When you're unwanted

I know the feeling of being unwelcome. It's the most crushing thing in the world, and this combined with an idle search has led me to consider some Indian reactions to the apparent 'No Indians' policy of Gokarna beach. At the time not much reaction is visible, the lodges make excuses and it's only afterwards that the policy is clear; "No room for Indians eh". Tripadvisor, after some internal doubt over whether this is really one word, appears to be a great source for frustrated reactions. The largest (and most welcoming to Indians) lodge on the beach has a presence on this website, simply browse the 'terrible' reviews. This lodge was the base of the Indian group which made such wonderful small talk with the Swiss ladies, as described in table seats seven. Some of the reviews pick out the apparently discriminatory policy:

"Disaster if you are Indian"
"Good for few bad for some, If you are an Indian you are not Welcome!!!"

"so arrogant they denied to serve us"

Before diving into these complaints its worth noting that the majority of the bad reviews, even among Indian tourists, are for the offensively lazy staff and poor cleanliness. As a traveller in India you generally become accustomed to quite low standards, lower than middle class Indian families would accept at least. New travellers, especially Americans, are shocked by what they find. Myself I have become tolerant of holes in rooms, dirty sheets, ants, cockroaches, snakes, rats and so on. Even Europeans are a bit shocked by this place though, which has clearly relied on it's positioning as the first hotel on the beach. As far as food goes, many high quality restaurants in South India are pure vegetarian, while restaurants serving foreigners cater to all tastes where possible. This means they include meat dishes (a kitchen which handles meat is considered dirty by some Indians), and fall foul of the saying trying to be a jack of all culinary trades. One noteworthy reviewer from the United States complained, mid list, about the cow feces on the beach. If ever when there was a welcome to India moment, it's the presence of cows.

So for tackling the experiences of the customers who picked up on the bias, what did they find. For one a complaint that they were refused a table. The excuse was that 'the Russians are coming', because the lodges can never say you are not welcome directly. The man suggests that this is because the foreigners pay a good tip and that the bias is as a result of foreigners money, and that the policy is racist. This is an interesting reaction, that because he was willing to tip he should be welcome (entitled is a loaded word). In this case he could simply be arguing that because he was as equally willing to pay he should be equally welcome. But it is in danger of supporting the view that money gives you the right to be somewhere, not that this is specifically Indian, think George Orwell on poverty in 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying'. There are doubts, as I and many other international travellers have never tipped on Gokarna beach. But the reviewer might be correct about the atmosphere at the restaurant. An Australian reviewer has also stated that customers are just seen with dollar signs above their heads, and that they felt the atmosphere unpleasant. In the end part of the story is missing, 'travelled with friends' doesn't mention the gender of the friends, but lets assume they were men.

Next a complaint which gets straight to the point, how would people feel if treated like this in their own country. Well, instead I would suggest that if I went to a restaurant that catered almost exclusively for Chinese diaspora and behaved insensibly of their cultural rules I might not be so welcome, even if nothing was said. In this case the pressure is social, and unspoken. But this complainant is smart, he uses words outside my normal vocabulary. He hits the nail on the head, why don't they just write a sign which says 'no seats for Indians' to save the time. Because you can't say it, openly. When questioned the restaurant staff 'shamelessly' state that the tables are reserved for foreigners.

Three disappointed Indian reviewers notable for their expectation of higher standards. Clearly if you've scrambled to raise yourself in the money hierarchy you don't want to be thrown back into the dirt for the sense of adventure. I'm rather used to dirt, torn mosquito nets, and unreliable power; but it was enough to drive one of these groups away entirely. Indian tourists generally want to eat North Indian food, where as the restaurants on Om Beach have only a token selection of this range, often outnumbered by Israeli dishes. I have heard tell from an Indian friend that on bus trips around Europe Indian tourists will be followed by a minivan carrying an Indian chef and supplies, now that is adventurous. Another review complaining about the cleanliness of the rooms, but including the key line about refusal of service. I have to admit it looks pretty poor to accept people renting cottages and then refuse them in your restaurant.

