Monkey business

I was reading the paper at Café Mocha on Lavelle Road on a Sunday morning recently when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to see a monkey! He had climbed down from the trees and was stealthily making his way to the table next to mine. Cool as a cucumber, he quickly and determinedly helped himself to the sugar packets in a bowl on the table – taking only the brown-coloured ones and not the white ones! Before I could blink an eye, he had already climbed back up the tree! Moments later, empty sugar packets fell to the ground one by one. He was obviously savouring his loot!

I’ve seen monkeys mostly in rural settings and at temples, but they are also very much part of the urban landscape of many Indian cities. I remember seeing a pack of monkeys crossing the road in New Delhi, with the babies riding piggyback on their mothers’ backs! I have never seen monkeys in my neighbourhood in Bangalore, but I have heard many stories from people who have walked into their kitchen to see a monkey opening their fridge to see what’s inside, or lounging on their sofa helping themselves to any drinks or snacks lying around!

These creatures are fascinating because of their human-like qualities and sharp intelligence. But they can also be aggressive and intimidating. Apparently in New Delhi, monkeys have become a real menace. The authorities have tried using monkey catchers to capture the monkeys and then release them in forests, but they’re not so easy to catch. A monkey even managed to board the metro one day, terrorising passengers before he got off three stops later! The Delhi Metro Rail Corporation took on a new employee since this incident: a langur monkey and his handler are called in to scare away the smaller, pesky macaques whenever they get out of hand!

Ashwini's wedding

It had taken a long time for my landlords to find the right match for their youngest daughter. They had scanned the matrimonial ads, made inquiries through their friends and family members and even spent 3 months in the US (where their daughter lives) to screen potential candidates. In the end she found her future husband herself: a former university mate who also works and lives in the US. Finally a date was set!

Though I had been invited to many South Indian weddings, I had only attended the reception which was always a bit of a disappointment. What typically happens is you arrive for the reception and join the long line of people waiting to greet the couple. Once it's your turn, you go up on stage where the newly married couple is standing, congratulate them and hand them your gift. A photographer then takes your picture with the happy couple. You then proceed to the dining hall where you are served lunch or dinner (depending on the time of the reception). Then in true Indian fashion, you leave immediately after having eaten.

My landlords had told me the date of the wedding months in advance and asked us to attend all three days of the wedding. Finally I would have the chance to see what happens during a South Indian wedding!

On the first night, there was a mendhi party. All the women have their hands painted with these intricate designs.

On the second day the engagement ceremony was held. Here the bride sits beside her father while her mother stands behind her. The priests chant prayers in Sanskrit. This was an Iyer Brahmin wedding which follows special rituals. During the ceremony I asked the women sitting next to me to explain some of the rituals to me. I didn't get a more detailed answer than: "This is our tradition." Finally she admitted that though she is familar with all these rituals, she doesn't really know the significance of them.

When I arrived for the wedding ceremony on the morning of the third day, I found the couple seated on a swing outside! I was told this was another traditional wedding ritual. The bride's mother wears her sari draped in a special way worn by Iyer women on special occasions.

The father's role in the wedding ceremony is very important. The bride sits on her father's lap, holding a coconut, while the groom stands in front of her.

An emotional moment when the father 'gives away' his daughter to her husband-to-be.

Playing of the nadaswaram during the wedding is considered auspicious. When an important moment of the ceremony was taking place, someone would gesture to the musicians who would speed up the music to a climax.

The groom has already tied the bridal 'thali' (necklace) around his bride's neck. Next they will walk seven times around the sacred fire, after which they are a married couple.

Priests, colourful saris and wedding paraphenalia.

The wedding ceremony took about three hours!

The house was decorated with colourful lights for the three days of the wedding!

India overland

Above image courtesy of Hans Grimm.

Though I’ve travelled by plane a countless number of times, air travel never ceases to amaze me. You step into an airplane and a few hours later, you arrive in a different city, country, continent. With the convenience of travelling by air and the ease and affordability of communication today, the world seems to be a lot smaller than just a few decades ago.

Today most travellers to India arrive by plane. But during the late 1960s and 1970s, the only way to travel to India was overland! Sure there were flights to India, but most travellers preferred the overland route from Europe, passing through Western then Eastern Europe, then Turkey, Iran, (sometimes taking a detour into Syria and Iraq) Afghanistan and Pakistan before arriving in India and often continuing on to Kathmandu, Nepal.

