Wednesday 18 March 2009

Foreigner

It's taking me time to adjust being back in India after two weeks in Australia. I underestimated how different these two worlds were, and found myself having to adjust to being there and coming back quite significantly. The first thing that strikes you is the excess of choice and the amount that is consumed everywhere around you. The streets, cities, beaches and shops are all so meticulously clean and organised, which seems like a bizarre, make-believe reality after living in India. Of course another obvious (not necessarily bad) thing, is the amount of flesh on display as people walk around in next to nothing and you find yourself doing the same because it feels good. It follows that you end up paying more attention to how you look, what clothes you wear, what your hair looks like and I found myself looking in the mirror, checking myself out all the time. The relaxed attitude to drinking obviously stands out, and a beer in the afternoon becomes a habit quite comfortably, but the main thing that you notice is a huge difference of attitude to others and sense of self.

I arrived back in Delhi and again felt like a complete observer of this chaotic, dirty, confusing place. People were so pleased to see me and so open in their affection when I came on the overnight train back to Dehradun, but I found it all quite difficult to cope with. This brutally honest affection is something which demands something of you and it's something that I have only found in India. It demands you to return it and completely forgo your selfish nature and any egotistical tendencies you might have. I often find this unnerving, because my whole life has been spent preserving my personal identity and retaining that individual space regardless of other people. This morning I went for my morning walk up into the hills around where I live and sat down underneath a majestic tree as I climbed the slope back to Old Rajpur village. A little boy was walking up the hill in his school uniform, carrying his disproportionate bag of books. He must have been about six or seven years old and as he came towards me he began to stare and said "Hello". I had a little conversation with him and asked him whether he was going to school and he continued on up the hill. Every few feet he turned back to look at me, waved and said "Bye" and we continue this little game until he disappeared out of sight.

I stayed there smiling for a while, then made my way up the hill too. As I rounded the corner I saw the little boy standing frozen still on the path with two monkeys (that were both bigger than him) sitting directly in his way without showing any sign of moving. He saw me coming and looked relieved and as I walked towards him and the two butch-looking monkeys I expected them to run away. One of them disappeared into the undergrowth, but the other one stood his ground firmly bearing his teeth and looking quite scary. Despite my being a bit scared too I realised I was the adult and took the boys hand and marched him past the stubborn obstacle. He grabbed my hand tightly and we both sighed a sigh of relief as we made our way together to the street.