I think I got the black lung Pop

Cough, cough. Splutter, splutter. Sniff.

Being in India has not deterred my body from developing it's biannual changing-of-the-season cold. I maintain that it has been bought on by the air conditioning. Air conditioning is a status symbol in this incredibly tropical climate and the attitude is very much if you've got it, flaunt it. The better the establishment the greater the velocity and lower the temperature of their AC.

The trains are the worst. By the end of the 5 hour train trip to Amritsar I must have resembled the abominable snowman as I gradually layered myself with every scarf and item of clothing in my bag to prevent myself dying of exposure in my thin summer shorts and t-shirt.

The concept of seeking refuge inside an AC room is so foreign to me as I am conditioned to take advantage of every day of nice weather by spending as much time outside as possible. I tried that a couple of times but I quickly realised that it is actually REALLY hot - and I wasn't even here for summer! Sadly, I think I am going to have to bid farewell to my dream of coming home as brown as a berry.

Pimp my ride

I finally worked out why there is so much hooting on the roads. Every truck and bus has "horn please" beautifully hand painted on the back. This, from what I can work out is so that they know when someone is driving up beside them. Side mirrors are not big here. They have either been knocked off by a motorbike that drove too close or are bent in to prevent them from getting hit. There is no fear of missing someone in your blindspot however, as they will very loudly declare their presence, often with a hooter that plays the motif of a popular tune.

It's all about the customisation of your vehicle here in India. Every truck and a large number of the rickshaws compete for the most intricate and colourful paintings on their chassis. The hipper rickshaw drivers even have paintings of popular icons on their mudguards. There is no branded signage on any vehicles. Nowhere will you see a truck with "Woolworths. Quality for life." branded on the side. Everything right down to the number plate is hand painted.

Talismans swing from every rearview mirror and India flags are the order of the day. The cars on the Cape Flats are given a serious run for their money. One taxi I went in even had a picture of Shiva on a clear plastic screen attached to the dashboard that flashed variations of blue and red for the entire four hour journey. I kept thinking we were being followed by the cops! My personal favourite though is the plastic wrapped sun shields. Without fail, every second vehicle's sun shields are wrapped protectively in plastic. Some cars even wrap their headrests and seats in plastic.

Matrimonials

“Son of a top-notch ultra rich Rajasthani Brahmin family of international fame having multifaceted business of reputed companies maintaining very high tastes in life, having a palatial residence in Mumbai and abroad.

He is non-manglik 1984 born/167 cms in height, handsome, smart, intelligent, social and with broad outlook towards life, convent schooling, widely travelled, wishes to hear from vivacious very beautiful girl hailing from Brahmin families well established in India/abroad. Exceptionally beautiful is the main consideration. Reply in confidence with attached Bio-Data and horoscope. Photograph a must.”

This is a matrimonial I saw in the newspaper on Sunday. Word for word. I kid you not. You may not believe me but if you take a closer look at the slightly blurred picture you will see that it is true.

Marriage is a HUGE deal over here. I would go so far as to say that you are defined by your marital status, especially if you are a woman. If you are pushing 26 and still not married eyebrows will be raised and it will be assumed that there must be A VERY GOOD REASON why you have not tied the knot. For instance, I work with an amazing and phenomenally successful women in her early thirties whose mother weekly laments that she allowed her to pursue her career because of where it has got her (unmarried in her thirties).

Matching prospects is also very important. Matrimonials take up a good twenty pages of the daily newspapers not unlike job vacancies I can’t help but think. It’s a 180 degree mind shift from the western ideal of being passionately swept off your feet by someone myterious you know sweet nothing about but somehow, it seems to work. Perhaps also because divorce is often not an option and there is no other alternative but to make it work.

Food for thought…

Amritsar and the Golden Temple

Sadly I had to bid Coreen, my partner in crime farewell but Chanda who is equally cool has taken her place. I think the two of us cause a little confusion – the Caucasian South African and the African American.

This weekend our motley crew - Chanda, Nic, myself and Ravi the Super Sikh from the US - missioned off to Amritsar and the Golden Temple. Unfortunately Laura/Lauren had to pull out at the last minute because of a bad attack of Delhi Belly. This time we travelled by train in style – second class, AC. We were in Amritsar for all of 18 hours but we managed to see some awesome sights and eat the most delicious food for which the Punjab is famous:

• The Golden Temple is the most sacred shrine in Sikhism. Sikh devotees, for whom the Temple is a symbol of freedom and spiritual independence, come to the Temple from all over the world and ritually dip themselves in the water that surrounds the building. It is inlaid with more than 750kg of gold and breathtakingly beautiful. Respectfully bowing turbans and prayers reverberating around the enclosure combine to create an indescribable air of reverence and an almost tangible positive energy. What amazed me was the sense of community. Everybody works together and everyone is welcome, no matter creed or colour. As we were standing on the edge of the water, a group of about 100 people came past us washing the marble. Everyone helps no matter how young or old they are or how much value they add. There is also a 24 hour kitchen serving a free, simple meal of ciapati and dal serviced by volunteers. The boys bravely slept at the temple whilst Chanda and I copped out and opted for the decidedly more comfortable hotel beds.

• The changing of the guards at the India-Pakistan border was incredibly entertaining. The area gets completely packed and the atmosphere is set by school kids merrily dancing to the patriotice music blared over the loudspeakers. The guards, somewhat incongruously dressed with large fans protruding from their hats and chests swelled with self importance, nightly go to acknowledge the Pakistani border guards on the no mans land between the two borders. The atmosphere turned a little political when the guy behind me starting making machine gun noises!

• The Amritsar orphanage houses many of those orphaned in the 1984 attack on the Golden Temple. Ravi raises funds online for them so we had an opportunity to go and visit them. It was a completely humbling experience. We arrived in the evening in time for their prayers and were invited to join them. I think we were more of a disruptive influence then anything as for most of them we were probably the first foreigners they had met. Nic gained instant favour with the cricket bats he had bought along as gifts. We also arrived laden with an enormous crate of bananas which we handed out with their dinner. The funniest part for me was trying to take a group photo. Every attempt was foiled as the kids repeatedly launched themselves up right in front of the camera just before the photo was taken. Some of the kids were even lifting up their friends by the pants (resembling a rugby line out) to ensure they were the primary focus of the picture. I also received my first marriage proposal! One little kid started with the question and then before long about ten kids had joined in. Although incredibly flatter, I suspect they didn't really know what they were saying.