A rough guide to Indian roads Vol.2

Long time back I wrote a rough guide to Delhi roads. Recently, I stumbled upon this small video.

Dilli.

This time I won’t say anything. All that needs to be said, is in the movie.

 

Dilli’ is a multiple-award winning documentary that has played in over 50 international film festivals across North America, South America, Africa, Europe and Asia.
Synopsis

In this city, a dream is born everyday.
Simple dreams.
Patient dreams.

Millions of people across India leave behind their homes and families, in the hope of finding a better life in Delhi. Completing 100 years as the capital of modern India, Delhi today stands at the crossroads of time. Among the fastest growing cities in the world, this is also the city that is home to India’s second largest slum population.

As Delhi straddles through its different worlds, Dilli tells the story of this city, as seen through very different eyes. Shot in the heart of this bustling megapolis, Dilli finds its storytellers in the men, women and children who are the invisible hands that continue to build this city of dreams.
Directed by: Rintu Thomas and Sushmit Ghosh
Camera: Sushmit Ghosh
Editing: Rintu Thomas
Sound Design: Pratik Biswas
Music: Wes Freeman, Ishaan Chhabra, IP Singh (Menwhopause)
Black and White photography: Sayan Dutta
Graphics: Ashutosh Guru
Production Manager: Pulkita Parsai
Art: Rhea D’souza

Produced by: Black Ticket Films and Robin Raina

A Black Ticket Films Production, 2011

For more information about this film, contact blackticketfilms[at]gmail[dot]com

Think Tank Dossier: India Europe Poland is out.

Just came back from Warsaw with a nicely printed copy of it. Feels really good, as I have spent a good chunk of my time on this one over the past three months.

Think Tank is a platform and a magazine for business and public administration leaders in Poland. Dossiers are special issues of Think Tank Magazine, focused on particular areas – in this case on the multilateral relations between Europe and India in the light of current Polish EU presidency.

You can grab your own free copy from here. It was a very good learning experience and a promising beginning of my cooperation with Think Tank Magazine.

Looking forward to your opinions! Hope we didn’t make (m)any compromising  mistakes in this one!

“Come to Poland, your bike is here already!”. The story of one Indian and one lost bike.

The title is an old German joke, from the early 90-ties, or maybe even 80-ties, when Poland was particularly (in)famous for overdosing our national treasure (meaning vodka) and stealing cars. Now – neither of these bad habits are that prominent, but they’re still not replenished completely.

Somen Debnath – obviously a Bong (only Bong do such crazy things) – has been touring on his bicycle for seven years now, visiting over 60 countries and doing 80 000 kilometers with a mission to spread awareness about HIV and promote culture of West Bengal. Well – at least he says so, although I have also been planning a world tour and I know a good PR crap is necessary in that case. The goal is to travel. But that’s unrelated.

So… after all this impressive effort and dozens of adventures including being captured by Talibans, Mr. Debnath.. got his bike stolen in our lovely capital.

Sad, but well this can happen everywhere (including India) and there’s thousand of bikes getting stolen on a daily basis. That’s not what’s interesting about it..

Interesting is the reaction.

Poles did, what we do best – a big, national, spontaneous “Action”.  Yep, we’re really good in cracking big social actions, if only the topic is idealistic enough and if the national pride is involved… big things happen (you may want to check Great Orchestra of Christmas Charity – one of the biggest charity events in the world).

Somen was a CouchSurfer and the bike has been stolen from the staircase of his CS host, who immidiately took action to help his guest find the bike. The results were outstaning. Just few hours later a Facebook event he created had few hundreds of participants willing to help and by the end of the action – the numbers crossed 4000! People and companies started offering the financial help to the traveller, as well as bike parts and whole  bikes- both second hand as new ones. All, so that he could continue his journey. By the end of day 3 Somen had a new dilemma: which bike to choose??

In the meantime – he and his mission have been covered by most of national media, giving him attention he would probably never get otherwise and hence – helping his message to get through to people.

The funnies thing is – that finally, even Police had even cought the thefts. Thing that in case of smaller crimes, barerly ever really happens.

Wonder now, what is the impression he’ll take out of Poland on his way to the remaining 131 countries he’s planning to visit before 2020?

Possibility of underground in Delhi.