The booking issue is complex. An Indian group complained that their booking, made a week before, did not exist on arrival. Hotel staff said they had no contact with the group, but this isn't the full story. About the same time a European tourist had the same experience, as there is one of each review I wouldn't so far suggest denying bookings on arrival constitutes a policy. On a similar subject a reviewer has proved his fine intellect with this accusation of inconsistency. It parallels one of my favourite complaints, found on an online forum to Indian Railways, shortened to the following "The current reservation counter would not sell me an advance reservation".

"i had been calling them for the past one month that i need an advance reservation specially during the Independence Day Week holiday. they asked me to book 1 week in advance and before that they were not willing to take the reservation. just one week before when i called they informed that all rooms have been booked... This hotel's management does not know how to keep its words."

But these are only the most negative reviews, many Indian tourists rate the resort more highly. At least 3 times as many Indian tourists rate the resort at Average, generally restrained by the poor standards of cleanliness and high prices. There are some factors to put this number in perspective, the positive reviewers have arrived off season when the number of foreign tourists is very low, and they are paying higher rates. In some cases 5 times what foreigners pay mid-season further down the beach. This Hotel is known for charging higher rates, but is also justified using the duration of stay rule, see Rishikesh pricing last year. One reviewer noted that foreigners were charged lower prices on account of staying at least 1 week. Indian tourists often spend one or two nights at a Hotel, and almost always including a Sunday.

So Indian reviewers had different experiences. But at least one of the positive (if average can be considered so) reviews was for a visit in January, peak season for the beach. Those rejected have perceived this attack as racist, but is it a quick assessment of the make up of the group and their potential behaviour. Isn't every man a potential pest. I've met some quite assertive Swedish women... but not close. If I am rejected, what in my behaviour makes me unwelcome. Am I so certain I deviate from the stereotype which has led to this rule. Am I going to be pressuring Swiss girls to drink after playing Hitlers apologist.

Embracing the local culture

Travelling hippies can often be found embracing the local culture of somewhere. This weeks activity seems to be constructing Indian American Indian dream catchers, before a didgeridoo session around the fire. Chillum (an Indian pipe for smoking marijuana) is unsurprisingly popular.

Fire Hazards

Some behaviours at the night time beach fires (best between 11pm and 3am) are more welcome than others. It's all wonderful and hippy and free, so instead people vote with their bums or silent contempt. On the whole it's a nice atmosphere and a laid back way to spend the night. All the lodges have closed and this is the public social scene.

Don't join a fire and then throw an extra log you didn't buy onto the fire. Ask permission, it's polite.

Joining a fire and then making conversation in a language the hosts don't understand. The odd comment is OK, too much private conversation is a little bit rude. Making conversation in this other language across the middle of the fire is right out.

Arriving at the fire and talking too much, or not talking enough. In extremes, not talking can be at best moody, and talking too much about trivia can be taxing. How many times must a man recount the country he is from, and the duration of his stay.

You could ask permission to join the fire, but is it necessary. It seems polite, but everyone is too polite to say no. You're just obliging them to welcome you. It's clear you should be welcomed with open arms, but then who says groups of men aren't regarded with some suspicion. There is an element of sexual competition, and the atmosphere changes when single women are present. It was said in honesty by a Spanish man after the last women had left. "So, it's just guys now, I know we were all thinking it". Curiously, women who are present as part of a couple have the most stabilising effect. Their presence calms, but does not lead to that type of primitive pursuit typified by conversations spatially centered around a women.

The man whore. Each night (and most of the day) unashamedly pursuing a different woman. The close one-on-one conversations. One night eating the face of a Welsh girl, the next night engaging the young Australian ladies. The next daylight back to flirting on the beach. He isn't young enough for me to dismiss this behaviour with a smile and chuckle about guys in their early 20s. Still, if someone sucked out my entire sense of shame I might not be far off myself so I can't judge too harshly.

