I love India. As soon as you step on into the sanctuary of the Intl airport in Delhi you realise just how same same the rest of the world is and how special India is. However, after volunteering for 3 months in the Delhi summer (inc 48 degree 'winds') on a backpackers budget (in a city where the expats happily knock back $25US cocktails) I fancied a break.
So here I am in Kathmandu. If this had been my first destination I might have thought it noisy but after Delhi it's like I've clicked on the mute button. The kids smile without holding out their hand, the tourist shopkeepers who nod without recommending an item you likely already own, and the rickshaw drivers drive on after a simple "no". This is also a sanctuary but it's the home of the Himalayas so bliss is all natural.
My last few weeks in India was lurvley. I headed down KSV, the project I previously worked with in Karnataka. Going back to a field project after a 4 month break I saw the children and locals welcome me with a 'aha you're in this for the long run' smile. It felt great.
Delhi only gets a light touch of the monsoon whereas Karnataka gets a fair soaking. Hats off to the volunteers, the children almost seem immune to the rain and you would have thought most volunteers from western Europe would be too (it even made me miss Ireland a bit until I laid out on my wet mattress) but living in the jungle in the monsoon without electricity, there is no place to dry out.
Redundant flipflops
My sponsor child Sujata. An absolute princess whilst I was there but a little grumpy when I left
In my previous 3 months role at KSV I'd had my fair share of creepies in my few days this time I was a banquet for the local mosquitos and bed bugs, I could almost read a brail pattern on my forehead saying 'welcome back sucker'.
The trip also made me realise that England holds some of the blame for modern India. I chose to fly down as it was 40 hours on the train one way and I still had 25 hours of train travel in Karnataka (and yes the railway was one good thing the Brits left behind). I spotted something very interesting. 90% of the Brits on business in Bangalore were wearing short sleeved shirts and had pens in their top pockets. Where the feck do these guys come from? Is there a module in engineering degrees that models the efficiency of pocket pen to hand whilst vs. desk pen (and that's without mentioning the short sleeved shirt). As a result the average business man in India looks like Mr Slick here from my office in Delhi.
Everyday I arrived at the office I wanted to 'do the creep' with Mr Slick. To be fair one day I nearly turned up at work wearing flipflops and socks, a proper camel toe so we is even.
I finished my Delhi project on a high with sign off for the India Fundraising strategy from the regional head. It had, however, been frustrating. After 3 months I still hadn't got an email address and yet I was courting with Bollywood directors and CEOs. Hilarious.
Me on my last day with a leaving gift for the office. In my three months there I'd seen no fruit on the office apart from my desk so I introduced them to some local produce ;)
I also did some last minute tourist stuff. My friend Mike and I went to this amazing light and sound show and were the only people there. Delhi Tourism needs a slap, this show was amazing.
A quick vid of the show...
Having stayed in one hotel for 3 months I had a bit of Alan Partridge syndrome going on. I terminated our relationship promptly by having a mini fire in my room on my last night with the help of a 50cent plug adapter I'd bought at the market that day. Nowt quite like going out with smoke.
I ended my stay in Delhi with yoga on the terrace as I'd done most mornings. It was amazing to be in such an intense city and yet at 530am to have a only mat and circling eagles as quiet companions. The last few days were a bit different as there was a party of 50 tourists from Chennai in my hotel who's cooks slept on the terrace. That meant I had an audience and a free breakfast with the lads so no complaints!
The lads cooking breakfast on the terrace.
Idli in a pot ....OMG :)
The day I left Delhi was surreal. I got an early morning phone call from my travel insurance co. who after months of dispute over my cover for my injury offered to fly me home business class which I kindly declined. Don't annoy me during my trip then try and end it early with the promise of a flying massage chair to a place I don't want to go right now!
The rest of the day was amazing. My rickshaw on the way to the airport was on the meter (!). When I arrived at the airport the security guard's hardest question when scrutinising my passport was "what is your name". On waiting for the plane I was told by the check in staff to get on before the announcement was made, I had an emergency seat exit without having requested one and was sat in between a Dr from WHO (have fun with that now) and a cool gal from Madrid. The only negative was flying over Northern India reflecting on the destruction of the recent monsoon. If you remember Roopak the polio kid I hung out with in Rishikesh, I still speak to him regularly, his home was flooded, he's fine and was one of the lucky ones.