Ok, I’ve just created a BeatPort account. For a sole purpose of downloading the subContinental Bass album, featuring a selection of best bass heavy Indian electronica. “this compilation is the messenger of a movement” says Generation Bass blog, and I say -I knew it will come, but it happened way earlier than I expected

Here’s what I’m taking about:

But there’s more than this to say that we’re about to observe the birth of Indian underground…

My friend He Ra is doing an amazing thing both in Delhi and in Bombay. He’s teaching slum kids how to breakdance in his Tiny Drops India Hip Hop Community Centres.  Nothing much needs to be said about it – simply check out the link and look at the video below:

Graffitti culture is growing strong as well, there are workshops and a facebook page committed to it.

Oh, and I almost forgot – there’s a superexciting project called Bant SIngh Project, where the modern electronica meets the genuine Punjabi rural Rebel. (You can download the whole thing and remixes for free from the website!)

I guess, I was mistaken.

But Different went to SEA. Highlights (WIP)

1. Kewpie’s Kitchen in Calcutta. Tiny joint hidden off the Shakespeare street and manager by a journalist (who used to work in Poland). Awesome homemade food, small talks with the owner and fantastic decor. Real gem.

2. Hoi An. Shopping and chilling and cycling around. Probably the best beach in Vietnam. (If there’s sun) and definitely the best tailors. Two suits and two pairs custom made sandals joined me on the trip from there. Oh – and a swimming pool in a hotel and free drinks every evening 6.30, next to it. For 8$ a night…

3. Hue. The tomb of Khải Định.  Harmony of architecture and nature taken to new heights. Brilliant.

4. Ha Long Bay – the „tour” didn’t quite match the expectations, but looking at the endless sea of mountains rising up straight from the ocean … Priceless. And two days of just chilling on the boat in a good company is not to be dismissed either.

5. Singapore before noon. Air heavy with solitude you can almost touch. And Singapore in the evening – superficial and extremely cheesy, but with Simon and Jas compensating for it. Nice to recall familiar faces (in their natural environment – Simon especially :P). Last visit to Indian hairdresser and last head massage in Little India. Will return…once I have more money.

6.  Saxchi evening. A village for tourists, without tourists. A conversation with a German botanists temporarily managing a hostel here, followed by cheap dinner at a local joint with menu consisting of not only list of dishes, but also few useful phrases in Chinese like “no spices” “little oil” “no salt”; this followed by a local dark beer (awesome) and concluded with a 17 year old hostel neighbour knocking at my door with a spliff  in his hand. We had a little chat – led via google.translate. “You will remember this evening, he wrote me” and that’s when I realize I should probably cut it short.

7. Tiger Leaping Gorge trek. 3900m – that’s how deep it is from the peak of the mountain to the riverbed. One of the best sunrise and sunset I’ve ever seen.

8. Mama Naxi. A family guesthouse with head of family clearly not being her husband. Experiencing real Naxi life with family dinners (yum! For 20Y unlimited home made food) and small gifts (bananas, tea, medicines and a necklace for good luck). Family arguments & a small army of cats&dogs included in the price, along with Wi-Fi and unlocked Facebook. To hear “Wait, Mama is cooking for you!” when she noticed I was about to leave the guest house – priceless!

9. A spontaneously organized tour-group. With two (not really) Chinese guides, two Swiss, one Pole (excluding me) and one Brit and a lovely mini-bus driver in Yuan Yang. Fine, rice terraces were cool, but without this here bunch of people it could have been a nightmare to organize it all. And yes – ping pong rules!

10.  Chinese Ice Tea. Starting from Malaysia – my only constant travel buddy. Three to four bottles a day. I probably spent on it more than on hostels!

11. Karaoke in Nha Trang. It was supposed to be a chilled out trip to three offshore islands. I didn’t expect 50 Vietnamese tourists on the boat (and three FAT brits), a tour guide turning a lady-boy-Karaoke band leader in the middle of a trip, a floating bar in the open sea with free wine and few more attractions of this sort. Not necessarily enjoyable I’d say, but memorable – most certainly.

12. Lost in the Supermarket. Well – punk music somehow has been accompanying me on this trip, but that’s not The Clash sort of being lost. It’s more like Lost in Translation. Rows and rows of food, from which I could only figure out bread, ice tea and yoghurt. I learned to appreciate McDonalds.

13.  Runaway bus. Left me on the boarder crossing with Singapore. So I’ve learned Singapore the hard way (and decided to buy a smaller backpack!)