These adventurers made the 12,500 km trip in converted London taxicabs, fire trucks, double-decker buses, Royal Mail vans, or brightly painted buses and VW vans. Though they often had a fixed travel itinerary, they rarely had any set plans, little luggage and very little money. In 1973, the travel company Intertrek offered a 3 1/2 month trip from London to Kathmandu for £280. In 1974, a one-way trip to Delhi from London cost £50 with Budget Bus while Magic Bus offered a non-stop 4-day trip from Amsterdam to Delhi for $45. A one-way trip from London to Kathmandu with Swagman Tours travelled through 15 countries and took 76 days.

I love to hear about what it was like to travel overland during this time and why young people were so drawn to India. My mother-in-law who was 24 in 1968 loves to tell me about her hippie days so I asked her if she knew of anyone who had travelled overland to India. She said that although many of her friends had talked about it, she had only heard of people who had made the trip. She explained that rejecting a career and travelling to Asia without money was a way for young people to rebel against their ‘bourgeois’ upbringing. “Drugs were also a very big part of it,” she confirmed. My artist neighbour in Brussels told me that in his youth he would spend months at a time in India and Sri Lanka, painting. When I asked him how he used to travel there, he said mostly by hitchhiking and sometimes by bus. Then there’s the mother of my friend Lisa who bought an old taxicab in London and drove across Asia in it!

In a fascinating book by Rory Maclean, The Magic Bus: On the hippie trail from Istanbul to India, the author retraces the overland trip to India made by hippie travellers in the late 60s and 70s. He explains how a whole generation was inspired to make the trip thanks to Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and the other ‘Beats’, as well as the Beatles. On the Road by Jack Kerouac (published in 1957) seems to have sparked the wanderlust of this generation. A recent book, Deborah Baker’s A Blue Hand: The Beats in India narrates Ginsberg’s and some of the other Beats’ travels through India in the early 60s.

With the 1979 Iranian revolution, the overland hippie route was definitively closed. This unique travel adventure was experienced by only one generation. Very few make this trip overland today. Though travelling through Iran is now feasible, this may be more of a challenge in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Some interesting links:

Click here for an account of a 1973 overland trip from London to Kathmandu.

Photos taken in 1975 during an overland trip to India by Hans Grimm.

See also this site: India Overland.

The Rain Tree

For the longest time, I didn’t know what the name of the huge tree outside my window was. It stretches at least four stories tall and it’s long branches reach almost to either end of the street. This majestic tree seems ancient to me. But my landlady swears that the tree is as old as her house – 25 years. “My house is very old!” she likes to tell me.

At the beginning of the year, the tree loses all its leaves. But before the last leaf has fallen, new ones are already blooming. It always amazes me how quickly this tree completes this annual cycle of regeneration: it takes only two to three weeks.

The tree stretches its branches across the terrace and over the roof as if it had long protective arms which guard the house and shield us from the heat of the sun. It gives the terrace some much-needed shade, and thanks also to the two huge banyan trees just behind the house, the interior is always cool.

In a bookshop, I came across a book on the trees of India. I went through the illustrations and found the description and some illustrations of the tree I was looking for. This tree has a very wide canopy. It grows to a height of about 25 metres and its branches can spread out to a diameter of 40 metres. In spring, it produces pink flowers which look like bristles in the form of a small ball or pompom. At night, its rows of small oval leaves close up, folding together. This also happens when it rains, hence its name… the Rain Tree! Finally I had a name for my tree. I had heard of the Rain Tree before, but I didn’t know it was the tree outside my window.

Keeping cool

For the past week, the weather has been hotter than usual. We really have fast-forwarded to summer! Temperatures have reached the mid-30s and it’s only February. Such temperatures are expected in the peak of the summer months of April and May, but not in February!

The city is noticeably quieter in the afternoons because everyone prefers to take shelter indoors with fans and air conditioners working non-stop. This extra demand for electricity means the daily power cuts are back with a new vengeance – up to four a day.

