Two months in south India has been good on the whole. Its changed since the mid 80s- mobile phones, internet cafes, modern cars, flat screen TVs, etc. But its still India, filthy, polluted and poor. Broken pavements, delapidated buildings, endless hassles of Want rickshaw, visit my shop just looking, come to my cousins hotel, buy Tshirt.....? This is my first time in the south (Hels been here before so shes devised the itinerary largely). Been to a number of famous temples which to me look a lot like fair ground attractions- huge buildings with larger than life grotesque figures piled one on top of another, all brightly painted and topped off with the ogres of death- and I got blessed by a teenage elephant. You hold out a 10 Rupee note which it takes in its trunk using the septum, which is not connected to the lower lip of the trunk and acts as a finger, lifts its trunk and, for a creature of that size, gently touches the top of your head before passing the note to its keeper. I also got savaged by a young bullock. Helen had been feeding him little sweet bananas. As I moved past him to get a better angle for a photo, he must have thought I was after his snack. His head went down as he charged forward lifting his horned skull into my groin. He ripped through my shorts but, fortunately his horns were blunt enough that my right testicle didnt end up impaled on his left horn. I managed to smile throughout the episode and save face. The popular culture of TV and radio dominates the public audio space. Women singing songs with voices that sound like theyve inhaled vast quantites of helium gas and young men with six-pack torsos and sunglasses prance/dance their way across the nations screens on a hundred different channels in perfect unison looking mean and lean and not a little bit camp. The beginning of the call to prayer sounds like an air raid siren going off and it was reassuring to see a Hindu woman in a bright yellow sari handing a baby to a Muslim woman in a black burka and exchanging some mutual information. I love the saris. Beautiful colours, patterns and designs and real taste for colour combinations. Sea on the east coast is too unpredictable (and dirty) to swim in. We stayed at an old 17th century Danish Fort village for a few days. It was a very boring, not a very friendly place and was badly affected by the 2004 tsunami. Abandoned houses on one side of the street, rubble roads. Money was sent but nobody knows where it went. The fort on the sea edge looks like it had been constructed from a flat-pack. The two times we sat on the rocks by the fishing boats to admire the view fishermen took very obvious dumps at the sea edge. I think this was a signal to us to bugger off. So we did. Mysore. Rymes with Eyesore. Which is being a bit cruel I know but given the awful traffic, umpteen half finished road works, broken pavements and general grubbyiness pretty much sums it up. However, the Masala Dosas are to die for as are the Jamoons and Iddly Sambas. For a quid you can eat as much as you like at the hotels breakfast buffet and it sets you up for the day (unless youre one of those who incessantly graze then theres lots of delicious street samosas, pakkora and bargees to graze on!) The Maharajas Palace in Mysore is a great place to spend the afternoon. Fantastically OTT. Its a combination of interior decorations that included traditional Indian crossed with Victorian Gothic floor tiles (similar to those in the Houses of Parliament), Art Nouveau floral patterns on the walls, faux Egyptian and Greek lamp holders and Fairground style stripes on the columns. Eggshell blue next to mushroom pink, pale moss green and deep purple. Lots of gold and silver framing devices and intricately carved marquetry around the door frames. Silver and glass chairs for visting dignitaries, teak carved ceiling rosettes like in Downton Abby (I imagine) and a very large number of well executed murals painted by four local artists showing a procession. Lots of stern faced Indian soldiers and cavalry and British Raja dignitaries rubbing shoulders (probably reluctantly) with long haired Sadus and ash smeared holy men. Given the psychogical detail in the faces these people look as if they actually existed. Stained glass skylights, all peacocks and flower patterns, let in a soft light to the vast multi-columned halls. If you need to emotionally toughen up Indias the place to do it. It seems a place of extremes to me. Friendly smiles, people over helpfulness at times, smooth charm contrasted with in -your- face suffering, rudeness and some belligerence. Still, the trains run on time and are cheap, even cheaper if youre a pensioner!
Posted on: Sun, 09 Mar 2014 08:45:04 +0000
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