14. Landing in Saigon.  Malaysia has a dead penalty for drugs and a number of other things. How shocked was I when within fifteen minutes after leaving my plane from Kuala Lumpur, I was first approached by a boy who whispered “Marijuana?” “No, thanks” “Cocaine? Opium? Acid?”. When he vanished, a scooty stopped by me, with a boy in the front and girl in the back. “Bum bum?”. “NO, THANKS!”. Later I learned from a rickshaw driver more details “Bum bum? Only 200 000dong” I chose to spend it on a fake North Face backpack.

15. Meetings. You meet a lot of crazy backpackers. By far the best was the American, whom I’ve met in Tiger Leaping Gorge. With a fully loaded big backpack he was doing a 12 day trek to Lugo Lake.  Cupcake. “I just came from Mongolia, we’ve been horse riding there for the past 5 months” – he explained.

16. Love is in the air. Kolkata never heard of fines for PDA it seems. A short stroll in the Victoria’s Memorial gardens and you’re short of fingers to count the couples making out. You’re almost worried you’ll step on one. And it was Monday! On the other hand – I blame Memorial’s beauty for it.

17. Nightlife of Lijiang.  Ethnically dressed women singing what sounded like traditional Chinese songs to a disco beat? A guy in furs running some sort of contests which rules obviously I couldn’t figure out. Indifferent fire fighters in the midst of the crowd raving to Chinese version of “Sexy back”.  Bars for some 1000 seats each. Only in Lijiang!

18.  The most beautiful women I’ve seen in Malaysia: the four stewardesses of the inbound flight with AirAisia. It never gotten even close to it again.

19. Frutti-di-mare dinner in Kuala Selangor ? Perhaps the whole trip to see the fireflies was way overpriced. The main attraction was  quite cool, a bit elusive (especially for the camera), and in a longer while – boring. But the dinner made up for it. Never had so much and so good sea fruits. Had it for lunch the next day as well.

20. A strange trip with Malaysian girls. A minority village that turned out to be relocated to modern, western-style houses. A “scenic-spot” which was a regular stream. A never-found waterfall and an absent local-guru. But a lot of fun just chatting and doing stupid things. And then getting stuck in the middle of nowhere, eating beef-burgers from the street vendor to finally reach Cameron Highlands and discover, there’s nothing to see really. Instead – bumping at a Canadian founder of Backpackers magazine and a brief motorbike visit to tea gardens and hand plucked strawberries.

21. Turbo sightseeing. 3 cities in one day. Get up 6am for pictures in Guangzhou, then rush to Macau. Sightseeing in Macau between 7 and 9.30PM (minus some time for getting lost). Spending all last money for dinner (awesome beef with pineapple) which turns out to cost more as they added extra for rice, tea and taxes.. Then being relieved from paying the outstanding amount. Sightseeing the rest of town with Bus No.3 on the way to ferry terminal and finally – catching a ferry straight to Hong Kong. The end of the story yet to be written. Loco..

22. Hot Pot and China sightseeing at home. I went to Guangzhou as my friend was supposed to be there. But all of the sudden she had to leave (family emergency), leaving me stranded and with a promise of providing me with a contact to someone called “Lukasz”. Ok I said, awesome. So I waited. And waited. And reminded. And again. Finally I got his skype ID but not from her, but in some really weird way she denies to have employed. Anyway- we exchanged couple of mails with Lukasz and set up everything for a meeting. When I arrived it turned out his wife is pregnant with due date.. in a week. I open my laptop and there’s a mail from the friend  who organized the whole thing “Here’s Ela’s e-mail, she’ll host you”. I just heard this name 10 minutes earlier from Lukasz’s wife. She said “Ela has been waiting for you yesterday…” Brilliant communication. Seems like everyone – but me – knew.

Anyway – the visit was brilliant. Instead of really seeing anything in Canton, I’ve spent the afternoon with a couple that’s been living in China for the past 6 years, listening to stories about work, life, watching photographs etc. I’ve learned (and seen) more than if I went out walking around like I usually do.

23. Charming Hong Kong. Re-union after 2 years with Charmaine and after a bit less with Sunny, photography of the city in the move (I lost them…) and a wonderful couchsurfing experience with Belle – being her first CS guest… along with a German who arrived the same night!

24. Songkran. Just a glimpse at the 24h from the few days of this water madness was enough. Thousands of people walking the street in the sole purpose of getting wet and dancing in the mud. Insane.

