India: The Sequel

India – More intense than a basket of snakes

There were many things about India that I expected. I figured that Delhi belly was a potential hazard, and despite having more inoculations than the Bubble Boy, I indeed managed to spend time heaving into what I hoped was a working sewerage system (I had no desire to pass my violent misery onto any unsuspecting sea life). I also expected to see poverty, lots of desperate people and traffic, as well as places of beauty and colour. 

Indeed, I experienced these things, but not in a way I expected. I visited the slums of Mumbai (Asia’s largest) and was both depressed and heartened in the same breath (while holding my breath). I witnessed crowded and dangerous working conditions right out of a Dickensian novel, backed onto a river that was so polluted you could walk across it (not recommended in bare feet).

Yet, within this terrible indictment on politics and compassion, it was obvious that here thrived a vibrant and inclusive community. People were operating with vigour and purpose, testament to the indomitable human spirit. I couldn’t help but be impressed. They certainly deserve better, but don’t dismantle their community.

My sense of positivity in the face of chaos, followed me from the slums to the city streets of Mumbai and Delhi. Urban metropolises that fly in the face of urban logic. Traffic lanes exist but appear to be optional, as are road rules. Vehicles slowly twist and wiggle their way forward, all the while accompanied by incessant futile beeping. Pedestrians wander idly amongst the cars seemingly oblivious to their diminutive stature compared to their steel clad foe. 

But here’s the thing. In this pedestrian and traffic cacophony, I never once witnessed aggravation or impatience. It’s busy – busier than a bevy of Japanese beaver’s. But, it was respectful and tolerant. The aggressive arrogant impatient behaviour you see on our roads does not appear to exist in India. It was a sight to behold in what I can only describe as mild-mannered mayhem. 

It is tempting to attribute this tolerant street behaviour to a Hindi trait – a religion of peace and respect. But then I went to the movies.

The movie was called Tiger Zinda Hai and starred Salmon Khan who seems to be an Indian Rambo, except that Salmon is actually handsome, whereas Sylvester Stallone looks like a bag of dirty laundry. In the film, Salmon our hero has to rescue a group of beautiful svelte Indian nurses who have been kidnapped by an evil Pakistani terrorist. During the film, and to my surprise, anytime Pakistani terrorists exploded or were shot to bits, the movie audience erupted into cheers and stamped their feet. Any scene where the Indian flag was hoisted, the crowd went delirious with even louder cheers and collective foot thumping. 

Now I knew that India and Pakistan had their differences, particularly in Kashmir, but I didn’t think the hatred ran this deep. I was interested to see if the movie experience reflected day to day Indian attitudes so I asked around (fortunately for me everyone in India speaks English). Sure enough, when prompted, Indians openly expressed to me their hatred of Pakistan (read Muslims). This explained the ever present gun clad security checks and the lack of Pakistani cricketers in the Indian Premier League (there are none). I even encountered a dismissive pfft when I suggested that the Taj Mahal was the most beautiful building in the world. It was pointed out to me that it was built by a muslim emperor for his favourite wife ( I hate having to pick a favourite), followed by a “come this way Sir and I’ll show way better real Indian architecture?”. I tell you what, the India Pakistani border despite will not end anytime soon. 

That’s the great thing about travel. Your assumptions and prejudices are confronted. I expected lung choking pollution, but instead saw fleets of cars and tuk tuks running on CNG and signs saying don’t use plastic. I expected a crowded country, yet I saw so much open space I thought the world must have ended. I expected everyone to love Gandhi but apparently he was too cosy with the British (aren’t we all). And, I expected to see a lot of cell phones. What I didn’t expect was that everyone would have one (yes including those in the slums) and that there seems to be some kind of protocol where if your phone rings you answer it – even if you are overtaking a bus, taking a meal order, checking a guest into a hotel (yeah that was us) or, get this, even if you are on the phone!

So there have it. I’ve been to India. Yep, its as rough as guts in places but every house has electricity and water. India is on the up and up, I could see it in their attitude, and urban improvements are everywhere and obvious. Of course when you get back to NZ you are overwhelmed with gratitude at what we have, which in my view makes our imperfections the more intolerable. We simply have no excuse.

Richard Alexander Bain
Self confessed slumdog millionaire