Meeting a new culture

Some people are adrenalin junkies, some enjoy cooking, some love cleaning and others find sports the most sacred thing on life. Though I might fit into the first category as well, sometimes I think my craving must be cultures. Like travelling, this is never something I have defined as a need, I just somehow end up travelling all the time, and often to places where meeting new cultures are inevaetable . Like going to India. Coming from Norway and going to india might be maybe the safest way to know that everything you do, have been taught or is a natural part of your day is going to change. Your most basic needs, like sleeping, eating, and going to the toilet are going to be challenged.

I think one the things I have find most different from Norway is the food. Everything from when, where, how and what we eat is nothing like home. Foreign people coming to Norway are often shocked about how often we eat, and I am no exception of that. I am used to eating about every 3- 4 hour, which I have discovered is impossible here. A normal day in India will have breakfast at everything from 5 to 9, then lunch about 1pm, and dinner around 8 30pm. My stomach have been rumbling so loud sometimes, people around me have turned around and asked if I am ok. My saving is chai. This sugarbomb of tea, served in a small cup, which looks very much like a shooter and sometimes serves almost the same effect, is a big part of a the daily diet. Another part of our diet is chilli and spices, as I was warned. This has not really been a big problem though, by asking or just throwing you a quick glance they often down-spice the food to a level we can handle. Sometimes it stills feels like my lips are on fire, but drinking lassi ( sugar-yoghurt ) is a good rescue.

Where we eat various from the conditions around us, everything from restaurants to sitting on the ground in the village. We were about 60 youths out on the camp in the village, and it is a big difference coming from Norway where we have been taught from childhood to sit down properly around the table eating, to just getting your food served and then left to yourself to either stand and, or sit down on the ground somewhere. The first day it was quite a few confused Norwegians running around, trying to settle somewhere, but we all adjusted well, and by the last day it felt completely natural and nice to just spot a friend somewhere and go join. Another thing our new local friends taught us is the importance of sharing. Whenever I would ask for water from someone I would get the same answer – water belongs to everyone. There would be one cup standing on top of the water-beholder, and everyone was drinking from it. By rolling the bottom lip and pouring the water into the mouth everybody can share water from either a cup or a bottle. When I tried to do this I ended up soaking wet, and with a laughing audience. Hopefully I will get it with some practice. The food is usually consumed eating with our hands, or hand is more correct. Eating with your left hand is not a proper thing to do( actually it is considered very dirty), which lead me on to the next subject ; toilets.

Paper is not believed to clean properly, therefore a bucket of water is placed next to every toilet, and in a way I not yet have learned water is splashed around in a hygienic way. I actually do believe this makes everything cleaner but I have no idea how women are able to this without getting their tights or pants wet. So we carry around toilet paper. Except from this, using a Indian bathroom is really not that bad. Off course the conditions vary, but they actually do in Norway as well. And after discovering we were standing backwards on the toilet which is not a seat, but more like a porcelain hole in the floor, Astrid and I are getting the hang of that to. And off course this is where the left hand comes in, as this is the hand used for toilets, it shall stay out of the food. Some rikshawdrivers actually refuse to accept money if it is given from the left hand.

Living in the village we spent our nights sleeping anywhere from right next to a cow on the floor, to in luxurious beds with pig pillows and warm blankets. Like everything else in India sleeping conditions various.  In the apartment we have nice beds, but for a country girl like me who more or less grew up in the forest, there are a lot of new and strange sounds. Like when the Eastside-gang of dogs and the Westside-gang of dogs decides to have their nightly fight. Or when the drivers of unknown vehicles use the horn like an orchestra on 17.may in Norway. Fortunately my good sleepingheart quickly recover and I dazzle back into sleep. I have actually gotten more sleep and had a more steady sleeping routine here than anywhere else in the last 6 months. It is strange waking up by myself in the morning, waiting for the alarm to go off. This is when I have time to listen to all the strange noises coming from the apartments under, over and next to us… And again the traffic off course, that really never seem to rest. Though Bangalore is known for its hectic traffic, I never expected anything like this. Yesterday a rikshaw driver realized we laughed when he drove like a maniac ( hysteric giggling might be a better description though). He therefore speeded up even more, and all you tough boys back home whom have given me a lot of thrills with your rear wheel driven Volvos on the snow ; you have a lot to learn.

As some of you might know I grew up spending most of my youth on a farm, both working there and spending time with my horse. As it was a home for my horse, it was my second home as well. This farm did not only have a stable, but also a barn filled with cows. I also worked on a cattle station in Australia, and feel like I have some experience in this area. But I have not seen anything like the cows in India. They walk around in the streets, they eat trash, they are used to pull wagons in this absurd traffic, they are being painted on, they are worshipped and some places, much less than in Norway off course, they are a part of the menu. (My vegetarian project is working out quite well btw)  They all seem very calm and happy and it is very clear that India has a special bond to this animal, some places it is even crucial for survival. Like the dogs they are a very natural part of the city-life as well as in the rural areas.

But more than cows and dogs, the city of Bangalore is filled with people. It is people everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. The people of India are as diverse as the country itself, but they all seem to have the same kind of energy around them. And in them. Our new friends never really seem to run out of energy, something that suits me perfectly! I feel that I have made a lot of new friends, even in such a short period. Everybody is so friendly and easy to talk to. They are interested in meeting new people, and learning about Norway and our culture. Sharing about their own culture is never really a big problem either. I think the clearest example in a typical Norwegian and an Indian have to be when we all were heading back from the camp in Hoscote this Monday. After spending 4 days with very little sleep and a lot of new impressions the Norwegians did what Norwegians usually do when they are on a bus. Sit down and put on their ipod. The Indians on the other hand all gathered as many as possible in the back of the bus, if there were no seats available around their friends they stood in the aisle. For 1 and a half hour. Singing, playing games, talking, shouting, laughing and crying because it was their last camp together. The spirit of India is loud and beautiful. And very different from Norway…

I think out of all these culture crashes, what turned out to surprise me the most was the similarities between the students I have met so far and myself. Not in the way we are brought up, or maybe not in our future life. Maybe not even our thoughts about marriage, family or god. But the sense of humor, our values, the energy, activities we like doing and what we like to talk about is definitely on the same level. Why is this such a big surprise, you may ask. I don’t know. Maybe because I was seeing all the differences? It shouldn’t have been, and in Norway this is what we call a “ lærepenge”

To sum up I want to tell a story who shows that even though we Norwegians find many things in India strange, Indians sure do find us just as weird.

Standing helping serving lunch one afternoon (!) in Hoscote,  I realize the hot burning sun have made a clear visible line on my upper arm, where my kurtha begins.. Quite pleased that this is going to turn into a tan I proudly show it off to everyone interested in the food line. Next to me one of the elderly local woman are standing observing this noisy interruption in her oh so usually peaceful day. She gives me a confused look when she sees my arm, and I try to explain it to her by pointing at the sun. This makes her even more confused, and one of the kannada-speaking chefs quickly fill her in on why my arm look like half of it was dipped in tomato sauce. As she realizes that the sun made it like that, a smile spread on her face and within few seconds she is shaking with laughter. She put her dark arm next to mine, like she want to show me how it is suppose to look, before she walks off shaking her head and laughing out loud by how these silly white chicks even get burned by something as natural as the sun.

Gårre ann a være så teit??

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