25. Railey Beach. Climbing up on the  limestone caves rising dramatically up high straight from the blue water and than jumping to dive into the coral reef around.

26. Koh Samet. A strange French roomy, celebrating birthday of randomly met Italian girl and talking life  while after-party swimming at 4am by the full moon.

27. Bangkok shopping. Get super-trendy dressed for summer from head to toes for a price of a t-shirt in Europe. Welcome to Bangkok street shopping. Train your bargaining skills first!

28.  24h in Delhi.  Visiting home, re-packing, a chain of meetings nearly every hour , awesome Punjabi food, last beer in TLR,  buying a suitcase at Sarojini Nagar and closing the day with Imported Go(o)ds party dancing like mad to Dualist Inquiry sick DJ set, and Sha’ir’s– probably the most talented of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen. (or the other way round). Cherry on a pie – a guy (straight) friend telling me, that me disappearing from Delhi is like ending a relationship.

29. I will be back.

30. Will happen when I’m back.

Backpackers Cultural Imperialism

You’re in China, the Disneyland.

A fellow traveller commented during a family dinner at Mama Naxi’s (I rarely do it, but honestly – I advise this family guest house if you ever land up here!) in Lijiang (Yunnan).

The scenery of Lijiang seems to support the statement. Sugar-coated houses with lovely red lamps and backlit roofs, filled up with cafes, souvenir shops and  and overspilling with Chinese tourists (even though it’s not even high season yet), it as “touristic” as it gets. The UNESCO heritage site has lovely preserved Naxi architecture and the guesthouses (like Mama Naxi’s) offer a quite genuine experience of living in a Naxi house, but the whole “spirit” of town is nowhere close to what it was. The street foods are sold from a neat unified stalls in an appointed place and the tiny canals – which a century ago were surely serving as city’s sewerage, now sparkle with clean water and green water grass. Everything is tip top, everything’s shining.

But hey, isn’t it what we want?

Backpackers are often so loud about seeking genuine experiences, and so grumpy whenever they feel places are “touristic”. Because for backpackers, the “real stuff” isn’t the really raw thing. It’s the semi-digested, semi-popular tourists spot. Reserved for backpackers. The “tour tourists” are the EVIL, where they land up, the prices tend to soar, and this is where it hurts.  They are the early adopters. Where the real travellers discover the ground, backpackers come next and are preparing the ground .Once the “tours” discover it as well and 3* hotels with SPA’s start pulling off, they take is a signal to move on. But once confronted with “the real stuff”, they often quickly run away. And are becoming grumpy, because their once promise land is now too expensive.

India is full of genuine experiences. The cities that grow in completely unplanned organic way, where the family businesses are passed on from generation to generation in an unchanged manner and where the question of esthetics & cleanliness is still secondary. First is survival. India is Authentic in the only way the place can be Authentic. It doesn’t mean it’s exactly like 100 years ago. The progress – believe or not – has reached even to the poorest villages in Orissa. The Authenticity means, that the modernization doesn’t replenish the tradition. That the modern means are getting incorporated into old customs. The TV mixes with statue of Buddha and the oven is used for making roties. All in the same noisy, smelly and chaotic manner.

But this is not what the “travellers” are looking for. Traditional in the mind of a westerner is pure, innocent and friendly. A farmer family who will share with you the little rice they have and won’t even accept any money in return (as money doesn’t matter for the traditional people), happily smiling all the time despite their house is a 40sq meters hut that has to fit them and 5 kids. And not far from this friendly family there should be a cheap shack that serves western breakfasts and beer 1$ per bottle  and where Bob Marley music hardly pulls through the thick fume.

This is a hypocrisy.

Where backpackers look for genuine experiences, they’re actually helping to kill the last living examples of it. Going to the forgotten villages in Laos, where “can you believe, they don’t even have electricity and TV at home!”, they praise how “real” it felt to be there. But hey – for those people with no TV at home YOU, dear traveller – are the destructive element. The only way to preserve the genuine culture of villages is to preserve them from being exposed to the modern world and – often – simply conserving their poverty. And the only way to stay satisfied within the poverty – is not to know the world beyond and – especially – live beyond the “money driven economy”.