So here I am in Nepal, breathing in the tranquility, arranging visas and flights for my next few months.
For the past few months drinking nights have been rare but always in the company of Irish and in Kathmandu I met a gang who invited me to Foleys, the Irish Bar. It was a hole but it was great to be out with a gang from da west listening to The Pogues whilst they slipped in cheap booze from the naggins of whiskey in their bags. Only the Irish. Crackin night.
So let's make this easy. Click on the below bride finder.
Splendid. Looks pretty simple to me. Or is it?
Arranged vs. Love marriage is a big topic in India. Before I came here my mind had mostly been shaped by the classic UK Movie East is East (despite being about Pakistanis), when the two lads are introduced to their future brides at the family ceremony. The prospect of the brides is so dire that another family member says "Have you seen the state of them two. One of 'em's got a moustache like Dad".
Having been in India for nearly a year, I now see things slightly differently. Here are a few quotes from my reading on the subject:
"Don't sleep with strangers that is what arranged marriage is for."
"In love marriage you marry your own girlfriend & in arranged you marry someone else's girlfriend"
"Romantic love seeks to extend the present while the arranged marriage aims at securing the future."
The subject is so popular in India that there is even a famous soap opera. I haven't ever since it as anytime I watch Indian TV I get nausea from an overdose of chest hair and medallions.
For those of you who've only seen a western description of an arranged marriage I need to update you. It is still a very different setup to what we are used to. And there are still sad stories of suicide where a person is in love with someone committed to another. These are, however, rare and although underage 'forced' arranged marriages do still happen in a small number of communities in India, they are, luckily becoming the minority thanks to Education campaigns such as the below.
The majority of arranged marriages today are more flexible encouraging a choice of future spouse for both the man and woman. There are plenty of matrimonial websites where you can choose. The only difference between match.com and shaddi.com is that in the later you know that marriage is the goal. On match.com it could be a friendship/shag/friend with benefits/relationship/therapy/marriage. In the west, even the mention of the word marriage early in the dating game (although it's good to mention if you are already married ;) ) is a sure way of scaring people off.
Ad like these are normal here:
I think this girl should just be called Little Miss Adjective.......supercalifragilisticexpiali
I love the contrast between the detail on the left then the one on the right. Basically if you live in Delhi/NCR and the astrology matches - happy days!
She's meritorious. Seriously she deserves YOU!
A few medics in the family ......just missing a plastic surgeon/dermatologist (......a tall one)
I should mention that an Indian friend recently told me that the internet matrimonial sites were less of a global dating service and more of a horse trading fair. I'm not registered yet so cannot comment ;) Here's a view on it if it goes well......
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iri3lM8fQaQ
If that's the outcome, I REALLY need to meet his mum.
Many of my friends and colleagues in India are in arranged marriages and are delighted with life. There are also sad stories of bad matches, but that's the case in love marriages after the initial 'Barry White time' runs out too right? It might seem hard to imagine if you're from another culture but you have to take into account the way people are brought up here. The culture is so conservative that even flirting is considered taboo in many communities. Kissing in public is illegal. I should be in prison for life ;) The idea of going out on the dating scene for many is so foreign that the support of the family to find a future partner makes complete sense. My mum once hooked me up with a friend's daughter. She was an NGO worker, funny, intelligent, and fine & devine on the eye. Fair play to my mum, I'm not sure what planet I was on but I didn't go on a second date due to the bright lights of 'other possibilities.' And, for me that is the issue with arranged marriage. When people have experienced cultures where love marriage is the norm. Where they've seen how it doesn't have to be arranged, and in today's global society it's impossible to hide from. A taste of the west opens up Pandora's box to H/Bollywood romance stories with simple get out clauses such as affairs and easy divorce. The movie industry pumps us full of lust, romance and baby oil (...coconut is better ;) and yet the real love stories should be about 'staying together' such as Song for Marion and Amour. I'm allowed to get a little sentimental there as it was my dad's anniversary last week and that always reminds me what an amazing love marriage they had. Right til the end.
