mungbean in india
 

Festive 50 Part 1: 50-41

It’s almost the end of the year, which as everyone knows is when you’re supposed to make lists.

So, in loving memory of one of my all-time heroes, the late and very-much missed John Peel, I’m going to write up my own “Festive 50” — in my case a list of 50 notable things about India — over the next few days.  Unlike Peel’s 50, these aren’t really in any particular order…

Anyway, 50-41 are Birds.

I’m a big nature-lover and one of the first things I noticed about moving to Bangalore was the local bird-life… there are quite a few species here that I’d never seen before, and some of the more common ones here are quite spectacular as well.

#50: Black Kite

A bird of prey, and surprisingly — especially for a new-comer like me — one of the most common birds you will see in most Indian cities, looking a bit like a small Eagle but easily identified by its forked tail.  Its cousin the Red Kite almost became extinct in the UK, being limited to a very small population in Wales, but in the last 10 years a conservation programme has managed to re-introduce them in Scotland and England.

You can see these absolutely everywhere, and one of the big surprises for me was that they flock together in big groups, almost like gulls do.  It’s not uncommon to see large groups circling around the roof of some place, either in search of food or a thermal air current to glide on.  The one pictured hangs around my current flat and has been building a nest at the top of a ridiculously tall and wobbly tree.  The call is notable too — very distinctive and quite haunting, and I recognised it from samples on tracks by Indian musicians.  Despite being so gregarious they’re definitely hunters, and I’ve seen a couple land on my roof only a few feet away and get stuck into eating some small mammal they had just caught.  (There’s definitely no shortage of rats here.)

(pic by krayker@flickr)

A close relative is the Brahminy Kite with its distinctive white head, and which looks a bit like a small version of the American Bald Eagle, as depicted on the seal of the president of the USA. These are almost as common as the Black Kites where I live, and I regularly see them competing with/fighting/chasing each other, as well as crows, for food and nesting places.

 

#49: Red-Whiskered Bulbul


In contrast to the kite, these guys are small and very chirpy. A pair of Red-Whiskered Bulbul regularly visit my balcony and they invariably sing away — quite melodic, and surprisingly loud for a small bird. Immediately recognisable due to their punky haircut and red cheeks, they’re related to the Nightingale and used to be kept as cage-birds in India for their singing.

 

#48: Ring-Necked Parakeet

These bright green birds have an unmistakeable loud SCREECH as they fly overhead, usually in groups of a dozen or two.  Anyone who’s ever lived in South-West London will recognise them, since there’s a sizeable feral population there.  I used to see (and hear) them regularly when walking to college through Hyde Park.

I ‘clicked’ this one (as we say here) at Amer Fort in Jaipur, but I’ve seen them everywhere I’ve travelled.  I haven’t investigated at all, but they seem to be used to by fortune-tellers who sit by the side of the road with a parakeet in a small cage…. it looks like they come out and pick cards from a pack, which are then used in the fortune telling.  I’ve seen this in Pondicherry, Mysore and Jaipur, so I’m guessing it’s common everywhere.

#47: White-cheeked Barbet

(pic by sandeepak@flickr)

There are several of these living around my flat, but I’ve found them almost impossible to photograph.  A small, chunky bird with striking green plumage, I usually see them as they whizz by in a flash of colour, zooming from one tree to another.  Usually heard rather than seen, they have a very distinctive song, starting with a slow but loud repeating “chirrup” which gets faster and seemingly louder.  Often I hear two together, which results in an interesting cross-rhythm.

 

#46: Greater Coucal

A bit of an oddity this one, big but extremely shy — I took this pic of one on my neighbour’s balcony just after sun-up.  The Greater Coucal is a member of the cuckoo family, but is bigger than a crow, and has a distinctive curved end to its tail.  Its call is a low booming whoop that has “Jungle” written all over it, and can be so loud that I’ve been woken up by them early in the morning.

#45: Purple Swamphen

I spotted this chap by a lake in Mysore, which supposedly also has crocodiles, although I didn’t see any.  Bears an obvious resemblance to a typical Moorhen that you’d find in Europe, but rather more colourful.

#44: Bee-Eater

From the same lake in Mysore.  Loads of these flitting around.  Very pretty and elegant birds.

#43: Indian Black Ibis

And the last of 3 from that same lake in Mysore.  Similar to the Ibis you would see in Europe, but very dark and with a distinctive red spot on the head.

#42: Purple Sunbird

(pic: J. M. Gard @ Wikimedia Foundation.)

Another one that’s almost impossible to photograph, mainly because it’s so small and fast.  I regularly see a pair of these knocking around on my balcony, or on the African Tulip Tree in front of the flat.  They seem to be on good terms with the Bulbuls and I often see them together.

These are really tiny creatures who feed on nectar from flowers, and as such they resemble Humming Birds.

 

#41: Drongo

(pic by yeliseev@flickr)

Another really shy bird… I’ve only recently started to spot these.  Easily identified by the very long and forked tail, Drongos flit around catching flies, with movements reminiscent of a Lark.

