On Hippie Beach

This time it's not rich kids playing radiohead on the beach. I thought at first the beautiful sounds were Celtic Folk based on the vocal style of the singer, also playing her 12 string guitar. But she spoke something which sounded like German to the drummer. The guess seemed to be Czech or possibly German, and suddenly I'm confused about vocal styles. It's also so narrow to think about one country, I have met so many part Irish Norwegians, and Fins who live in Hungary, English Israelis and so on.

I was also treated to an explanation of how the discovery of the Higgs Boson explains what people see when using Hallucinogens. Via a serious of curious analogies missing gravity is directly linked to visions of other dimensions, with the conclusion that science would advance much faster at CERN with the use of DMT and LSD.

The pains of the street sweeper

Some jobs in India are poor. I have seen people paid low wages to carry rocks on their head, for long hours, in the hot Indian sun. Not for some hidden commercial enterprise, but for government contractors building roads. Others, the most visible, are the street sweepers; who clean the street of its rubbish coating using small brushes. The sweepers often have to bend over with short tools, and their backs appear fixed at near 90 degrees. They work among the traffic, the dust which they kick up, and the pollution. The noise of vehicle horns must be damaging enough. You won't often see a mask, a fluorescent jacket or a long handled brush. The cost of labour is far lower than any of the mechanical sweepers that remove the weekend filth from English cities. I don't know how much they earn, nor how many hours they work, but my suspicion is that these conditions would not excite. This is a fabled torment: there is no progress as waste bins are few and rarely used.

The Conservative party have often stated how health and safety legislation and workers benefits are a drag on the UK economy. Unions provide pointless teabreaks, and workers should sell their rights which are too generous. I suggest any member of the conservative party work as an Indian street sweeper for a month and consider each of the following benefits:
H&S: No illness or injury through work, protective clothing
Minimum rest breaks
Minimum pay
Maximum hours
Sick pay
Pensions

For any other group of people I would suggest an even greater pain watching these labourers at work for a month, but I fear reduced efficiency for Tories

Ayurveda

Ayurveda is the traditional system of medicine in India, or as I like to call it, bullshit. Yes ignoring the placebo effect what can wearing different types of beads (at different costs) actually do for the body. If the herbal concoctions actually worked wouldnt these just be called 'medicine'. Ok I am not a total idiot, I know that the enormous cost of clinical testing is why many cosmetics and herbal remedies do keep their paramedical status. There has to be profit to drive clinical testing, and this requires protection and a large target market. Plants are regarded as a vast library of potentially useful molecules in medicine, so perhaps a herbal remedy could have some otherwise unrealised benefit, but then again it might also silently damage your kidneys. What guarantee do you have of the quality of a herbal remedy, and who makes it in their back room. Ok this is just pent up anger, the Indian tiger will be practically extinct in the wild within a few years and another traditional system of medicine (Chinese) is just one of the causes. Or perhaps this is redirected anger from Homeopathy, but I (or others that I restate) have finally solved this problem!

It's simple, we do nothing. A wonderful theory called survival of the fittest will take care of those who place their faith in homeopathy

I'm known in these parts

I sometimes fear I am slightly on the eccentric side, why else would so many people recognise Mr Josh some 2 or 3 months later. The laundry worker in Hyderabad, the hotel owner and my restaurant haunt in Krishnagiri. The hotel owner didn't seem too shocked at my walking around with a plastic bottle filled with leaves... as you do. Or leaving at 7am and returning 3 hours later completely covered in thick powdery dirt, why would that be memorable!

Union Demands

Theres been another 'all india strike', albeit with low participation (various unions have each wrangled their own deal). This time the demands, which seem unreasonable to many Indians, are not that unreasonable. They are primarily calling for a minimum wage and social security, mainly driven by the failure of wages to keep pace with high inflation, and even steeper hikes in food and fuel. The general unions (communist) are also possibly scared by the moves of the Indian government to open up the until now protected Indian economy to competition. It will be brutal, and the supermarkets could potentially render vast numbers of 'small business owners' redundant. So quoted because half of all Indians questioned will give their profession as businessman... really its sitting idle/ sleeping hoping to sell some goods at some point.

The demanded wage is Rs10,000 per month. This is roughly GBP 120 per month, and not an unreasonable since adjusted for present purchasing power (estimate 10 fold, though it varies, for petrol or vegetable oil the factor is only 2) it is not far off the minimum wage for full time work in the UK. The problem is this is a vast step from the present low wages (published) of 4000 rural or 6000 urban for basic shop keeper work.

