Expletive deleted

At times crowds of children gather to watch cartoons on the television at the homestay. Variations of the classics are popular, including 'Power Rangers' and 'Tom and Jerry' spin offs, as are a number of Hindi cartoons. One Hindi cartoon in particular is set in a fantasy world inspired by a mixture of Hindu religion and historical India, populated by descendants of gods (blue), boys and princes (tan), and girls (white). It begins in childhood, girls, if you aren't white, you will never be popular, successful or attractive. The voice in my mind is screaming expletives from a mountain-top.

Gender balance

The Khasi proudly claim to follow matriarchal traditions, and after 'India proper' anything which empowers women is something to be proud of. The common examples given are both the insignificant use of the woman's family name and the significant allocation of property among daughters. However doubts start to appear, the notices informing people not to drop litter, wash in certain streams and so on are by order of the village headman. I check, and this is no accidental use of a gendered term. The head of the village is a man, and decisions, decisions are made by a committee of men. But the individual traditions in the society don't give the full impression, women seem freer. As in the developed parts of Nepal, they can wear t-shirts and makeup without being harassed. Men and women can interact freely, choose their partners in marriage, and the gender ratio for the state is far closer to balanced than India as a whole.

Nongriat

Nongriat doesn't have road access, and is only reachable via 2400 steps, 45 minutes for even the fittest determined walkers and several hours for some of the less able. The big question on arriving is "What about the full size fridge-freezer". This it turns out was carried down by the guest house owner's father, age 70. It no longer feels like such an accomplishment to reach the village. It's a beautiful spot, largely unspoiled forest crossed by streams, waterfalls and stone-laid jungle paths. The measure of this beauty is that foreign tourists spontaneously regain the urge to pick up the few pieces of litter on the jungle walks, a habit long forgotten in the filth of India.

A bit damp up here

I'm trying to dry my clothes in the wettest place on Earth*.

*Not the wettest place on Earth, despite the slightly rusted signs informing you of this. But at least this time the local people will tell that due to changing weather patterns the title for highest annual rainfall has been lost to somewhere in Colombia. It's not even the wettest spot in the state. Still, I have now both driven 'the highest motorable road' which isn't the highest motorable road, and visited the wettest place on Earth, which isn't, both in India.

First you must laugh

I emerge from the cave covered in dirt. I've been wriggling flat on my belly through the deepest parts of the cave, where every rock is covered with a thick layer of brown mud. It isn't simply my clothes, the top of my bald head is streaked with muddy smears, and my bags are earth decorated. As I proudly walk the 6km back to town, past the crowds of some full fifty workmen turning this impressive cave into an unimpressive tourist attraction, I get many smiles at my appearance. Apparently the future tourists wont be interested in the cave unless there is lots of concrete, with this cave featuring some special concrete forms, the concrete barriers on the path are shaped like caricature tree logs. I feel there is some doublethink involved in creating concrete structures camouflaged, and failing from the very beginning, to look like renewable natural materials. The smiles continue after I reach the main road, the air is light. As in Nepal the people here know life, they can laugh with warmth. I'm happy to play the comic travelling idiot I wouldn't have it any other way.

I hate people who want to ban everything, there should be a law against that sort of thing (anon)

We've done it for tobacco, but seeing alcohol advertisements in a country which has a problem with alcohol, it's painful. Cricket sponsored by McDowell's. TV advertisements for 'Signature' whiskey, with all the images of class and success (a man in a suit at a black tie evening with a pretty women on his arm), that Indians, and everyone, aspire to. Billboards advertising McDowell's mineral water, to reinforce the brand (I've actually seen McDowells mineral water before, it does exist). I love alcohol, and unfairly to this debate my favourite ales don't exactly rely much on promotion, but it's time.

Of course I'm curious about the implementation of the 1989 regulation for alcohol advertising courtesy of the EU. On alcohol advertising:

'it shall not create the impression that the consumption of alcohol contributes towards social or sexual success;'

A cup of tea

Visiting a bakery and cafe in Shillong I chuckle that it's styled on a chain, but is given away as a small business by clues around the edges. It's simply the contrast which tickles me, now the trendy types have come full circle to value 'Independent' shops. But by far their greatest and most damning failure was their refusal to make me a cup of milk tea. Accepting that I have offended the 'no milk' purists, I was simply looking for a nice warm drink. The bakery clearly had milk available, having a wide range of milk coffees. But this small cafe is emulating a chain, and so must be staffed by powerless drones. Tea, damn it!

