Tamil Nadu
Blijf op de hoogte en volg Ralph
27 Januari 2014 | India, Madurai
Hello sweet people!
As I wrote last time, I spent the last 2 weeks in tamil nadu. the dayspring home lay a little outside virudhunagar, next to a village called Chitur. The people here live very basic, simple and slow lives. On the roads around chitur people had spread out some type of grain, containing many many red balls. Over a period of weeks, cars, busses and bikes would be driving over these heeps and so loosening the red grains from the plant. after long, they'd take away the plants and were left with the grains. these would be thrown into the air to seperate the actual balls from all the other stuff, which, being lighter, would be carried away by the wind. Some 5 people would be doing this for days on end.
Woman work hardest here, the man mainly stand around. The lady running the blossom trust told me that when she started the orginazation, she would employ women in order to give them more chances. Nowadays, however, she's starting to employ men because they've become, or are being recognized as, second class workers. Men would come to her, sometimes in tears, because nobody would give them a job. They are known to just leave at random times during the day, to go out and drink chai and discuss politics with other fugitives. I sure saw many of them when i was in town, standing around a chai-shop, observing.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner at the home consisted of rice, rice and rice, sometimes with a stray vegetable. So whenever I was in town, I'd fill up my fat-reserves with paratha, a clear example of what I feel is very indian food. From my observations, I distinguish 2 types of meals. The first is rice, which is often served with dahl, a soup-like sauce to give some taste, or some other substance. The other kind of meal is some pancake-type product, made from wheat, potato or rice, which is used to transport some type of sauce inwards. Paratha is a prime example of the last. A wheat dough is made very flat, then folded up, and fried in oil. this is then used to scoop in gravy. and for only 12 cents per paratha and an unlimitted amount of gravy, .. nice nice, though it does bring up some nasty stomach acid at the end of the day.
The language they use here is tamil, not hindi, so one set of incomprehensible scribbles was exchanged for another. And since it's still very indian here, there is no english translation on any of the busses. Everytime I had to get my bus back I'd be confused out my mind, asking all the drivers if they'd be going to Chitur. There were numbers on the busses, but they never consistently corresponded with their destination and so only added to the stress. Many school kids used the Chiturbus to go back home, all in uniforms and the girls all draped with juwels - i hardly ever saw one without big, golden (-looking) earings. On the bus too (as in the train) the doors remain open for anybody to jump in and out at will. And here too, my favorite place would be in the doorway with a good view and good head wind (that is, unless someone in front decides that the recently bought coffee isn't good enough for consumption after all). On a random day I'd again be in the doorway, witnessing the ride home in full action. If new people wanted to get in, I'd step down and be the last to get on again. At a bus stand halfway the ride we naturally stopped and, not realizing how many people were waiting to get in, I jumped off and waited for everybody to get in. They didn't all get in. It didn't fit. The bus drove away and i was left behind, defeated but only for 2 seconds. Realizing that i had no idea where i was and that i had no way of getting back without that bus, i started running until i was right beside it, looked for a place i could rest my foot on - i found this in the shape of an protruding bolt - and then jumped for the window ledge. Before i was able to get comfortable however, the driver stopped the bus. A good thing too because my forearms were already turning sour and the long road ahead didn't look inviting. The driver shouted, people got off the bus, waited, and then when the bus started to rumble again got back on. This time I conquered enough space for one foot - in the process probably denying 2 indians a place to stand. I think we occupied the bus with over a 100 people, about 10 of which were outside the premisses of what would officiall be recognized as 'The Bus'. The ride became considerably more comfortable when a few stops later 50 people got off and i found myself a place halfway the stairs. A memorable experience.
After my 2 weeks at the home I went to chennai, a big city on the east coast of india. This was to be my last destination before my flight. I saw some traditional indian music performances, got stalked by a mysterious girl that refused to explain anything and got acquainted with some dealers, but apart from that not much happened. I was looking forward to my next destination: Indonesia!!