India has a shortage of employment, and without a minimum wage competitive pressure is strongly downwards on all non-unionised staff. I'm not an economist and I can see this threatening one of Indias assets, that you can find someone willing to work for $1 per day. But this wage 'shurely' can't exist in any stable solution

Forever alone

India and China have one problem in common: infanticide or selective abortion of girl babies leading to a significant gender imbalance in poor areas. In India I have read that in the worst affected regions this has reached 800 girls to 1000 boys if selected by birth year. As recently reported by the BBC, China has a surplus of some 20 million men below the age of 30. In India at least, wealth is a factor, and without this rights to marriage would be somewhat limited (no option of marrying below). I'm trying to imagine the life of a man who knows there is a fair chance he will never marry, and in a conservative society this means never have a partner. Whilst I must have seen a happy life in poverty, it has never been pictured alone...

In the Chinese government's demonising of single women, I see fear...

Local people

Kundarapalli is a small town near Krishnagiri, it is a bit local. Three of the customers at the chai stall had with them a small goat on a leash, as you do.

South India

Back in Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh. I no longer feel like such an idiot. My auto driver pulled up next to another auto driver to have a natter... and then I realised he was talking in English. Signs are in English, I haven't been asked if I speak Hindi once. Though I had just about learned to count in Hindi, I'm guessing I will lose that now.

Someone in MP asked if I knew enough Hindi to get by, I said "Yes, Pani, Namak, Chaawal"

(Water, Salt, Rice)
Though actually the list of essentials in India should read: water, salt, rice, antibiotics

A bit rural

Another town where they haven't seen another tourist in a while, you get crowds wanting to talk to you. I can't walk along the street without waving people off otherwise progress is dreadfully slow. The gesture for 'come closer' unfortunately appears ambiguous to me which doesn't help! Each time another awkward conversation, where none of us speaks a word of the other sides language. I could probably start to learn Hindi quite quickly, if I had some texts to work with. As it is I've just the back page of my guidebook. Still 'bhaago' (get lost, or run) seemed to have the desired effect on the more pesky children.

As a strange effect of the Indian currency, my counting goes as follows (approximate english spellings): das (ten), biis (twenty), tiis (thirty), chaaliis (fourty), ... A confusing misunderstanding delayed my purchase of a papaya. The local shouting two-seventy in fact meant twenty seven. I learn that the hindi for 100 is 'so' my guidebook has 'sau'. 'do so sattar' is 270...

Word about 'the english' spreads quite quickly. By the time I have walked back to the hotel, after buying my papaya at the other end of the town, the room boys already seem to know that I will want a knife and a plate, well on side due to my generous tips!

I need to head south where I can pretend to be less of a 'why don't you speak english' idiot.

Local prices, local...

I've escaped tourist spots and its cheap. Roti for Rs3 (4p), Bananas for about Rs1.5 (2p) each, Water below MRP, soft drinks at MRP. I wouldn't object if some of these places charged me just a little bit more. Unfortunately the local bacteria delicacies have quite a low food content so I'm reduced to eating bananas.

On the other hand, I've encountered possibly the least pleasant auto driver so far (again). He tried every trick in the book, less the lack of local emporiums, between picking me up with an offer of Rs50 and demanding Rs200. Let alone his harassing a young girl walking along the road, leering as he pokes his head out of the auto. At first I thought he might know her, but her increase in speed convinced me otherwise. For some amusement I wave my middle finger aggressively behind his back, and the other passengers he briefly transported during the trip laughed. Our first stop was a slight detour via the forest office; where the english speaking officials, guest participants and facilitators in our raging non-lingual argument, suggested that Rs100 for the full trip wouldn't be so far off the mark. At the last stop the English speaking hotel assistant translated his bullshit, and I countered with prompt and far more likely replies. His '3 hours going about' was less than 40 minutes for what should have been a 15 minute job. His 'other passengers friends, not paying' countered with a list of exactly how much each paid. He demanded Rs200, to which my response was over my dead body (possibly untranslated). Eventually, after a good 10 minutes of angry argument lacking any progress, he conceded and accepted another Rs10 over the Rs100. I have never regretted giving Rs10 (13p) to someone as much as I do now. It's in his best that I don't see an auto numbered '850' until I'm in a different district.

I did however learn a few lessons. M.P auto drivers do not fear the police sufficiently. The numbers painted on the autos are outdated, better to go by the 'plates'. (Numberplates are just painted on in a variety of unreadable hands)

I don't speak the language

I don't even know what the local language is. None of the signs are in English, and it's not widely spoken. You can tell you are getting off the beaten track when people just try to talk to you in the local language, without first at least asking if you speak Hindi.

Brief Encounters

I get off the train feeling a bit exhausted; its only an hour and fifteen delayed, it could have been worse. I make my way to the urinal, as that's a sure bet, the male and female signs are in Hindi. While doing my business I notice the guy on my left is looking quite unashamedly, so I angrily grunt to keep his eyes off. It's for personal relief there isn't much chance he will understand the words. I leave and a minute or two later I'm sprung out of my daze by words in my ear. Whispered, I can guess what they mean. Does this end? I thought a busy station in the middle of the day was safe, does he have no fear?!

