FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

Privacy - we take it for granted.  Annonymity.  Keeping your thoughts to yourself and not revealing your emotions.  Minding your own business - funny Western traits.  Not so here, your business is everyone's business and the scrutiny to which one is subjected is quite remarkable.  The students have a point with that wrap-around headscarf !

Visiting the doctor in Italy was always a very sociable event - you walked into the waiting room and greeted everyone, soon everyone was chatting. Il dottore, mine always wore a bow tie, would then come out and invite the patient into his rooms.  In England, it was a case of strict annonymity and you didn't look to right or left - a beurocratic process and you were part of the system.  Here in India, you go in to see the doctor in pairs and a quick rotational system operates - he takes blood pressure of patient no. 1, while asking patient no. 2, what his problem is, says goodbye to patient no. 1 and starts examining patient no. 2, while patient no. 3 walks in and sits down, etc. etc.  Wonder if he ever gets muddled - books an ingrowing toenail removal for someone who has kidney stones ?

6 KGS.

India is full of surprises, like the gym I've just joined - it's quite the best I've ever encountered, with up to the minute equipment and loads of personal trainers - even water, between exercises, is brought to you on a tray !

Losing 6 kgs of weight, since I arrived here 3 months ago, has been effortless, since I eat to survive rather than with any sense of enjoyment - 'Have I eaten any protein today ?  No !  Better eat a couple of nuts' !   I think this is true for a lot of people who face  a radical change of diet.  The thing I miss most is a fresh green salad with rocket, virgin olive oil and a few olives.   I miss the market in Florence and the gorgeous smell of the fruit and vegetables and think longingly of the porcini mushrooms which must be on sale now, and the pleasure people take in food.  With damp Autumn, everyone will be out in forests with their sticks hunting for mushrooms and collecting them in wicker baskets and thinking up delectable recipes like risotto with funghi.  Good food and the delight people take in it, must be the great pleasure of Italy - the pride they take in a good bistecca or the flavour of excellent parmisan, the way a butcher will handle the meat cuts - yes, I do miss it !

TWO WHEELERS, THREE WHEELERS

I've decided that motor bikes are definitely the best way to get around.  The exhilaration of traveling on the back  and hanging onto the seat bar is quite unbeatable.  At first I was terrified by the idea of letting go my grip and falling off, or the driver misjudging the width of his bike and being squashed, but having traveled a few times now, I'm actually beginning to lean into the curve, lifting one hand free and loving the rush of wind through my hair - nobody here wears crash helmets.  In Italy, crash helmets became quite a fashion item and young Italians, wouldn't bother to remove the headgear when they dismounted, but would simply push it to the back of the head.   Of course, wearing jeans, I'm sitting astride the bike, unlike the Indian women in their saris, who sit side saddle.  You even see mother, father and kids riding along, one child in front, then father at the handlebars, behind him another child, sometimes two and then mother bringing up the rear - 5 on one bike !

The auto rickshaw is a more sedate option - again the air-conditioning is great, as they have a roof but no sides, but being three wheelers, if the front wheel misses the rut in the road, the two back wheels will certainly find it and on one journey, the bumps were so violent, that I returned home with a headache and suspected whiplash damage to my neck !   As for stuffing people into a rickshaw, which will comfortably seat two,  I have, on occasion, counted as many as twelve passengers !

UNDER AN INDIGO SKY

It was an open air gathering in the long courtyard of a school.  White plastic chairs filled the area and people were hushed and intent - you could have heard a pin drop.  I looked up at the indigo night sky, the sickle moon and a single star and then let my gaze drift back to the stage - a huge white backdrop, beautifully lit and a young Indian girl singing a sanskrit prayer.  In the centre sat the swami dressed in saffron robes against a blue cushion.  The last notes of the hymn died away and there was perfect silence for a while.  Then the swami began to speak in a strong clear voice.  His philosophy bubbled out effortlessly and humorously, as he teased his audience, while at the same time dealing with the concepts of belief, logic and the creation.  The audience remained in rapt attention for the hour and a half.

CHAI

I have just discovered that the word 'chai' is the Hindi word for 'tea' !  To me, chai means one thing and that is 'Masala chai' - a very hot spicy drink.   Tea grew wild in Assam from antiquity but was treated by the locals as a medicine (the Italians still regard tea as a medicine) and it was only until the British turned it into an industry to supply the home market, that it was taken seriously in India itself.  The British encouraged factory owners to give their employees tea breaks and so it gradually caught on - now chai wallahs are ubiquitous and are seen on every street corner dispensing their brew and are an essential part of train travel.

Of course it is quite a different drink to the one we all know -  tea without milk and sugar and sometimes with a little lemon.  But here they simmer a mixture of water, milk and tea leaves to which a lot of sugar is added and the all important spices - cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, peppercorn and cloves.  It's served in little glasses too hot to hold and the tea itself is so hot you can't drink it immediately.

Everyone has their own theory about what makes the tea special - they'll say,   'oh it's definitely the black pepper'   or   'ginger is the best ingredient'.    Even the expats have strong views about this and the mortar and pestle will be brought out, as they set about grinding the best combination of spices to be added to the brew.

Indians believe that the Western palette is not attuned to their spicy food and need constant reassurance that in fact it's the spices which make it all so interesting.  After all, that was the basis for the spice trade long ago.  In medieval Italy, people spiced their food so much that it was believed at one time, that the spices themselves, had caused the plague - indirectly, it was true, for it was the trading ships returning to Genoa, which brought the disease with them.

HENNA

It's very relaxing sitting back and watching someone applying a henna design to your hand.  Henna is sold in cones, like a small thin ice cream cone, for about five rupees.  The end is snipped off to create a hole through which the henna is squeezed and then the artist can apply the paste, as if icing a cake.  Traditionally it is used on Brides the night before the wedding, as a goodluck symbol and their hands and feet are decorated with some complex patterns - the first letter of the Groom's name is hidden in the design and he is given the task of finding it!  The longer the paste is left on, the darker the colour.  It dries as a raised pattern, and drops off leaving an orange stain which darkens over the next few days into a brownish colour.  It's all because of lawsone molecules migrating from the henna and bonding with the outer layers of the skin, so I'm told.  The artist applying the henna design said that it was as relaxing to create the pattern as it was to be at the receiving end ! 

Good way to celebrate Diwali - everyone is wishing everyone 'Happy New Year' and buildings are draped from top to bottom in coloured electric lights - a mood of festivity pervades every corner.  This will usher in the wedding season, from November onwards, when there will be singing and dancing and elaborate processions through town as the celebrations go on for days.

FOOTPRINTS?