As I wrote last time, I spent the last 2 weeks in tamil nadu. the dayspring home lay a little outside virudhunagar, next to a village called Chitur. The people here live very basic, simple and slow lives. On the roads around chitur people had spread out some type of grain, containing many many red balls. Over a period of weeks, cars, busses and bikes would be driving over these heeps and so loosening the red grains from the plant. after long, they'd take away the plants and were left with the grains. these would be thrown into the air to seperate the actual balls from all the other stuff, which, being lighter, would be carried away by the wind. Some 5 people would be doing this for days on end.
Woman work hardest here, the man mainly stand around. The lady running the blossom trust told me that when she started the orginazation, she would employ women in order to give them more chances. Nowadays, however, she's starting to employ men because they've become, or are being recognized as, second class workers. Men would come to her, sometimes in tears, because nobody would give them a job. They are known to just leave at random times during the day, to go out and drink chai and discuss politics with other fugitives. I sure saw many of them when i was in town, standing around a chai-shop, observing.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner at the home consisted of rice, rice and rice, sometimes with a stray vegetable. So whenever I was in town, I'd fill up my fat-reserves with paratha, a clear example of what I feel is very indian food. From my observations, I distinguish 2 types of meals. The first is rice, which is often served with dahl, a soup-like sauce to give some taste, or some other substance. The other kind of meal is some pancake-type product, made from wheat, potato or rice, which is used to transport some type of sauce inwards. Paratha is a prime example of the last. A wheat dough is made very flat, then folded up, and fried in oil. this is then used to scoop in gravy. and for only 12 cents per paratha and an unlimitted amount of gravy, .. nice nice, though it does bring up some nasty stomach acid at the end of the day.
The language they use here is tamil, not hindi, so one set of incomprehensible scribbles was exchanged for another. And since it's still very indian here, there is no english translation on any of the busses. Everytime I had to get my bus back I'd be confused out my mind, asking all the drivers if they'd be going to Chitur. There were numbers on the busses, but they never consistently corresponded with their destination and so only added to the stress. Many school kids used the Chiturbus to go back home, all in uniforms and the girls all draped with juwels - i hardly ever saw one without big, golden (-looking) earings. On the bus too (as in the train) the doors remain open for anybody to jump in and out at will. And here too, my favorite place would be in the doorway with a good view and good head wind (that is, unless someone in front decides that the recently bought coffee isn't good enough for consumption after all). On a random day I'd again be in the doorway, witnessing the ride home in full action. If new people wanted to get in, I'd step down and be the last to get on again. At a bus stand halfway the ride we naturally stopped and, not realizing how many people were waiting to get in, I jumped off and waited for everybody to get in. They didn't all get in. It didn't fit. The bus drove away and i was left behind, defeated but only for 2 seconds. Realizing that i had no idea where i was and that i had no way of getting back without that bus, i started running until i was right beside it, looked for a place i could rest my foot on - i found this in the shape of an protruding bolt - and then jumped for the window ledge. Before i was able to get comfortable however, the driver stopped the bus. A good thing too because my forearms were already turning sour and the long road ahead didn't look inviting. The driver shouted, people got off the bus, waited, and then when the bus started to rumble again got back on. This time I conquered enough space for one foot - in the process probably denying 2 indians a place to stand. I think we occupied the bus with over a 100 people, about 10 of which were outside the premisses of what would officiall be recognized as 'The Bus'. The ride became considerably more comfortable when a few stops later 50 people got off and i found myself a place halfway the stairs. A memorable experience.
After my 2 weeks at the home I went to chennai, a big city on the east coast of india. This was to be my last destination before my flight. I saw some traditional indian music performances, got stalked by a mysterious girl that refused to explain anything and got acquainted with some dealers, but apart from that not much happened. I was looking forward to my next destination: Indonesia!!
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Je kunt nu ook Smileys gebruiken. Via de toolbar, toetsenbord of door eerst : te typen en dan een woord bijvoorbeeld :smiley