Think of it. Those sweet “minority villagers”. How they perceive you  – and yours alike – visiting their village. You’re coming from another continent (which for people who visit the nearest town maybe once a year is like coming from another planet). You have iPods, big DSLR camera and shiny waterproof jackets. You create desires. Release imagination. Those cute little kids won’t live like their parents, because YOU made them want more. And they will learn how to satisfy your desire to confront “The Genuine” while satisfying their to “get the western goodies”. They’ll get the satellite – but hide it well. They’ll get the car, but hide it well in an old-looking stable. They might even install broadband wifi, but make sure you won’t notice. Demand – supply in action!

So fooling yourself doesn’t make sense. If a place is worth being a tourist attraction, it will sooner or later get there. It’ll get spoiled by the touch of the consumerism. To some extend it simply means, you get the infrastructure you need to enjoy a relative comfort there. Some places though might get suffocating, but then – it’s usually limited to one – two main streets and attractions and there’s still enough left to explore.

What’s annoying me, is that it seems that the backpackers (oh yeah, I AM one of those), seem to have different approach for a western and non-western destinations. I never heard anybody complaining for lack of wigs in Paris and lack of old butcheries in Prague’s Old Town. But Laos, China, India is like “Hey, I came here to experience the “real shit” what a touristic crap is this?”. This is nothing else as a far echo of a cultural imperialism.

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But why am I even writing about it right now? Because I came to confront the other extreme. The Great Tourism Planning of China. And I think – this is too much even for me.

Not denying the beauty of the country (or rather – this tiny bit I got to see so far), the way the tourism is being developed here is the true Deng style.

China realized the right of demand-supply perfectly well. Too well. This communist country is really one big lesson on a wild capitalism so far.

There ain’t no single sightseeing place, which wouldn’t charge you a sumptuous fee for the pleasure of looking. And – unlike India, where the Nehru’s social state idea still lives and government has been so considerate, to impose a lower fees for Indian nationals in order to allow even the poor ones see some of national heritage (like Taj Mahal), the China says everyone is equal. Big Buddha – 120RMB ($15). Yes, tourist from Beijing come fleeing in!

They’ve realized that on the grand scale as well. The region doesn’t seem attractive enough yet? Let’s add on! Government is building a traditional village in Yuan Yang – place famous for the rice terraces near the Laos border. The village – one of the region “tourist attractions” with tickets priced at 30Y (app. $5) is a ridiculous phenomenon. All “brand new”, built in style which is not even close to anything local. The attractions include the minority residents told to wear their traditional clothes (probably resettled from somewhere else), an exposition hall – a tiny, dark museum of local artefacts and three reconstruction of a water-mill and some other utility buildings.

It’s the same big scale kind of thinking of a 5-years plans that works (so far) in the economy, just applied to cultural heritage. The same in Lijiang and Dali – where buildings designed (at least that!) in local style are mushrooming around to extend the “old towns” and hence – place for souvenir shops.

I know this post is a bit messed up, but there is no clear conclusion to it. What’s better? Leaving it to an organic growth like in India or an obsessive grand planning like in China?

I think I like Laos way the most. The just didn’t give a f*** sorry, a nod, while rocking slowly in their hammock. You want a tuk tuk? Ok, but now I have my siesta.

Mein – Ek Firangi Dost

I made chai only once. I usually drink tea black, but that one, I did Indian style: boiled with milk, spices, and loads of sugar. It was surprisingly tasty, though the flavour was slightly different than the average chai you get from your tea wallah. Let‘s just say, it was my signature chai. Strictly secret recipe, which I have never used again.
I did not make it for myself though, not even for my friends or flatmates. I made it for the electrician, who came to my house to fix several long due repairments. I also treated him with some sweets and enjoyed nice small talk, with my few Hindi words and his few English. I was trying to make friends.
It’s been a long lesson for me. After over a year of constantly making mistakes, I have finally realised – or to be more accurate – I have been pushed by my co-workers into realising, why I was failing so often to get things done. I wasn’t building relationships.
When I was trying to get a carpenter& electrician to fix someting in the house, I was told, that they don’t want to come anymore. They were scared and not interested. We were not speaking Hindi, we were demanding and we didn’t offer them anything but a glass of water. They had no interest in coming again. No friendly chat, no pleasure of sipping chai, not a small gift for him or his kids. And the job (hence the pay) was small. He would simply go where he is friends with the owner (or househelp), and could count on a nice reception.