From the weddings I went to last year, a favourite in Ireland (...they were all great!) involved the congregation singing "All you need is love". The wedding focused on the couple's love, not the bling effect of the wedding car/size of the cake/castle like venue. The average cost of a middle class wedding in india is +$30k US (see here). Thought that might surprise you. Quite the 'loveconomy'. And yet the reality is you don't need a marriage for that. But let's keep society happy ;) Whether it's love arranged or arranged love (built 'like lego' according to NAVE!) , if there is flexibility to chose your partner, the reality is same same.
My time in Delhi has completely changed in the last week. After spending each night at the physio for the last two months I'm now out every night. Much as my physios are a cool gang, hanging out in Delhi city in the week at night is a lot more fun. The pre-monsoon rains have also arrived bringing with them a refreshing dip in the temperature and sites such as shower caps to cover turbans and aquaplaning Rickshaws.
Last night I went to Bhajan at a temple about 5 miles from where I live. My friend Deepak took my on his moped but had to leave early to get back to work.
A Bhajan is a Hindu ceremony involving devotional singing and although I'm not Hindu I like a good Bhajan! So after the Bhajan, usual friendly stares and Q&A sessions with a number of the congregation as to what the only white boy in the room was doing there, whether I was married, and my occupation, I left. Despite the madness outside the temple (Bhajans are big business!) I couldn't find a rickshaw (being a westerner a more common problem is getting rid of all the rickshaw drivers blocking my route and asking for business), so opted to walk.
For those of you who have been to India, be it rural or urban you'll know a walk at night can be fun. I was walking along a very busy Delhi road (somewhere in between rural and urban!) with no lights, and with pavement made up of potholes, uncovered manholes, random big chunks of concrete and the occasional stray dog with rabies eyes. Despite the constant horns most vehicles are usually pretty good at avoiding pedestrians; apart from trucks and buses who like to play target practice. This wasn't a walk in the park, it was a walk on a building site.
It was the first time in a while I'd been stuck without a richshaw. During one of my routine looks over my shoulder to see how big/close the next truck was Raghav came to the rescue. He was pottering along on his bike and pulled over and with the help of some Hinglish and sign language communicated that he wanted to carry me on his bike. Now I'm used to being on the back of mopeds and the occasional Royal Enfield motorbike but I'm 13 stone. I'm not built to go on the back of a push bike. Raghav had other ideas, after two false starts during which we both fell off and the bike was within inches (and I mean this) of the wheel of a truck we got on and finally made it work.
It was a pretty interesting ride. Possibly the hardest balancing act I've ever done to balance out Raghav's enthusiastic effort (not sure if he realised that swaying from side to side didn't help). I found myself leaning towards invisible potholes and leaning away from trucks with the signal being the heat coming off the metal bodywork against my skin. I've done some pretty crazy things and this was madness but 20 minute later somehow we managed to get to Karol Bagh without falling off again.
The photo above was back where street lights existed and show one very interesting thing that i didn't realise during the ride. Raghav had two flat tyres. Like I said, Legend.
Last week was a very rare 'pretty shitty week' and tested whether meditation does provide a sense of calm.....
In this post:
I teach a baby a very bad word
Indian men and shoes (throwing and breaking them)
When Delhi becomes bad for your health- to AC or not to AC
A below par Birthday
I get censored
....the silver lining
Note: WARNING This blog post includes a high degree of 'old grumpy man' syndrome.
About 10 days ago I decided to get my shoes re-heeled. There are cobblers lining the streets everywhere you go in India. Ingenious workers who can rescue any pair of shoes with fishing line, a few nails and a hammer. It seemed like the logical place, and according to my colleagues the only place to get my shoes upgraded.
So one warm (late 40's ;) ) lunchtime, I walked down to the local cobbler, just outside Mr President's house on Pandit Pant Marg. I watched in awe as he sat in cobblers pose (yogis call it Baddah Konasana) and quietly prepared my shoes for their upgrade. Watch how calm and peaceful this nice man is in the video.....
