I’m an Englishman………Get me out of here!! Strange way of starting a blog entry isn’t it? Not too mention being a reference to a despicable example of tabloid television that has now made its way into the national vocabulary to, becoming nothing more than a vulgar cliché. Sorry, I digress, why did I start this way? Well, I was being driven back to the villa last night and, as I turned into the driveway, I suddenly became very self-aware that I was staring at this chap that was walking past. Why was I staring? Because he was white, nothing other than that. He did not have pink hair, unfeasibly large man-boobs, or any other distinguishing feature other than his skin complexion. I have become so used to being stared at for my own fair skin that I have started doing it myself. I have clearly been here too long.
Two of my colleagues returned from a trip to Delhi Tuesday night and on the way back from the airport they passed a checkpoint on the road. Now, I should probably explain that it is not uncommon to see checkpoints, with a number of armed guards, on the roadside. In fact it is quite common and understandable given the volatile nature of India and its surrounding countries. When I asked what these checkpoints were for I was met with two possible explanations, one of which did not surprise me….and one that did. Apparently they sometimes do these spot-checks as a counter terrorism measure. Yep, I expected that one……..there are elections going on here and Indians seem to love nothing more that blowing up their politicians just so they have a name for their new airport. The second one was less expected, drunk drivers. Yes, they look for drunk drivers at these checkpoints as well. Odds are that, if you got caught, it would only be a question of how much, ahem, “fine” (read bribe) you would have to pay before you were on your way again, but it got me thinking though, how do you spot a drunk driver in India? My thoughts on the chaotic nature of the roads and the drivers out here are well documented on these pages so, how would you spot one? Well, the logical conclusion is this………a drunk driver in India can be isolated by the fact that he will be the only one driving at a sensible speed BETWEEN the white lines that you and I know as “lanes”.
If further proof were needed of how money greases the wheels of bureacracy out here then I shall provide it. I shall not name names, but my friends recently purchased new motorcycles so they could go cruising at weekends. I am told that the roads actually improve out of town by and large so this I can understand why this would appeal. However, in order to ride on Indian roads, like most countries you require a driving permit or licence. Unlike most other countries though the system for obtaining driving permits goes like this……first, you send one of the locals you are friendly with to go and fill out all of your forms for you and stand in each of the queues required to get the relevant part of the form stamped, great, you have just saved yourself an hour or two, then you present yourself at the local office for your test. This is easier than it sounds I am told and, once completed, you are presented with your shiny new Indian driving permit. The whole process costs a mere 600 rupees (approx £9)…….100 rupees for the actual permit itself and 500 rupees for the examiner to take the test on your behald before he politely smiles and says, “congratulations, you have passed”. What it does not cover is the cost of the world’s smallest book though, namely the Indian Highway Code……..that, if you can find one, you have to buy yourself.
Weekend comes, and we have elected to go to local fish market to get some “fresh” fish for a barbecue. You have to get up early for this place because it starts at 6am, and finishes around 10:30am, and I was told in advance that many of the hotels and restaurants come to this place to source their fish so I was looking forward to it, and expected much. I wasn’t disappointed, well, it wasn’t what I had envisaged but it was still a great experience. Certainly it was crowded, but aren’t all markets like that? It’s held in what looks like a town square, around the edge you buy the fish, and in the middle people clean and scale it for you. We picked out something called Marrel, another fish (the name of which escapes me) and some prawns from what I can only describe as an old time fishwife. I had read about them in Dickensian novels but believed they had died out long ago, but then many things you would have assumed to have been long since lost still exist in India (see Austin Ambassador cars and Royal Enfiel motorcyles – they still make both here). How did I know this fish was fresh? Well, the Marrel certainly was as it was still alive when we picked it out!!! Of course, we had to get this fish cleaned (why do it yourself when you only have to pay 100rupees and someone will do it for you?), so off we went. Two swift whacks over the head of the Marrel with her cosh and she begins to brush the scales off…..but the fish still moves. A blow to the body, another to the head, and she begins to cut off the fins…..yes, fish still moving at this point. Yet more head shots and this fish would not give up. Only after she had actually cut the head off did it finally quit, (no, I don’t know why she didn’t do this in the first place either?). I confess I found this quite brutal at times. We need to eat, and we need to eat meat/fish as that is part or our natural diet, but do we have to make our food suffer so much beforehand?
Valentines Day has been and gone a long time ago I know, but a sign on the back of the bus this morning had me thinking about the ultimate present for your loved one. I confess, I did only get my wife flowers for Valentines this year. The fact that I was nearly 6000 miles away meant it was difficult to find anything else. Believe me when I say I trawled through the various gift sites for inspiration, but with the cost of postage and difficult in ensuring that what you are buying isn’t utter crap, I felt it better to play safe (well, that is my excuse and I am sticking to it). Maybe I was wrong though because this advert could have given me another option. The strap line said “gift your loved ones – give them a health check up at Vijaya Diagnostics”. So, you can buy vouchers for these places now it seems. In the same way you would maybe buy book tokens or a red letter experience back home, you can show the one your life partner how much you care but gifting them the experience of a smear test or prostate examination (delete as applicable) for Valentines Day. Remember, nothing says “I love you” like a free, invasive medical procedure!!!
Gods honest truth, sign outside a shoe shop in Hyderabad read “Special Offer – Buy One Get One Free”…………..’nuff said!
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