***

There’s no revelation to the fact that India is a collectivistic culture (as per Hofstede’s dimensions). Everyone who comes here, at least a little prepared, knows it. But when it comes to applying this knowledge in the real life – it’s never that easy.

For somebody coming from the western (or particularly – Nothern Europe) culture, making friends is usually a long and intimate proces. You may have loads of acquintances, but to call somebody a ‘friend‘ – it takes shared values and interest and a long term relation during which you build mutual trust and loyalty. Fact that you see each other at parties, or are friends on Facebook, doesn’t oblige you to anything. Only when the long bonding proces is done, one gets admitance to each other’s private zone and can talk about everything and share everything. (Well, almost).

In India, the friends-making proces is almost instant. Especially with a foreigner: as he is a guest in the country, city, home

Simple comparison: In Europe, the most interaction you can expect while travelling in a train – unless you’re both really bored – is that someone will ask you to borrow the newspaper you have just finished reading. In an Indian train, be prepared to have to explain the entire story of your life – origins, reasons for being in India, relationship status, work, salary, health. And after this ritual, you will necessarily be called a friend, asked for a phone number or/and an e-mail. And they will follow up. This way, my friend has been invited for a wedding in Chandigarh by a family met randomly in the train…

One could say it‘s a wonderful thing and to some extent – it definitely is. But here comes the cultural difference. We do not like to touch anyone else but our partners or family. We are not too talkative. We enjoy our space and anonymity (to an extent). Someone overly nice, talkative and trying to touch us – is simply invading our privacy zone! He’s an invader. And if the case is between a white girl and an Indian guy – even if his intentions are the purest – she will clearly think the motifs are obvious.

Especially, since it’s not difficult to find bad examples of the same in India itself. Crooks in all the main tourist destinations, for whom we are nothing but just waling wallets.They will call you a friend and show you around just to rip you off on the hotel bill.

Or simple people from small towns, who will never be at ease with you. They crave to befriend you, but you will always feel like an E.T. or an animal in the zoo – good to stare at and perhaps touch. If it doesn’t bite. Or lovers who will use every occasion to befriend a white girl, hoping to fulfill one of their wet dreams. Or online version of them – stalkers, sending random and annoying love messages on Facebook or Couchsurfing. There’s also a group of people for whom hanging out with foreigners is simply a status symbol. A white friend is a hot way of social show off – after a cool car and a golden watch.

These are all extreme cases, but there’s a lot of reasons to be cautious about friends you make and to make sure they like you because of your personality, not your skin tone.

And therefore sometimes, when one encounters hospitality that seems too good to be true, one turns it down.. Where is the hook – you think. And many give up. They form a bad image of Indians and end up sticking only to other foreigners. For many – even if they don’t form these impressions – the friendliness & curiosity and the way some Indians would impose themselves on you is simply too much to take.

Result is often sad. Instead of befriending, both sides leave uncontent – an Indian says What a cold, ungrateful & disrespectful firangi!, while the firangi would think What a weird guy, what did he want from me?. While just a little understanding of each other’s conditioning, and all the miscommunications would be easily solveable.

***

Perhaps the biggest impact of this difference though is in a business environment. In the west, the way we do things is fairly simple. If it’s a business, it‘s business, there is no place for sentiments.

Going back to my first example – if you call a worker – be it electrician, carpenter or plumber – you are a client, so you demand. You demand him to be there at the time and day convenient to you, you demand the work to be done quick, neatly and smoothly. Once he comes, he’s nearly a ghost at your home – doing whatever he has to do, while you’re doing your own things. You may offer him a tea or coffee or cookie, but it‘s not compulsory. He comes there to do a job, for which you are paying. And the payment will be heavy most of the time, cost of human labour is the most expensive thing in Europe. He comes, fixes whatever you require him to fix, handles the bill, you hand him cash and that’s it. Over. You probably won’t see each other for a year or so.

In India, things work different way. Gas is delivered in cylinders instead of being piped. Hot water warms up in electric heaters/geysers instead of being piped. In residential areas like the one we stay in, the water needsto be pump to storage tanks, as it comes only twice a day. In brief, the maintenance that is required in the house and the number of things that can possibly break is about 10 times that of back home. So your plumber and electrician are practically your flatmates, coming every once in a while to fix one thing or the other. And in India, especially when you deal with simple people, it’s not a business relation like the one I described before. For a minor fix, these workers would get maybe 50, maybe 100Rs. In Europe, it’s five times more for just giving a look at things. That’s one of the reasons, why perks and personal relations are far more important. But its rooted deeply in the culture and translates to all sorts of business – even if your partners are educated in best American schools and own three houses and five cars. Most of the guide books on cultural differences in work culture with India would advise you:  “Never attempt to get down to business on the first meeting!”. I would add – never try to arrange things over the phone or mail. Without at least one session of sipping chai/coffee/beer together and simply talking life – nothing will ever happen.

