunita
The friendly cleaner. It took a few attempts to get her to smile - Indians seem to prefer looking serious in photos. privacy. For example, the physiotherapist I visited was treating on average 5 of us at one time which was actually quite entertaining.
Anyway, I can now walk again which is always helpful. I spent 2 weeks cooped up in one room with the cleaner for company during the day. She prattled away to me in Hindi and I answered in English. I have no idea what we were talking about but it was apparently very amusing. I think she quite enjoyed herself. She made me lots of tea and occasionally pointed to my knee with a concerned look which was very sweet. Ross continued to teach in the slums, as did our flatmates. By this time we were living with 4 American students, 3 of whom study medicine at Harvard (how fancy). Individually they are all lovely, but collectively they make me feel old. Or maybe that was more to do with the fact I was hobbling around, clinging onto walls for support. Who knows.
So last week was my first attempt to get back into the land of the living and a group of us went to the Taj Mahal. Everything that could have gone wrong did
The Young Ones
Our flatmates. From left to right: Nick, Lolly, Madelaine & Devin. (my personal favourite was the fact the monsoon rain came on with a vengeance while we were queuing and only one of us had brought an umbrella) but seeing the Taj itself made up for it. It was unbelievable. I almost mean that literally, as it sort of looks as though it has been super-imposed onto the horizon. It is a breathtaking monument and the photos don't do it justice. I did the obligatory Princess Diana pose which I thought was funny, even if no-one else seemed to get it. I was a bit disappointed with the inside though - given it's a mausoleum it's not that well cared for and kids were trying to outdo one another by testing the echoes. When I complained about that later, one of the Harvard lot admitted he'd also been shouting loudly to hear his echo. See what I mean about feeling old? Although to be fair, I know several people of my age and older who would probably do the exact same thing (and yes, all male).
I also returned to teaching last week which was great, although I was annoyed I'd missed so much. We took the kids to the
Taj Mahal
As soon as the sun comes out, the marble seems to sparkle. zoo on Thursday as a farewell treat. Unfortunately it was one of the hottest days so far and even the kids found it hard-going (I practically melted onto the grass at one point). Some of them had never been to the zoo before so it was really nice seeing their faces when they saw the animals. Friday was our last day so we organised a party and prize giving which caused much excitement. Our attempt to teach them all Strip the Willow was hysterical and pretty much disastrous. Whigfield's Saturday Night was easier - Ross particularly enjoyed demonstrating.
The prize giving was good too - we controversially picked a girl as the overall winner for excelling at English (deservedly I might add) with 5 runners up who were all boys. It's controversial because girls' education is of little importance in the slums. This one particular girl is the only one who equalled the boys - the other girls are much poorer, simply because the teachers apparently don't bother with them. It's very frustrating.
On my last day I also went round the "baasti" or area ie the slum itself. It was, as everything in this country is, eye
Excitement at the Zoo
This was before the heat started getting to us all... opening. People were so welcoming. I was invited into everyone's home and offered tea and biscuits at every turn. One woman even gave me a garland of flowers. The average size of home is probably 8 feet square with one bed for whole families. I don't know how they manage to turn their kids out looking so clean and well cared for, but they do.
Anyway, leaving the centre was really sad - the women were all sobbing (which set me off, I can't cope with other people crying). One woman, whom I had never met nor set eyes on before, turned up in tears and gave me a shawl she'd made that afternoon. Turns out she's the mother of one of the kids - the emotion was all a bit overwhelming.
Ross has now flown to the Himalayas to live in a mud hut and observe monks chanting for a week. The scenery looks amazing, but considering I can barely walk downstairs, Himalayan mountains seemed a bit of a stretch. Instead I caught up on the sightseeing I missed in Delhi and travelled to Rajasthan by train yesterday (22 hours with cockroaches crawing round my head -
More Excitement at the Zoo...
...this was after the heat was getting to us. The boys coped with it by getting wilder. that was fun). Actually, it could have been a lot worse - I originally ended up in the wrong carriage with no air conditioning, full of Hijras. Hijras are the "third gender" - a mix of transvestites, transexuals and many other "tran" words I can't think of. Some of them apparently make their money by threatening to strip in public; Indians are so conservative they'll pay to save any embarrassment. They seemingly leave foreigners alone though, as we tend to be less shockable. They were certainly nice enough to me - invited me into their carriage, gave me a seat and started chatting. I'm sure the journey would have been entertaining but 22 hours is probably a bit long for making small talk. Anyway, I eventually made it to Jaisalmer in western Rajasthan. It's a beautiful place but in true style I'm completely exhausted due to a cold and haven't been able to do much sightseeing. Only I could have a cold in 40 degree heat. I leave tomorrow evening so hopefully will be more able to wander about during the day tomorrow.
I saw a few Delhi sights before I left on Monday, including Jama Masjid, the largest
Less Excitement at the Zoo...
... the girls coped with it by getting calmer. mosque in India, and Gandhi's grave. The monuments are all beautifully carved. However, the thing that is most striking is that many of the Indian tourists are more interested in me than in the monuments. We noticed this at the Taj Mahal too: they are obsessed with getting a family picture with the whitest possible person in the centre. Surprise surprise - that's me. I'm not exaggerating when I say that more people were crowding round me outside the mosque than were actually looking at the mosque itself. First of all dad gets in there, taking a picture of me & his wife. Then the kids are trooped in and I'm asked to put my arms round them. Then mum takes the camera while dad rushes over. Occasionally granny's wheeled over to join in. At one point I had around 100 - 150 people waving cameras and shouting "photo with my children" at me. It's really weird. I felt like Angelina Jolie or someone.
So, Ross and I will meet up in Delhi on Sunday and travel to Mumbai (Bombay for the colonialists) on Tuesday.
Food of the month: there have been a lot of rice and spices,
In the baasti
The women are desperate for photos of their babies. I've promised to send copies once I'm home. but I think my most stupid moment was accepting water in one of the slum houses as I felt I couldn't refuse;
Quote of the month: (1) One of the Americans on my accident: "I think the driver felt bad because, you know, he's a young guy who's injured an older, foreign lady". Makes me sound like I'm on a Saga holiday; and (2) one of the kids: "we don't know English, we know Scottish". Aye, exactly.
Bye.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.075s; Tpl: 0.014s; cc: 6; qc: 46; dbt: 0.046s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Frankie
non-member comment
That last picture was never going to work. We all know your marriage to the Prince of Wales is as happy as could be. It all looks pretty eye-opening. Maybe this is your route to becoming an earth mother. I finally found that quote I was going on about: "They were four clean cut young kids who were having lots of fun and they were driving Yossarian nuts. He could not make them understand that he was a crochety old fogey of 28. that he belonged to another generation, another era, another world, that having a good time bored him and was not worth the effort and that they bored him too. He could not make them shut up; they were worse than women. They had not brains enough to be introverted and repressed." I hope you haven't given the address of this blog to your ex-flatmates. Also, your SAGA catalogue has arrived, btw. I'll just keep it here with your copies of The Oldie (and the Journal.)