Fears

Perhaps as a person I am revealed by my nightmares. One is humanity as a vast seething mass of people trying to climb over each other to create their own pile of dirt from the same shared field. That our animal instinct compares success only against others and that the shared accomplishments are purely incidental.

To all my readers in Greece

Serena, barely anything I write is worth reading. You would find so much more in 'War and Peace' than you ever will in this blog.

Essential English words

Sometimes I teach foreigners the really important words in English, such as 'cringe' and 'seedy'. It's enough to know that I consider this necessary vocabulary in my descriptions.

The exclamatory atheist

This has probably been covered to death by wittier persons than myself, but what do atheists say in a crisis. It's a thought that re-entered my mind after the full volume "Jesus Christ" I emitted after stepping a rock surrounded by a 1.5m long brown snake. The snake was startled and quickly disappeared into the jungle, and sadly I was unable to find it again for photographs. This train of thought is not original, it begins with 'South Park' and their attack on the extremist atheism of Richard Dawkins. In this parody of religion, the cry becomes "Oh my science". It's also crossed my mind when English speaking Hindus in the south have uttered 'Oh my God (singular)', though here I may be falling back to 'The Simpsons' with Apu's "Oh my various Gods". I'm aware that exclamations in shock are probably not considered, but still have my own suggestions.

For Jesus Christ, and given my recent reading, the cry 'Charles Darwin' seems like it should be appropriate. But this is hard to say with force, as is Copernicus. Iff Richard Dawkins should be martyred to the cause of science I'll accept this name is far more catchy.

'A match made in heaven'. I'm guessing a match made in heaven is so good it is deemed impossible to have occurred by chance. In that case:
'A match so good it is well outside the 6 sigma deviation for match success.'

'In the name of God will you let me pass'. Many experiments not listed in the ignobels are in some way involved with improving the world for all mankind. In this light who could refuse a request in the name of science.
'In the name of Science will you let me pass five times, and let me not pass a further five times as a control'

'God save me'. Science is a lonely place, without any magic beings to befriend you have only mankind at your side. Accepting this, when all seems lost:
'May a plausible and explicable but clearly unlikely occurrence rescue me from the impending doom, yet accepting its likelihood will not be affected by these words, further excepting the butterfly effect whereby my expelling air causes unforeseen and significant consequences disproportionaaa....'

The four ages of the universe

I recently listened to a brief description of Hindu beliefs about the cyclic nature of the universe. To give an unfair and short summary, they believe in four ages of man, with varying degrees of virtue, in a repeating cycle. To begin with life was pure, and controlled by one or other of the gods. The next two ages displayed unmemorable variations in these conditions. We are now in the last of the four ages, the age of sin, chaos and dishonesty. Sat in India, this all sounds very plausible!

And what prompts this bad taste, these are my sentiments after a taxi driver tried to overcharge me on the way to the hospital. Ok, I admit, I was looking forward to this one. I was already in my mind conducting an experiment when I asked for the hospital directly not simply it's district. (The last rickshaw to a hospital was an unpleasant man who kept trying to sign that I had been having risky sex to all the other rickshaw drivers, because that was clearly the only reason anyone would go to a hospital). I was not disappointed in my disappointment, the taxi driver tried to charge about 2.5 times the going rate. To be fair to Meghalaya and the Khasi, the taxi driver was both ethnically and culturally an immigrant from the Indian parts of India. The British amalgamated a number of distinct regions to form India... and perhaps my own idea of not cheating the sick for a dollar is something inherited from the Christian doctrine. (I'm fine)

Isn't it ironic

I never understood irony. Is it ironic to use 'the origin of species' as a fly-swatter. It's a perfect read with the wonderful diversity of life on display as you descend the mountains towards the plains of Bangladesh. It's also got a satisfying weight to it.

The British were here

The state language is English, which a handful of Khasi people can speak. The 'traditional' Khasi house would be at home as an old cottage in England. Black timber frame with whitewashed mortar paneling, and it's own well tended garden, bordered by a small fence or hedge. The square is surrounded by adverts for 'tea and lunch'. Tea is served with biscuits. Civilisation.

The wonderful rock

Each time a villages introduces me to their tourist attraction, on the order of a special rock, I can't help but think of the holy stone of Craggy Island. This rock balanced on top of a seemingly too small pillar of some other rock is certainly impressive. I'd place it about mid table in the ranking of special rocks.

Transport

It's not a truly local bus unless the entire upper body includes pews are made of wood. From inside it looks like a cross between a boat and a barn, with arched ribs over the roof and floorboards underneath the heavy wooden benches. In the back, behind the huddled well wrapped people, more than half the bus is devoted to cargo.