Shimmering India - First Impressions

We've launched the next phase of the "If Not Now, When?" Tour de monde in India, where we arrived from Africa last week (BTW - as a general travel note, we took 8 flights in Africa all of which, surprisingly, took off and landed on time. This is more than can be said for our dear Canadian national carrier who managed to cancel the first flight of this adventure and send us and our luggage on a goose chase to Paris via Frankfurt).

India is a place I've always wanted to visit driven by a large curiosity about the size and density of the place and the prospects of exploring a new civilization, not just a culture. First impressions suggest we're in for a delightful albeit tumultuous ride. When Gandhi was asked what we thought about Western civilization, he famously replied "I think it would be a good idea". I have a strong sense that this country ticks to a profoundly different spirit and rhythm than I've seen elsewhere. Where Africa certainly had its deep tribal and spiritual pulses, it is fighting an uphill battle with "Western civilization" as it drowns under the trappings of cellphones and Christianity and struggles still virtually unnoticed under the HIV/AIDS pandemic. India clearly charts its own course through a complex web of gods and religions, temples and mantras - all of which we are keen to get immersed in as best we can. One senses that this is a shimmering place - from the wildly neon-coloured saris to the bright flower garlands seen around its temples.

One is constantly reminded that you are in a country of over a billion people. People are everywhere - down every lane way, piled onto overflowing buses that make Lesotho's mini-taxis look spacious. It is easy to visit several cities in one day that you had previously never heard of -all of which have populations of over one million. With a huge numbers of motorcycles, tuk-tuks, buses, trucks and taxis, the India driver tries to perform the daily alchemy of converting two lanes into four. Driving can be characterized more as weaving - with vehicles constantly pulling out in front of and then trying to cut-off other vehicles. I suspect that the most common component of an Indian vehicle requiring regular repair and replacement is the horn. All of this, of course, seeds the muggy atmosphere with a pall of pollution that makes you feel you are wearing the exhaust. It does, however, make for beautiful sunsets!

We started our Indian adventure in the old Portuguese colony of Goa. Goa was a Portuguese colony until 1961, when Nehru, tired of using diplomatic channels, overran the colony with the army in 24 hours. Despite much international criticism and accusations of violations of UN resolutions, it seemed pretty good retribution for a rich history of torture and slavery that the Portuguese apparently meted out over their 5 century tenure. The Portuguese tradition is much in evidence in Goa from the architecture, whopping big churches (and many of them) and even local wine production (which I was advised to leave unsampled). This is a picturesque but somewhat touristy place evidently favoured by "hail-thee-well" Whatney's Red Barrel British retirees who come year after year to the same beach chairs on Baga Beach. The beaches here have a rich hippy history and some of the aforementioned visitors annually try to reclaim their youth - packing their generously bloated bodies into tie-died sling tops and terrorizing the locals by trying to convince themselves they can actually drive motorcycles (not that the locals would be able to identify this trait themselves). We spent five days here with our friend Judy from Victoria who has just finished doing some volunteer work in Poona. It was nice to get an update on things at home and share the rich Goan cuisine with a friend. While the beaches are very nice and the Arabian sea affords a refreshing swim, they hold but a flickering candle to our present "gold standard" in Zanzibar (reviewed elsewhere in this blog).

Yesterday, we ventured to Kochi on the Malabar coast in Kerala, India's southernmost state. We travelled by "second class sleeper" on the legendary Indian train system (As strange as it may seem, the system is apparently phasing out "First Class"). One of the many bits of serious infrastructure bequeathed by the British to their "Jewel in the Crown", the Indian railway corporation is the world's largest employer with 1.3 million employees. The systems seems to work - but in its own pace and modus operandi. It retains a strong element of old-fashioned British bureaucracy - reservations a must, usually three days in advance of your trip and "applied for" through forms completed in triplicate. As a bonus for our initial train trip, the Corporation generously added 3 hours to our 13 hour scheduled trip from Goa. The trains themselves are very functional and somewhat Soviet in their appearance. Ceiling fans crudely tacked to the ceiling and whirling at full pace throughout the trip. Windows are grated but open, providing the opportunity to emerge from the train at the end of your journey wearing a souvenir of your journey in the form of a rich melange of dust and exhaust gathered through the window. The inside scenery is one of a market with the widest array of hawkers and beggars crawling up and down the narrow aisles plying their trades. In addition to a wide variety of drinks and snacks to be purchased, we were offered books, watches, colognes, toys (with very irritating noises emanating from within) and provided many opportunities to support beggars, some of whom presented printed pamphlets detailing their sadly pathetic plights in the world. This is, perhaps, an experience we will try to avoid repeating over the next few months here - but a colourful introduction to India nonetheless.