cooksinindia

cooksinindia
It's been a little while since my last blog, so I thought I'd share a bit of what's on my mind. I'm eating a plate of fried potatoes and eggs. Starting to cook more. And this gets me thinking of some of the ways my diet has changed. For starters, the Indians eat very little cheese, and certainly none of the sharp cheddars which are so nice. Coffee remains a rare bird, though I did go to a Barista this morning for a latte and muffin. Tasted pretty good, I must say. But tea is clearly the drink of choice. Of course, no beef. And whenever you have chicken or lamb, you can count on it being spiked with serious spice. But not like your Buffalo wing kind of spice. Different. Food also has a way of showing up here at the flat. Various people have keys to the place. Last night I made some steamed vegetables and a lentil-rice combination. We were thinking a little protien would be nce, but certainly not necessary. Then, when we were done, I noticed a bag in the fridge. On inspection, it revealed a bunch of little mini chicked legs and some kind of mystery meat. All of it bright orange and hot. No idea where it came from. On my way back from the coffee place I was weaving in and out of the usual video game-on-steroids type madness. People all over the road, going the wrong way, horns, buses pulling up behind me and revving the engine, auto rickshaws turned on their sides while the driver tinkers with a bum bearing, and I thought about how the rules here apply within a context I've come to think of (for lack of a better word) as organic. If there is a void...a space in the madness, you can count on someone rushing in to fill it. Kind of like blood making its way through the body. The bigger the vehicle, the more authority it weilds. But the scooters and bikes and rickshaws manage to survive by filling the gaps. I was thinking about the Germans, and their rule-oriented culture. Or, to a lesser extent, the Brits. I think the average German would suffer some serious vertigo here. And for a while, I was thinking I had the anwer to the question of why the Eglish like their gin and beer so well. Trying to keep a handle on this place (as in, the Raj) would drive just about anyone to strong drink. Mind you, it works, but in an East-West mixed up kind of way. One does best to respond to most situations in a visceral rather than logical manner. Follow one's heart. Time is this way, too.
Yesterday, at school, I got through most of the day before realizing my watch was a good fifteen minutes off. I was wandering into class late...staying past my time to leave, and no one said a thing about it. At the end of the day, my students told me it was time to leave. My watch told me there was still a good fifteen minutes of school. Twenty skinny Indian wrists shot out to reveal watches which, indeed, confirmed the time. A few patted me on the back as if to say, "You poor, dumb white guy. " But...no big deal. It's only time.
Today I plan to ride up to Connaught Place, which should take a while. I'm going to buy a video camera. Hate to spend the money, but I'm thinking I should get the bike-eye view of India while I'm here. Who knows when I'll be back? The plan is to duck tape the camera to a helmet...and turn it on while I ride around. I'm sure I'll get some looks. Later, Tom (my roomate) and I would like to put together some kind of a film highlighting the Fulbright in India experience. At this point, it's strictly in the planning stages, but the camera would seem a critical part of the plan. Next blog, I'll try to include a picture of me with the camera on my head. Cheers