After my camera battery ran out the cobbler changed his seating position and started getting angry with his hammer (seems that his Baddah Konasana was keeping him calm!).
The end result was this:
Now, I have a fondness for decent shoes. Lucky for me, that wasn't a pair of Barkers or I'm sure I would have reacted differently. I went back to the office amused but my colleagues were mortified that a westerner be treated so badly by a local craftsman. They marched back down to confront the man to at least return my 50rs ($1!). As as result he took the shoes and started to rip the whole heel off, totally wrecking the shoes. We walked away leaving the angry little cobbler man spitting out his poetic words (I saw him two days later peaceful again in Baddah Konasana ;) ).
I got back to my desk to find an email from my travel insurance company saying that they were pulling my cover as the hospital where I was being treated had said I was fine. Up until two weeks ago I wasn't able to walk properly without a brace, and I had been seeing my physio 6 times a week. My insurance company were telling a porkie. Deep breath.
So after having my shoes mangled and the possibility of no travel insurance, I get back to my hotel wanting some quick respite from nearly 50 degrees outside. I had to wait 10 minutes to get to my room as a coach party of locals had just arrived and didn't understand that you could get to the first floor via the stairs so were filling the whole reception waiting for the lift. When I finally got to my room I discovered that my new neighbours had moved half of the furniture out from their room to the corridor and were socialising there. The type of Indians who stay in budget hotels aren't quiet. Ask them to whisper and they just can't do it, ask them to please stop shouting and they shout back "I'm not shouting sir".
I ended up just heading out thinking nothing of it. 48 hours later, after getting only a few hours sleep I was an ickle bit frustrated. My neighbours, a family of 20 ended up having some of their members sleeping in the hotel corridor with screaming babies outside my room all night. I complained to the lads on reception who wiggled their heads then tried to reason with the family who simply pushed staff away and nothing was done. A couple of other westerners staying in the hotel complained but they left the next day. I could have changed hotel but based on my charity covering the costs here anywhere else would cripple my budget. I sms'd work and they said it was fine as the hotel had it under control but they didn't so I took the next step. The below site is what you get if you google tourist police and it looked pretty legit to me.
I did, however, miss seeing the words 'tour packages' in the middle of the screen. I got through to Sanjay who could help me with a luxury tour to Agra but not with a family camping outside my room.
The noise got so bad that I couldn't even hear a film when using headphones. The concept of just going out for a walk to escape seems easy but in the summer in Delhi if you have AC in your room and it's the middle of the afternoon, you stay put! After 3 days, the noise was getting worse and I confronted the family only to have a pot bellied, hairy eared chap wearing a string vest and doti (like a sarong) shout back at me then throw his shoe at me. Legend. I have to admit at that point after 36 hours, the confrontation did involve me to lose my calm (no shouting just some interesting language). As a result, I'm guessing that their baby's first word might be English and it might just be "c@@t".
So I called the proper police. I never ever ever ever want to have a real problem in India. It took an age just to find someone who could speak English (even asking "do you speak english" in Hindi meant I got hung up on twice). In the end I got through to someone who did, indeed, speak perfect English. He wouldn't listen though, and when I said I was just after advice and didn't want him to come out to the hotel he said he was coming anyway. 6 policeman turned up. Six! The hotel staff completely bricked themselves. Reception staff ran around frantically covered in sweat, making chai and bringing snacks for the inspector. To be fair, I was very impressed with the police, unlike most of the lads you see on the street scratching their balls or picking nose these guys did a good job. Within 5 minutes all the furniture was back in the room and the families were silently packing their bags.
The next day after another email from my travel insurance company saying they could not reach me on any of my numbers (when I'd been getting calls from others all day) I called up the CEO who I know personally. Within 1 hour I had an apology from the company and a statement that my cover was fine. Work also proposed buying me new shoes (which I declined). Insurance fixed, shoes.....well the thought was there.
Then came my birthday. I was feeling a bit crappy after 3 nights with no sleep but the day started amazingly.