It’s a much more human way of doing things. Way we have forgotten since the industrial revolution has happened. And its an important learning for all the western visitors. Instead of getting angry about inefficiency, get back to basics. Get back to human relations. Applying this approach will give you an edge even back in the home country. We are all human beings after all…

***

BOX: DilliNet tips

1. Relax.
If I was to give just one tip to someone struggling with cultural differences in India, that would be it. Getting angry only makes things worse, as it’s easy to hurt somebody’s pride. And that’s the worst thing you can do if you want to get anything done!
Furthermore – simply enjoy the benefits. Annoyed by ever-postponed timings? Remember it concerns also your deadlines. Just safely assume delay while planning and enjoy the laid-back time flow! Remember – here everything works out in the end!

2. Do the homework!
It might seem obvious, yet still not many people really prepare themselves for expatriation. There’s a bunch of literature about what to expect when you relocate to India. Go through it, and you may avoid some terrible faux pas. Taking a professional course might also be a good idea.

3. Don’t simplify
Human’s brain has a natural tendency to organize information to easily sortable packages. All of us simplify the world around just to easier comprehence it, but in a country so diverse as India is, it’s not always a good idea. None statement (including those in the attached article!) are ever true for all cases, communities, religions and individuals. Hence – while its good to prepare yourself for certain patterns, do not generalize and be always prepared to be surprised.

——–

Article written for the February issue of First City Delhi

The (im)possibility of underground in Delhi

Ok guys, now it’s time to bash me up! I wonder if you agree! PS. Do not say I missed out on the whole electronic scene which is quite strong here – it’s a matter of definition. For me most of these things are NOT underground, which obviously quite good.

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I remember the feeling of being completely out of place, when a hotel bellboy, complete in uniform, opened the door of my old Indica cab and greeted me with a bow. Everything around was dripping with gold and luxury, and I was in my hoodie and sneakers ready for some heavy bass party that a few independent DJ’s were supposed to drop that night in this place. I didn’t expect it to be a five-star hotel bar.

Nobody else seemed to be bothered with this crack in the entourage. A strange co-existence of reggae & dubstep, alongside a collection of wines with price tags starting at20 000Rs a bottle was completely natural.  Welcome to New Delhi nightlife.

In over two years, I haven’t discovered any place, which could be called ‘alternative’ in the European sense of this word. Perhaps Café Morrison, with its rocky ambience and live rock bands comes closest to this definition, although it would have definitely been a bit ‘passé’. Also TLR in Hauz Khas: a bohemian melting pot of creative people, (although prices are far from the level acceptable for any ‘bohemy’).  But there’s nothing here which is close to a small, shady, greasy café/pub with a bunch of geeks discussing queer architecture, smoking cheap cigarettes, sipping even cheaper beer and listening to a mix of raw electro, industrial and punk. Instead – all the potentially ‘alternative’ movements are immediately ‘tamed’. High heals and d’n’b go well together in Delhi.

Why is it so? Two or three decades ago one could blame lack of exposure, but now – with satellite television, internet and world magazines – not any more. Especially since everyone here speaks English, there is no reason for Delhi to be even a day behind London in terms of cultural trends. But it is, and not a day, but at least a decade if not more.

Some claim it’s the lack of infrastructure – places where alternative bands / DJs could experiment and expose themselves to public. It is true, but on the other hand, it’s not without reason that independent rock bands were baptised ‘garage bands’. If there were a need, venues wouldn’t have been a problem.

***

When I was 16, I was a punk. Or at least – I considered myself as one. More, The Clash type than Sex Pistols (in my negation of social norms, I neglected also the punk uniform, wearing strictly no logo/no writing clothes), but if you look at the kind of time pass (?), books I was reading and music I was listening – yes, I was a punk.  Endless nights I spent with friends roaming around town drinking cheap wine, breaking into old abandoned factories and messing up with the police, (yet somehow always avoiding serious consequences).  Our rebellion – although shallow and adolescent- was fuelled by constant inflow of music, zines, books and movies, telling us to think independently and question status quo. But for each of us, our rebellion started at home, against our parents and limitations imposed by them.