On the streets, watermelons are for sale – big piles of them stacked by the side of the road where they’re sold for 10 rupees a kilo. Vendors selling tender coconut water and sugar cane juice also have lots of customers. It looks like it’s going to be a long hot summer!

Phantom India

When I was in Europe last summer, I came across a collection of documentaries by the French filmmaker Louis Malle called ‘L’Inde Fantôme’ or 'Phantom India'. This collection of eight documentary films were made in the late 1960s. They offer a fascinating glimpse into different aspects of Indian life and society at the time. What strikes me watching them 40 years later, is how much India has changed and how some things haven’t changed at all.

Malle filmed this series of short films as a detached observer, offering the spectator glimpses into moments frozen in time. At times he runs a commentary on certain aspects of Indian society, but most of the scenes have no dialogue – they are just short glimpses of different scenes he comes across:

• A wedding party procession in a rural village. They spot the 3 foreigners with a camera and stop in their tracks. They silently observe them for a few long moments and then continue on their way.

• A demonstration by post office employees in Kerala.

• Women drawing kolams on their doorsteps.

• Vultures devouring an animal carcass.

• The temple of Konark where they meet two French hippie travellers who travelled overland to India without money, luggage or real direction.

• Manual workers making bricks or working on a construction site.

• The rituals you see in a temple performed by priests and devotees.

• I was also interested to see dance classes going on at Kalakshetra in Madras, when it was still on the grounds of the Theosophical Society and the clips of BKS Iyengar teaching yoga in Bombay.

Phantom India was broadcast by the BBC in the early 1970s. The Indian government was outraged by the film and demanded that they be taken off the air. When this didn’t happen, the BBC was banned from India for many years. Why such outrage? Maybe for the same reasons as some of the reactions to Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire. Malle had captured India as it was (at the time), filming instinctively and without judgement whenever something interesting caught his eye. The footage of the slums of Calcutta and Mumbai and the lepers’ colony in Calcutta did not seem to please the Indian government. The hierarchy of the caste system is a theme he picked up on repeatedly as well as the ‘westernization’ of India.

There are some clips of the film on YouTube:

Sleepless nights

Winter has already fast forwarded to summer and it’s too hot to sleep with the window closed. But in my sleep I hear a constant tap, tap, tap and a whistle being blown outside my window. It’s the night watchman making his rounds!

Security seems to be an obsession in India. All the houses have metal bars across the windows and often balconies are also closed in. Apart from feeling like I’m in a prison, I’ve often thought of the potential fire safety issues of being caged in like this. Apparently this is to deter thieves and monkeys. I’ve never seen monkeys in my neighbourhood, but I have in other parts of Bangalore, so this seems plausible.

Our landlords strongly encouraged us to put a lock on our front gate when we first moved in. With two locks on our front door, we didn’t think this was necessary, but every evening they carefully lock their own gate with a chain and padlock as an extra precaution.

Security guards are conspicuous in India and are probably never out of work. Every building, business and shop has a security guard stationed at the door, day and night. Every apartment building also has one. I can’t visit a friend without being asked to fill in a register with my name, address, phone number, reason for my visit, time of arrival and departure. Perhaps this is sensible given the current security climate but of course with increased security comes less privacy and more hassle.

Some households have their own private security guard stationed permanently outside their home on a chair or sometimes in a small shelter. Walking home at night, I often see these security guards fast asleep on their chairs!

In my neighbourhood, a collection of households each pay a small monthly fee which is pooled and paid to the night watchman for his salary. He starts his shift around 10pm and roams the streets until sunrise, tapping a wooden stick on the ground and blowing a whistle… protecting us and our property from thieves and external menaces.

I hear the tap, tap, tap and shrill of his whistle in my sleep without it disturbing me too much. But my poor husband spends many sleepless nights thanks to the night watchman we are paying to protect us. He complained to our landlord who is in charge of ‘supervising’ the watchman. He told us that other neighbours have complained that they don’t hear the watchman! Which led us to wonder what the point of the whistle and stick is… Is it to deter potential thieves? Or is to let us know he is there and doing his job?

In the end we asked the watchman not to blow his whistle when he passes our house. This works for a while but then he forgets, or another watchman takes over who has an even better pair of lungs. Maybe if we pay him a little extra he’ll remember?

Above photo courtesy of Ravages.