It's been weeks since I've been here on blog and the intensity of new sensations has barely diminished. I'll describe them one by one as best I can.
SOUND - horns - horns - horns the rule of the road here is boldly printed on the back of every bus and truck HORN PLEASE and every bus, truck, car, motorcycle, autorickshaw, bicycle... uses their own with great abandon. Perhaps there's a symphony that could be written using the horn varieties -- all I can say is it's loud. Apparently it's also a little useless. Like the boy who cried wolf, too much noise and the importance of each is gone. The only moving things that don't beep are pedestrians, push carts and bullock carts!!
But the horns are directly related to the driving style. The #1 vehicle is the scooter or motorcycle, with cars being third behind autoricks. The roads are poorly paved, big holes, incomplete construction - and did I say narrow? 2.5 lanes narrow is common. Add to that mix speed bumps every few minutes throughout Maharashtra anyway, which cause mini backups. NOW add speed and fearlessness.... Yesterday the bus we were behind was passing a tanker truck with flammables in it, our driver felt he had to pass the bus at that moment (so we are now in the far right lane) and in front of us is a sand truck passing an autorick, passing a pedestrian pushing a hand cart.
With that image in mind add the horns all blaring and beeping at once, add speed, the different acceleration powers of each vehicle, an amazingly accurate sense of the dimensions of each vehicle, and on top of all that add grim competitive determination.... SO the tanker truck moved left and couldn't get up speed, the bus started passing it with about 1 ft to spare between them, our driver accelerated as much as he could to get out from behind the end of the passing bus - and now we see the push cart man trying to hold a position on the road surface, while the autorick is accelerating to pass it with inches to spare and the sand truck maneuvering too.... All horns are blaring. Our car got in front of the fender of the bus and blasts between the bus and the sand truck and I know there might have been 6 inches between us because I was looking out the side window. We made it, but I noticed the driver looking in his rear view mirror - I assumed to see the crash behind him. By the time I turned around, the rear window was filled only with the sight of the bus right on our tail. I have no idea what happened to the push cart man...... In the two hour drive that was only about one minute of excitement.....all the driving is like that.
Here's another vignette. In Pune there appears to be no helmet rule so it's unusual to see a helmet - and they are only on drivers. So imagine this scene..... Full traffic moment, which means about 10 cycles headed toward me on 1.5 lanes all jockeying to be first.... Now I see one helmet and I'm thinking how unusual that is, when I notice it has a child's head photo attached to the top, which seemed strange until I saw that is was in fact the head of a ~5 yo who was standing on the seat behind his father holding on to his shoulders. It is beyond wondering how that is considered normal. I am still aghast, appalled, astonished, benumbed.... and helpless to change anything except my own reaction.
SIGHT - color, color, color. Such brilliant colors and combinations all flowing and graceful. Even the very poor women wear brightly colored saris, which gives poverty a touch of beauty and style. The saris are everywhere from the most fashionable to the construction worker carrying a sand in a basket on her head and throwing it into the cement mixer and wearing a patterned sari with orange and blue. It turns my head to see so much color. I love it. Magenta and lime green with mustard designs..... Fuschia with blue and gold..... Black, yellow and orange...... Lots of sparkle......The sari shoulder drape flows in the breeze as do the shawls worn backwards over a kurti. Always a sense of movement and color. A swirl. A cacophony of brilliance among the women. Men are not the brightly plumed, they recede into dark or white.
The colors too of the produce stalls where everything is always beautifully stacked in collections of colorful fruits and vegetables and nuts..... Even beside the dirtiest, busiest road the fruit stands are full of brilliance. Lemons and limes are often fitted into long thin mesh bags and strung in loops above the entrance in gracious hospitality.
Of course next to the sparkle of color is the grim of never ending dirt. Sweeping is a perpetual preoccupation inside and outside the house. The dirt films everything with a touch of red or gray or brown, depending on the soil in the area. It's a remarkable sensation to take a shower and suddenly remember what squeaky clean feels like. G O O D !!! Taking shoes off at the door makes sense!
SMELL & TASTE - dust, exhaust, and spices!! Oh yes the herbs and spices! And the chilis! Going to dinner is luscious. No food is presented plain, everything has been tended with careful choices of flavors and mouth sensations. Back home the food is often presented for it's own flavor and texture. Here the food is a vehicle for the seasonings - and the chilis! I like both styles and I really like the mouth sensations of the seasoning - and the chilis! In Maharashtra the sauces are nut based. In Kerala they are coconut based. In Punjab they are tomato based. And the chilis! Beer tastes good - with the chilis!
Smells outside the kitchen are often not that great, but are equally pungent and pervasive - perhaps I'll leave it at that!
But I could mention the temples and the clouds of incense sending prayers up and out to the heavens. I am not a fan of sandalwood incense, but I am a small child crying in the wilderness of passionate lovers of sandalwood incense. I like the image of connecting earth to Heaven with smoke clouds, but I would prefer a more delicate smell. I do love the iconic temple images being decked out in fresh flowers every day or with piles of flowers from each offering and doused with the juice of fresh coconuts. I'm not used to seeing flowers and food used with such abandon and I like it - even though I couldn't afford it at home.
TOUCH - silk, crepe du chin, chiffon, soft cotton, pashmina wool, and grit. It's all here - everyday, all around. Certainly the merchants are eager to sell - several things and often.... I've resisted most, but not all. I am the proud owner of some silk that I hope to have made into something lovely. We'll see!
And so there is my "sensational" story as an introduction to the wonderful sights and experiences I have yet to write about.
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