In India most of my friends stay with their parents. Not only at the age of16, but even in their 20’s or 30’s. Even if they get away for a while to study or work, most of them inevitably return home or bring their parents to live with them.  They want it. It’s the values they’ve been raised with – to stay close to the family and take care of it. And it’s beautiful; it’s something we have lost in the west by pursuing individualism. But on the other hand – this very personal need to rebel and express oneself is in the roots of any independent movements.

No wonder hence that most of the phenomena that could be referred to as underground in Delhi are actually fuelled by foreign blood. Reggae Rajahs key persona is Iraqi, BassFoundation DJs are from the UK and the Netherlands, Stiff Kittens’ brain is British, Dualist Inquiry is educated in US, TLR is run by an Indian, but one who lived in London for a long while etc. At very last – there would be some influences from those more prone to the underground North-East, Kolkata or Bombay. (That doesn’t mean there’s no good music in India – check out HUB, the recently published anthology of electronic music in India!)

There is more important aspect blocking the rise of underground.  The question of social status.  Punk and most of its later incarnations are essentially working class movements. In India – the working class is not given the opportunity to participate in global culture. They don’t have the means to express themselves. It’s reserved for the highest social strata, the SEC A+, and even if castes have been abolished long back, the fear of doing things inappropriate is overwhelming for many ‘upper class’ people. On the other hand, there is a ‘glass ceiling’ for the lower classes, that doesn’t allow them to do many things. So those who have need to rebel – can’t, or their rebel remains hidden from us. Perhaps there are desi equivalents of ‘punk’, but they are not structured yet into a movement which would be prevalent in a domain. And those who can – don’t need to, so even if they are fascinated with and using the forms of expression characteristic for the ‘western underground’, it’s just the form that remains.

Results? The club where you go out, has to reflect your status, that’s why they are all so posh and plush and glittery.  A small greasy place wouldn’t do. It’s sometimes cool to go to dhaba once in a while, but it’s more like in Pulp’s song Common People. ‘You want to live like common people (…but) when you’re laid in bed at night watching roaches climb the wall /if you called your dad he could stop it all’.
When I told my friend running a lounge in here, that the trendiest clubs back home are all basement, raw post industrial establishments, with old worn out second hand furniture, he looked at me astounded and asked “So why do people go there?”

Similarly I can’t imagine a boy from a respected family becoming a bartender in a club, even as a part time student job, while in Europe, it’s the ‘cool bartenders’, often from the best universities, who are creating the atmosphere of best places.  Can you imagine coming down alone to a bar and having a chat about life with a bartender in Delhi?

But both things are changing rapidly. I’ve met a DJ recently who grew up in Khirki village to become a resident in a popular nightclub. His music taste is still fairly adolescent and mainstream, but it means that the aspirations of the lower middle class are changing and it might be a beginning of a revolution! At the same time, more and more ‘upper class’ Indians are becoming increasingly comfortable with breaking out of their ‘bubble’ and are also seeking for new experiences, finding it both in the world outside as in their own tradition.

It’s all boiling in the villages: Hauz Khas (Delhi’s own tiny Soho, like my visiting friend referred to it), ShahpurJat, Khirki… These are the melting pots, where the posh is mixing with the common and the ethnic with modern/western. Like Purple Jungle’s accessories – desi inspirations transformed via pop art lenses of a firangi. There’s still scope for more of this in music. Like Bant Singh Project – fusion of village protest song with electronic music. India needs its Diplo or maybe Malcolm Maclaren to dig out this hidden energy, help it grow and structure and then show it to the world.  Perhaps the revolution that can start here would change not only India, but the whole world?

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Article written for the First City Delhi, January 2011

Maggi and Pierogi

I remember this scene as though it happened today. We have just left a good Mediterranean restaurant where we’d been invited for lunch. Me – heavenly pleased to have a continental meal as it should be – am heading to the car with a big smile printed on my face. I take my seat, while my friend ignites the engine.

–       “We should have gone to Punjabi By Nature”, he said.

–       “Yeah”, another colleague seconds that from the back seat.

–       “But why??” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

–       “‘Cause it was bland. And you couldn’t get messy with the food.”