Yoga up on the roof at 34 degrees and a cool morning breeze with the eagles flying around. I then nearly had a heart attack when a rickshaw driver insist that I pay based on the meter. My cheapest commute in weeks. Happy days.
The charity I work for wanted me to extend my visa to work on the project a bit longer so on my birthday I had to go to the Foreigner's Regional Registration Office (FRRO). Work had done my paperwork but I questioned some of it with the admin guy and he just wiggled his head and said "no sir it is all there and present and such".
One of my least favourite signs in Delhi:
Visits to the FRRO in Delhi are legend among westerners and mine was quite special. When I arrived the front desk there was no-one there. An unmanned desk and immigrants of all shapes an sizes from Afghan farmers to NYC blinged up tourists; all in the same sweatbox of confusion.
Thirty minutes later a man arrived at a desk and there was a scramble to see him. His only role was to give you a token to get passed security and into the administration room. Seemed simple enough, he gave you a number you went to the admin room and got seen by your person. I've been to Argos where they have multiple desks for different number categories - how complex can this be?
In the admin room there were c.200 confused people all looking at the number digital display as if they were in the bookies watching a race. I soon worked out that I would be there for a while so I should go and get some food. My decision was made easier when the admin staff shut up shop for their lunch. Imagine a room with 200 people in a queue, all of a sudden the lights and fans go off and the staff walk out. Quality service, Indian style. Even the security guard who had done such a good job of keeping the masses out of the admin room had gone on lunch. After a decent bit of street food and re hydration I returned. I was in it for the long haul so came back with supplies. The security guard was back on his post and the place was buzzing. I showed the guard my pass and he looked at my water bottle in disgust. No bottles allowed. 5 minutes ago the post had been unmanned and most of the 200 people from the room had gone back in with water. Rules are rules no matter how fkn retarded so I left my bottle outside.
One hour later I was at second in line in the queue and took a moment to kill time by eavesdropping. An affluent looking american was in front of me standing out in the crowd of farmers and backpackers. She had overstayed her visa. Now, I remember when I first arrived in India, and when immigration had asked me how long I was going to stay I'd replied up until the end of my visa they said "we hope you go home sooner than that". Overstaying a visa here is bad news. The walls of the FRRO might be covered in 'Incredible India' posters but a reply such as "well in america all visas are 6 months not 3 months so I didn't realise I had overstayed" doesn't cut it as the lady soon discovered. A number of staff gathered around to do some syncronised head wiggling then the boss asked for information showing that the lady had been travelling as a tourist. She smiled, pulled up her Prada sunglasses and said "don't worry honey I've lots of photos of me and my husband at the Taj". They took her off to a room, I never saw her again but am guessing she's now back in the US with a lighter wallet.
So there I was at the front of the queue. I'd done everything I was supposed to do to. Hang on, though the admin guy in my office had given me what I thought was the wrong paperwork but insisted it was OK. So after 3 hours of waiting in the sweatbox I heard the words I knew were coming my way. "This is not the correct paperwork". I then decided to wiggle my head. He was right and he gave me details of the paperwork I needed.
I returned to the office saturated from head to toe in sweat. AC was blasting out of the vents and whether or not it was lack of sleep or an overdose of Indian bureaucracy I started to feel rough. Nothing as serious as man flu, just not the sort of feeling you want on your birthday.
I had a chat with the admin guy in my office about the situation and he smiled and said that I would have to put it in writing to his boss as he could not deal with me directly.
Work then bought me a cake. The below was a fake smile. A birthday cake is a lovely gesture but I would have preferred not to have been out of the office for 5 hours for no reason. I was not impressed.
My mates were amazing for my birthday. My social network in Delhi has been limited due to me spending most nights getting my akle fixed so lots of calls, emails and messages from back home were appreciated. I MISS MY MATES!