Sometimes people want electronic music, sometimes they don't. I would be tempted to say this is not the place to have Goa parties, but it's only a narrow majority who favour quiet conversation and real instruments (a drum for these purposes does not count as a real instrument and belongs with the electronic music). Certainly the Austrian man with the twirly fire sticks liked his music. But this preference halved the size of the fire, because what do you do, sit around being alternative without being able to converse. No you do cool things which involve twirling shiny things around and taking drugs (drugs other than cannabis).

Local people at the fire, ignoring the overly drunk men who are loud and intrusive, usually results in silence. Conversations are stilted and basic, because in the end there is little common ground with people who have not left their home country. The people who join the fires are not the most educated, the richer and mixed groups would be more likely to build their own fires and keep to themselves (but converse in English, the language of the higher classes in Bangalore). The difference softens when Indian men arrive who have lived in Europe or the USA. They are a few years closer to the social groups who frequent the fires and can engage better.

Hitting the cows. Don't hit the cows, they just want to eat your candles. Wave the stick around and they understand. On the other hand, don't get too friendly, cows love to wander in and soil the ground around you.

Stream of consciousness: telling someone else how it should be

I don't stand by what I am about to say, these thoughts came quickly.

Racism is wrong, stereotypes are wrong, collective treatment is wrong. Even if I am an apologist for the pragmatic deviations from these standards the ideal behaviour is clear. But what is racism, because I don't mean the colour of the skin, this is just a too convenient clue to the region of origin. If an Indian looking man speaks with a British accent he is British. This is about culture.

For a moment, I have a dream. I don't accept the cultures of other nations, and don't follow the general 'quaint tradition' acceptance that seems to prevail. It's damning, but I call the modern homogenisation of the culture of young people in the world progress. I return to cultural imperialism, but with a wider we. I believe in a global humanity. It shouldn't matter which country someone originates from. The idea that the culture of the young loses some of the unique elements of the parents culture in each region is not a problem. People are freer than their parents. For a second I'm not even going to give fair time to cultures which rely on arranged marriages. I don't give time to the caste system of India. These are wrong, the traditions are outdated, their smothering is progress. Forget divorce rates in the west, people are free to change their lives as they see fit and not compelled by law to live with abusive husbands. Forget vain societies manipulated by fashion and glamour and populated by self important victims of eating disorders. Temporarily ignore the ongoing struggles against sexism which occur internationally. This is relative progress. A fair person might say that cultural standards should not be imposed. Slavoj Žižek says that this imposition of the moral framework is the most violent intrusion a society could make. But for a second lets accept I, we, are right. Women should have equal rights. Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals, Trans should have equal rights. Skin colour shouldn't be the basis of the judgement of a person. Nobody should live in slavery, or effective economic slavery. Honesty and altruism are virtues.... and that it is right to hold all of these up as standards by which to measure the progress of other cultures.

It is Indian women in India protesting about the culture of rape and sexual violence. And what if I am not shy to call it as it is, this is what progress looks like.

Imagine.

Every street in India

Somehow the BBC managed to capture an image of every street in India, see the first image.
Every street in India

