A rather intriguing title, won’t you agree? Well without going round about, I would like to explain that in Japan, the art of eating almost every kind of food from cereals to vegetables and meat, even roti and dosa if they are cooked there, has to be mastered through a thorough knowledge of the use of chopsticks if one is to eat in public. Or privately, the spoons provided by God are most welcome. When I was told that even their most famous restaurants would provide you only with the option of chopstick or fingers if ever you were unfortunate enough not to know how to coerce food in between the sticks and then to your mouth, I thought of them to be an unsecured self imposing nation. Now come on, even the cold parts of Serbia boasts of Indian food even though the menu includes only Rice and curd and then goes on to include other delicacies, I have the misfortune of not hearing earlier. I must hastily add to some observant people that these tales are not mine to tell, they had been told to me by two foodies of my family who happened to be stuck in the above two countries separately in different time frames.
And then when I recently moved on to a metropolitan city to stay for good, I realized that it is tradition that all the people strive very hard to keep about them, even if it means to force the visitors to your humble abode to do some things very uncharacteristic of them, them being the visitors of course. In a country that has accepted all the varying kinds of traditions from across the globe to be embedded in their daily lives, I found this forcing or coercing a trifle disconcerting. I was ready to spread my wings and fly high in the sky with rebellion written all over me just to show them I am an individual who has lived life the way I have been taught and then learned through experiences and I am NOT a child to be molded in any other fashion, now of all times.
Immediately it was explained to me, “Sweetheart, it is the climatic and geographical differences that has led us to live the life we lead, the traditions we follow and that we insist you to catch up with. It is imperative that you must have rice all the year round at all the meals excepting a few. It is also essential that you forget vegetables are meant to be consumed in large quantities, since vegetables do not grow here sufficiently and have to be imported; they are equivalent to the cost of gold. And it is also very much needed that you put a bindi, bangles, earrings and a necklace at all times to distinguish you as a Hindu lady. This has been the way we have been protecting or risking our weaker sex for decades in case of religion feuds. You may insist on wearing western outfit, but do remember the outfit will only attract negative attention. And certainly you must wake up at the crack of the dawn and must complete your morning ablutions before the sun wakes up as the first sun rays have the most positive effect on a fully wide awake person. You may be interested to learn our language, it will help you in dealing with the local people, including the bus conductors, taxi walas, autorickshaw walas, electrician, plumber, carpenter to mention a few.”
I was not ready to listen to reason, as some of you must have guessed already. I reasoned they may well think for my good, but I am an independent adult female who has the fame for being quite formidable in her own right. I went about the city learning the numbers upto 10 in the new language and wearing modest clothes or so I believe, Indian as well as western with only one or two accessories to claim me a piteous Hindu lady.
Oh! The merriment of this was to be granted to the people who heard one or two of my rather infamous stories. You may enjoy few as well.
After a late dinner one night of spiced vegetables and naan, I had a huge ache in my stomach and the wish to retch horribly. My sister insisted we go to some place where I can be taken care of in case I needed someone instead of both of us returning to our respective hostels. So we landed on the door of a friend’s house. Early next morning I had to leave in haste as I had nothing with me to sustain the day. I went to the main bus stand of the city for the first time, waited for half an hour, and then found the appropriate bus to reach my place mentioning a landmark near my place to the bus driver before getting aboard. I was feeling quite elated over the fact that even when sleepy I can find my way through the big city. While paying the fare I didn’t have the exact denomination of money and the conductor didn’t have the money he needed to give me back. Instead he scribbled the amount on the back of the ticket and went off. As the journey progressed I was aware of the different route the bus was taking and was suddenly afraid that I have got up in a wrong bus after all. After few minutes I asked the bus conductor for my money. He actually raised his voice above the hum of the bus and told me a lot of stuff in his language. I looked about the people around me in case someone would rescue me after all. In the meantime the bus conductor had moved on to a distant and crowded section of the bus. When finally people started getting down I knew this had to be where I must get down too even though I didn’t recognize the place. I asked the bus conductor again for the money and this time I had seen him jangling a few coins in his pocket and he obstinately asked me to get down of the bus in again a loud voice, and told the driver to move on. I had to jump off the bus without the money. Alas! The fool I was to think I’ll manage to give him a tongue lashing of my own. Its ok dear, you might well manage.
I thought so and spiritedly went about a temple another morning. For half an hour I was left searching where to keep my shoes before entering. Then I learnt I had to pick a coir bag from a stand, put my shoes in it, and hand it over to a man who would hand me a token back. Ok. I have time to spend. It’s ok. Then when the other devotees saw me without a bindi in the temple, one of them pointedly asked me if I was a hindu, if not you may leave please, he told. I told him I was and he pressed a plate of haldi in my hand insisting I put a big patch on my forehead. I thanked god he didn’t have sindoor with him.
Now thoroughly browbeaten, I asked one of my friends to fix me an autorickshaw to reach my sister’s place one weekend. The driver asked for extra money on meter as the place was outside the main city. Then we told him I would get down at a place where he can get passengers for the back journey. This place I had heard from my sister but couldn’t place it and I just had to keep my mouth shut lest the driver knows I am ignorant about the road and take me in a circuitous way for high meter reading. But I remembered my sister had told me she walked down from this place to her house. So when the driver having reached one location asked if he might stop, I told him yes. Then I began walking searching for the elusive METRO where I should have got down. I walked on a straight road which I was told will pass through my destination. Having walked about 3 km, I was beginning to despair but could spot the building concerned about another half km away. I walked on determined. My sister seeing my haggard face was alarmed and asked after me. I told her the situation and she laughed out loud. Yes she did. Coz, one she had not told me she walked that distance, she had boasted of it. Two I had been brought ahead by another km in the autorickshaw at the meter fare than initially agreed to. I told myself you’ll sustain dear, you have to.
And I have. By listening to my elders and peers who had only the best of intents for me in the heart. When I move out I dress accordingly. I eat rice and less spicy watery daal with little vegetable at each meal to prevent a burning stomach. And yes I have purchased a book to learn the language in 30 days. Getting up in the morning… well… I sleep through all the sounds and disturbances that can be had at such times with an open eye, but by God, I do sleep.
Well, be a roman when in Rome.