My greatest gift was my akle feeling better. After 40 days of intense physio I hadn't felt pain in over a week. I'll be taking my physio team out for dinner next week. They are legends (and the main man Kaneer wasn't there for the photoshoot but I'll be sure to get him in the meal photo :) ):
The next day I made a plans to leave Delhi. I'll go into details in a later post as to why. I was going to go to Burma to do vipassana (10 days silent meditation) but Burma is tricky to travel in during the monsoon so I went on skyscanner and decided to chose the cheapest option out of India. Now, if I'd have done this when I lived in Dublin I would have probably ended up in Luton but lucky for me I got this:
Result :) So I'm going to Kathmandu and have applied for Vipassana there. I know it's off season, but I'm in Asia right now so choices are limited. My akle should be fine for some small hikes so landslide permitting I'll be spending some time in the mountains.
I recently saw that the blog is close enough to 10,000 views so I thought I'd see if there is any way I could make some income from it. I applied for Adsense from Google and a day later got a reply with a failed application. Apparently there is adult content on my page. Game on :)
So does meditation help in stressful situations? The fact that I didn't react to the people outside my room until a couple of days is a very different reflection of how I might have reacted say a year ago. I guess meditation is a very special form of meditation and I wasn't getting any so got grumpy.
I'm back in my bliss bubble now (with lots of meditation ;) ), and had a crackin b'day weekend then bought myself a b'day pressie of a flight down to Karnataka to hang out at KSV for a few days to see the other volunteers, staff and children. So this will be me this weekend :)
For me the undisputed champion of India is food. From my first ever take away sat infront of the telly, my first restaurant date with a boird as a nervous teen, til breakfast today it's all been Indian. In this post:
Indian Food in all it's colour and glory
An excellent example of why west is not best
Where does the food go? The bum gun
How to avoid time on the toilet
Food vs Viagra
Curry without Beer?
I had my first ever take away in the late 80's. My guess is that it was served up on trays in the lounge to have whilst watching some quality entertainment on TV (probably one 321, Big Break, Gladiators or Blind Date). Oddly you'd have thought that so much stimulation as the shows mentioned would have been enough but the delights of Indian cuisine served in front of the telly as a young growing lad was truly special.
The source of my first ever Indian Take Away. The Golden Triangle (Prev RajPut of India) on Fleet High Street:
Since then, typical of the classy English culture I'd find myself 'going for an Indian' most Friday's with my friends. All the lads trying to outdo each other with the number of chilli's associated with the menu item. Indian restaurants became my default dating ground as I knew most menu's off by heart so could look suave to the lady in question by ordering without even looking at the menu (I was a big fan of Baltis, a dish not even invented in India but in Birmingham!)
Here's a classic way that Indians in the UK viewed us Brits:
So, Indian food in India. I knew it would be better than back home but not this much better. So here's a little story of how it began for me.
My first Indian meal in India was on a train. I didn't have the option to smile and ask in Hinglish for something 'less spicy' as I had no hindi and the seller was in a rush. This was the real deal and WOW what a deal it was. Despite getting slightly sweaty as the chillis broke into my western nervous system, this touched taste senses I didn't even know I had. 8 months into my stay here I still think some of the best food in India is on Indian Rail. l love the way they will barge down the carriage shouting a sales pitch early in the morning and then take your order and come back at lunchtime with your personal creation for less than $1US.
This veg biriyani was bloody lovely!
I soon learnt that you have to work out how to eat with your hands pretty quick. I spent a few days nearly burning my hands and failing miserably in how much food I could transport to my mouth eat time. A key lesson was that you eat with your right hand and I was pleased to see all the locals doing exactly the same, I just wish that they would not pat down the rice with their left hand. That left hand is for other things.
Here's an example of the food I ate during my first 3 months.
200 of us all had the same food everyday. It might have been simple but it was amazing :)
So how does Indian Food work? Well before I talk about the food let's talk about the drinks. Indian has some amazing drinks. My highlight is lassi but to me that's more of a beach drink and I'm a LONG way from the beach right now. For an everyday drink there is masala chai. Something that you can get on any street corner for less than 10p and here is me with my local chai seller Mr Singh enjoying a cup of tea, spices and sugar. Bear in mind you will need good dental insurance if you are a daily drinker of this but it will make you want to try and make tea with spices for the rest of your life.