Table seats seven

Two girls from Switzerland, French speaking, sit down for a beer at one of the tourist lodges on Om Beach, Gokarna. It's a quiet atmosphere on the beach, and tonight the usual mix of Krishna Das and Pink Floyd has been replaced by some inoffensive ambient music with a twist of Spanish guitar. The cafe faces out over the beach to the sea, and the other white plastic tables and chairs are populated by a number of couples and pairs of foreign tourists. It isn't a well-lit cafe, but the atmosphere is not dark. The ladies have ordered their beers and a man sits down at the other end of the long table, for it has a handful of free seats. After a moment when furnished with his beer, he asks the question. The ladies are from Switzerland, and the pleasantries continue in this order. His band of four friends join them at the table, and the conversation moves onto India. They warn the girls to watch out for Indian men, the other men are not safe.
Nobody noticed it coming, but mid ambiguity over whether the girls are French, their language, or Swiss, the name of Hitler is mentioned. The girls make a shy deflection of the subject by stating that they have nothing to do with Germany. But the speaker continues in a louder tone, something about the atmosphere at the time. This isn't acknowledged by the girls. He increases the force of his delivery. "But listen to me...", "But what I'm saying is that people don't understand what it feels like at the time, they don't understand the reasons". The girls respond that Hitler killed millions of people. The man still louder, one of the friends of the original conversation starter, that these actions were just a consequence of history. That people might have suffered to cause this uprising. The girls respond that the Jews were not at fault in this and Hitler was not fully supported by the people. Switzerland wasn't involved, they only sell arms to both sides. The debate escalates to an imbalanced and conversational rule breaking battle of "Listen to me". Eventually the girls win, through a refusal to acknowledge the speaker until he becomes quiet. But as soon as they have spoken the torrent begins again. The girls don't understand, it's because of the Boston Tea Party. They don't understand because they don't know the Boston Tea Party. What happened is...
One of the men suggests that the girls should have another drink, but is strongly rebuffed. 'If you say to me drink, I don't drink'. It's the wonderful Franglish grammar which is so adorable for it's accent and minor mistakes which show the speaker has nearly mastered at least two languages. 'You can leave now, because we are going to go shower'. The men talk among themselves, drinking a little from the beers. One man picks up his chair, moves around and places it between the girls. It's time for a picture and he places his hand around the waist of one girl for the shot. It then sits on her shoulder for a while as his friend prepares to take a few more. But the fun is over, the friends have to leave, and all of the party bar the conversation starter who is sat between the girls start to make reluctant motions. They are not willing, and only one of the party is standing just outside the restaurant, looking back and imploring them to come to dinner now. The friends are gone and only the one man remains, but the ladies are still defiant, they won't drink when told.
"I want some time with you". It's met with confusion, so the same words are repeated twice more by way of explanation. But without the word 'spend' it is a naked statement. "What do you mean by some time?" The man hesistates, and stops and starts a few sentences, before the conversation slowly blurs into a lack of understanding. The man comments on the soft music in the bar, and the girls sit quietly while he drinks his beer.
The man calls out loud for the waiting staff "Please come here". The words don't soften the harsh nature of the command, and the staff who daily serve Western tourists continue their business without acknowledging him. Eventually he makes his presence known, and his friend has returned to discuss the bill. If you want some money, you take the money. He repeats this twice and holds up the notes. The bill is Rs1500, two days on the beach for a foreign tourist, but the beers the party drank were relatively expensive.
The girls disappear and he speakes to the waiter, who isn't going to handle this and seeks out the manager who is wandering around placing incense as part of evening pooja, Hindu prayer rituals.
"You have rooms"
"No good rooms, no bathroom"
"Don't worry, I don't want bathroom"
"No rooms"
"But I can get room, people checkout"
"No rooms, people staying like 1 month"
"Yar, I want also. You don't have"
"You understand me, we don't have no empty. We don't have checkout, people staying like 1, 2 months no checkout"
"How can I book"
"People just arriving"
"Then I will come here, I contact you"
"I have no possible. No rooms empty"
The girls re-emerge for a walk along the sand with the hanger on, and a last dozen photo moment. It's cooler now and returning to the lodge the last man from Bangalore breaks off to return to his friends.

Magic, a year on

It's a special moment, when the moon is hidden and the lights of the beach are turned off for the night. The dark blue sky is filled with countless stars not visible from light-polluted Europe. Looking up you can almost imagine yourself floating in space. The calm sea is the same dark blue and forms an almost invisible border with the sky. As you swim off from the shore, flashes of blue light appear in the sea in the place of stars, as if it is sky above and below. The spark-like flashes of plankton are short lived but predictable, with a dozen rushing over each arm as it disturbs the water. It's warm, and still, and you glide through space.

Ahead of the times

It appears that my perfectly rational proposal to increase the efficiency of Indian roads is being put to use in congested Delhi. With innovations like this India will truly become a global power. 118dBs of efficiency.

The horn issue as digested by a BBC hack

finally catching up to the wisdom of

My original verbal flatulence