Hmm: does this count as a thumbs up for my new haircut, or do I look more gay with short hair

Poverty

Prices again: There is cheaper rice available, in fact rice can be bought for Rs20 per kg in the city. In a discussion with a local food stand I learn that this is generally a lower quality rice with broken grains, and that Rs30 is a typical minimum for a good quality product as stocked by supermarkets. The vegetable prices are typically between Rs10 and Rs30 per kg, but are highly variable depending on what and when you buy. The example was potatoes, which are relatively cheap at around Rs10 per kg, but it can cost up to Rs20 during high demand. And why this obsession with what things cost? I'm constantly weighing relative incomes and buying powers here; you can't not be conscious of the difference in wealth. How many cups of tea can a days pay buy? How many litres of petrol? If the answer is greater than 3 you are wealthy.

Apparently a disliked, as is universal, Indian Minister said that something on the order of Rs35 per day was quite sufficient to live in Delhi. This figure is hated, as its allowance for accommodation, transport, electricity, gas, clothing and so on is quite small or non-existent. This fits with the Indian idea that as long as people have food to eat that is enough. Somehow that this is all the poor need, in a country with an increasing divide between the rich and poor driven by the growing middle class. And yet India is not this country, people desire more. Everyone I have talked to (biased towards English speakers) wanted a bigger shop or a bigger income. The word 'enough' is the problem. Better off Indians (more than one) quickly justified the wealth gap by saying that in the areas where poorer people live prices are lower, their income is quite sufficient for food, clothing and so on. It is 'enough' for them. It's a damning viewpoint, why can't the poor just be content with eating. The problem is, the price of Audi's and BMW's doesn't vary. Corruption seems to deflect attention from the real issue. While corruption does very well for a number of people in India, and undoubtedly holds the economy back, it is not the root cause. There is serious envy here and resentment, the corrupt government employees may just be the nearest rich persons to envy, if in part driven by the illegitimacy of their wealth.

We feed the slaves, why are they not happy.

Daily Games

As I walk along the straight road between India gate and the palaces I see a number of food sellers by the side of the road. Their stands are nothing more than cardboard boxes, with the names of snacks written on the side (in English). It's quiet, and so the momo (Tibetan dumplings?) and samosa sellers have little business.  I'm not going to touch heavily handled room temperature bacteria breeding grounds so I don't add to this as I pass. I walk by a large group of men loading a stone column, carved with the Indian three lions, onto the back of a truck; the aftermath of Republic day I suspect.

A short time later these characters reappear as the truck roars past on the road. The workmen, who are now standing all over the truck, shout and gesture as they pass. The momo sellers respond immediately, they grab the goods they can and run. A small pickup with crane rolls past, also crowned with Indian men. At their feet a pile of momo boxes... it's almost a sombre moment

People

Eventually the Russian guy asked why I was writing down things he said. And so I explained, and he laughed.

"It's cold here"

"You think its cold, In Russia it is minus 15"

"I seem to wake up ok when I drink"

"You wake up ok, in Russia we drink too much. Special events, like holidays; In Russia we have tradition of you have some events, its ok for your family drinking vokda, say some cheers."

"It feels cold"

"In Russia we have saying, 'In Siberia, people not scared of frost, they just have good clothes'"

"I worked for a mobile phone company"

"In Russia we haven't some high technology, we don't do the phones. We can do the rails, we can do the gas"

Later on I heard an American at the lodge, again. Loud complaints over the phone to a probably suffering ear about how terrible Delhi was. And that her mum needed to send her some more money... It turns out this is a woman of about 60 who is quite quite loopy. (And racist, enough so to remind me that I'm not a racist and I have to take Delhi with a shovel of salt).

The sharp young men at the lodge do the mad gesture (twirling finger at the temple) followed by the word "totally". They later on mention talking, with nobody there... oh dear

Meaningless words and phrases

Fast
Super
Superfast
Express
Non-stop
Bypass-rider
Volvo...

All of these are untruths in India. Yes I have seen a rather wishful Volvo bus, it looked distinctly like a medium sized Indian built bus with Volvo painted on the back. The construction is distinctive; usually built in a rather open shed you can see the frames being assembled as you travel about the country. I suspect the size is either limited by the shed or the strength fo the frame. The exterior of the completed bus is distinctive, where it varies between curved edges and flat panels not nearly so smoothly as a European vehicle. I'm not knocking Indian buses, these vehicles survive enormous punishments on India's roads. But where vibration and noise is concerned, its no Volvo. And if you have ever sat in a bus climbing a moderate hill at less than walking pace in a very low gear... yes the engine is often a bit lacking