Tropical juices, smoothies and lassies are available all over India, more common obviously by the coast. Worth making sure you ask for juices without sugar as similar to the chai they like to offer 'sugar with juice'. As I'm a fan of green smoothies I bought a smoothie maker for my room in Delhi. With so much great fresh veggies available the smoothies are amazing and I regularly offer them to the staff where I live. To give you an idea of how this works, I offered a cup for two cleaning staff to share last week and one used the cup whilst pouring the rest out into his colleagues hands, spilling all over the floor they had just cleaned. No-one looked surprised. India, you are special bless ya!
And now to Indian food itself. To start a meal you generally have a plate of onions, chilli and lime as an appetizer. Although eating raw onion may seem a bit of an anti-social appetizer it's a natural antibiotic that will cleanse your body before eating.
Then the choice is endless. Generally you'd get a default meal such as the veg biryani and jeera rice above (a curry with a rice/bread). Here are some other highlights:
Below is bhatoora bread. A heart attack on a plate and bloody lovely. Supposedly from North India but my favorite location for this is still HoySala Restaurant in Dharwad, Karnataka. This is what it looks like.....
Dosa. This is a great breakfast food. The below is a Dose Masala and holds a surprise within (potatoes, onions and spices....beats a Kinda Egg). The most 'similar' dish in the west would be a pancake, so if you are missing home this is a good option to have plain with curd (yoghurt) and fruits
Idli is another common breakfast. Steamed lentils and rice served with masala and coconut chutney . This is most common in the South.
A North Indian breakfast. Paratha bread, Aloo Sabji (Potato curry) and coconut chutney:
My normal breakfast. I have a fondness of keeping my arteries clean, so whilst having Indian breakfasts at the weekend I make my own in my hotel room most mornings. The below is an Alphonso (it was a good day!) Mango, and fresh curd with oats, honey and raw cacao. Yum :)
Lunch for me is real treat. Where I work is next door to all the main political party HQs and they all have canteens where you can get a full meal for $1US. The staff in my office pool together and bring in their own food then we mix it up on one table. This is just one of the tables (on a quiet day). Seriously good food :)
My first 3 months in India were nearly 100% dry (apart from a large exception being Goa for Christmas.....hic). That was my introduction to the concept of eating out without booze. I'd come across the notion of curry without a beer once before at a Hindi wedding in the UK. In Karnataka, I had to get used to it.
The meal is usually finished with dessert (a favourite of mine is Kheer which is Rice Pudding.......no photos as I eat it before I get chance to snap it). Then either Paan (Betel leaf sometimes with cured tobacco which is chewed) or Mukhwas (as shown below a mix of fennel/anise/sesame seeds as a digestive aid).
As for the bill. Eating out in India is amazing value. However, beware that if you invite people for dinner in India you have to pay for them. As I discovered, when choosing a fancy restaurant to celebrate my birthday with friends.
Mukhwas (not my photo):
As for eating the food. I try to use cutlery if it's available. The novelty of using hands quickly wares off although street food is still usually hands first.....
As far as snacking goes India has some amazing sweets. However, you might have noticed that I'm a bit of a health nut and don't really eat many sweets so my preferred choice is coconut. And MAN I LOVE COCONUT. Coconuts are more common in the south hence prices down there are 15-25RS (c. $0.40 cents) vs. 30-40RS in the north. You'll also pay more for those that have coconut meat in as well as coconut water. A great way to see a bit of machete action as the server will cut the coconut up whilst likely looking away from the blade and talking to his mate about the cricket.
Please note that I do have 'more than 1' coconut eating t-shirts and also often share my 'coconut time' with guys as well as girls, these girls just looked better in the pics:
And like any tropical location the choice of fruit is AMAZING. I'll hopefully be here for the mango festival end of June (goo.gl/2JZfv) but here are some other delights.
A few choices of Water Melons...
Cherries :)
Regular snacks like nuts and crisps offer one difference in India. The packets require He-Man like qualities to open. Whereas back home I'd be used to pulling open a packet of crisps from the side, it's not the done thing here (I can hold my entire body weight on my hands but cannot open a packet of crisps!). You need to tear it subtly or look like an eejit (me nearly every time I try).
So is Indian Food Healthy? Well the majority of the population are vegetarians so rely on foods made from fantastic plant based ingredients such as the below:
HOWEVER......
Snack foods here have ALOT of dairy and sugar in (eg if ordering a fruit juice ask for a juice without sugar otherwise it will be a sugar juice with fruit).
The west is best culture is very fashionable here. I was on a date with an Indian girl and one of her first comments was that she was 'non veg' as if is was bragging rights. Go to a mall here and you'll find KFCs, McDonald's and other junk food joints packed full of little fat rich kids.
As a result the country now has a diabetes, heart disease and cancer epidemics. For a simple analysis of how this works read The China Study, the largest ever scientific study of nutrition (goo.gl/6TWyE)
Worth noting that South Indian food is more healthy than North Indian as they use more dairy products (south rely on coconut milk) and more bread less rice. South Indian is also more spicy and in my humble opinion is the better of the two. However, please note you are choosing between two of the best tasting cuisines in the world so everyone's a winner!
So here's a classic angle on food. As I'm based in a country with little regulation on drugs everytime I go to the pharmacy I'm asked if I would like Viagra. Most of my friends in their late 30s take Viagra. It's a common request from back home for me to send some. This worries me, come on lads 30s, not 60s! I'm not saying I'm a porn star on every occasion However, since I've changed my diet my sex life has gotten a WHoLE lot better. And more importantly, sex issues of this nature are one of the first sign of heart disease for both men and women. I know smoking, fitness and other things are influences but trust me - watch this:
So how else does the food here effect your health? Well, before I came to India many of my friends insisted I was mad as I'd get really sick. Diarrhea here is a massive issue mainly based on water-borne disease ie. not washing your hands/getting unlucky by how the food was prepared/stored. I've been sick a few times and India in the summer is not a place you want to get sick. Trust me. So, in 8 months I've only had what I'd call proper diarrhea twice ie. cannot move from the toilet and when you do you're super weak, I put it down to good luck and the following:
ALWAYS wash your hands. This is often hard especially if you are at a rural family house, in a temple or getting street food. I work in a building full of international charities next door to the presidential palace and yet we often don't have running water/soap in the toilet so make sure you have a sanitation gel handy. The below will make you realise just how important sanitation is.....
Avoid Meat - Easy for a veggie to say but eating meat increases your likelihood of getting sick as in India they don't store meat in the best conditions so it picks up bacteria. Most of my friends here who are non-veg get sick at least once a month.
Take probiotics and milk thistle supplements. Put simply they are the best defense against the bad bacteria that causes Diarrhea.
Choose your food wisely - If your coconut seller is scrapping out the inside with filthy hands don't eat it! A good friend once said to me - cheap street food is a false economy - you only end up spending the money on toilet paper. Street food here is good but be careful of the vendor's hygiene.
Have re-hydration salts handy. It might seem simple but they could save your life
If you simply have a Delhi Belly then just rest and go easy on your diet by doing a mini fast then slowly introducing non rich and acidic foods. If it's serious get to the hospital/doctor. It could be giardia, dysentery or worse but they are all treatable. Main thing is that you keep re-hydrated. Only take Imodium if it's an emergency ie. you are travelling and have Diarrhea. If it wants to come out let it out!
To aid recovery my staple diet is bananas, curd, plain rice, re-hydration salts and LOADS of water. Once you are back to normal back get back to the amazing Indian food :)
In day to day life you will have to deal with the output of food even if you aren't sick and Indian toilets can be a unique experience. Firstly, get used squatting over a hole, using your left hand to wash yourself and breathing through your mouth. There are western toilets (seated) around but based on hygiene I prefer the Indian ones (squatters). If you are using a western toilet also be prepared for the bum gun which is a jet powered steam of water to self clean. Go easy, it's not a toy ;) Indian rail offer possibly the worst toilet experiences I've had (in contraction to their food!) but as a western tourist you should be able to get away with going in any restaurant/hotel and asking to use the toilet so don't be afraid. And remember to wash your hands ;)
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