* * *

Moving to a country with such different flora and fauna is one of the things that makes it feel so different, even exotic. There really is proper jungle around here, and even the part of Bangalore where I live used to be a forest only 30 years ago. Trees are dramatic and colourful, and the birdsong sounds really different to anything I’ve been used to — although it’s pretty hard to hear it most of the time because of the incessant car horns. Early on Sunday morning can be magical, though…


365

It’s exactly a year since I arrived in India.

Almost impossible to believe that 12 months can fly by so quickly.


Moving On

So, after being in my current apartment for nearly 11 months, I’m going to have to move again — or “shift” in the local vernacular — partly because the landlord wanted to put the rent up, and partly because I’ve realised I need to move somewhere cheaper anyway.

The place I’m in now has been great, but it’s huge and I only use half of it. It’s also way more expensive than what I’d been budgeting for, but I was persuaded by the fact that it has 2 large balconies and a roof terrace. I was really keen to get back into gardening after a 12-year hiatus (gardens are almost impossible to find in the centre of Edinburgh), and the balconies clinched it.

When I moved here in February the flat was completely unfurnished except for a fridge and washing machine, and of course the balconies were completely empty.  I very quickly set about turning the balcony outside the kitchen door into a container garden… foraging plants locally via nocturnal walks around the neighbourhood with a pair of scissors and a carrier bag ;-) as well as making weekly visits to the Gardener’s Co-op at the Lalbagh, Bangalore’s botanic gardens, and coming home in an auto full of plants and compost.

Here’s after I’d been in the place for 2 weeks:

… and here’s a couple of weeks ago:

The climate and the seasons here have taken some getting used to, but basically it feels like I can grow anything I want to, at any time!  I guess this is one reason why Bangalore used to be known as “Garden City” before the big IT companies moved in, and rapid expansion saw large-scale road-widening at the expense of many trees.  Anyway I started growing tomatoes about 5-6 months ago and I’ve had 2 harvests so far.  One of the plants that looked like it was just about to give up has just perked up and started flowering for a second time, so it looks like I’ll have another batch before I leave as well.

The slightly wonky bamboo structure was meant to be a support for some shade netting, because there’s no shade at all in the afternoon and some of the plants didn’t like it.  I haven’t yet managed to find anywhere to buy the netting, but it seems pointless looking for any now, until I know where I’ll be moving to.  Still, I had fun for a weekend looking up lashing techniques on various Boy Scout websites and teaching myself timber hitch and clove hitch from YouTube…

And the 3-tier ceramic thing you can see is a Kambha, a composter I bought from Daily Dump, a local firm who are promoting composting as well as the understanding of waste management, which in India is a really big issue. (And more people composting their own waste is A Good Thing.)  The Kambha works really well — you add kitchen and garden waste to the pot at the top, and then swap it with the middle one after a month or so.  Rinse and repeat.  And after 3 months you get usable compost which you can transfer to the bottom pot and start again.  Making the ceramics employs local artisan potters, and the design is open source so that anyone who wants to can start up a “clone” business making and selling the composters.  It’s a pretty inspiring project.

It’s been fantastic having a garden again after such a long time and I will be sad to move on, but I’m reminded that I arrived in India with 2 suitcases and I will have to leave with the same at some point.  It feels like a reminder of the saying about arriving in the world with nothing, and leaving with nothing…

Having to shift has also meant I’ve been thinking ahead about what it will be like to leave India. I’ve been here almost a year now, and my current contract expires at the end of 2012 — although it should be possible to extend it.  My conclusion is that despite all the difficulties of living here, I will be really sad to leave when it eventually happens — life here is so vivid, intense, colourful and crazy most of the time.  Returning to cold, grey Britain doesn’t really seem very appealing right now, especially with the economic difficulties, the state of the job market, and particularly the utter shambles the current government has made while trying to reform Higher Education.

Still, who knows how things will change over the next year — as we come to the end of 2011, the world is a very different place to what it was in January.

 


Bollywood

(Sajda, from My Name is Khan. By Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, Shankar Mahadevan and Richi Sharma)

I posted recently about watching Shahrukh Khan at the cinema, and I’ve also been watching a couple of his films at home.

I rented Om Shanti Om through iTunes — how very 21st century — on the strength of the tune Jag Soona Soona Lage, which I like a lot, and which features Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, a nephew of the late, great Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, who did so much to bring Qawwali music to the attention of the west. Ultimately though I was pretty disappointed at the weak story-line, and the movie seemed much too long to me.

Tonight I just finished watching My Name is Khan, also with SRK in the eponymous role, this time as some kind of rain-man character, with aspergers syndrome… and a plot woven in and around 9/11 and particularly the direct effect it had afterwards on various communities living in the US. It has to be said that SRK is not going to give Dustin Hoffman any worries in the Oscars department, but it was interesting to watch a Bollywood feature that has serious intentions as well as the inevitable love-story.

Interesting also to see SRK — as a Muslim with a Hindu wife — using his platform as an actor to explore issues of inter-faith relations within and outside of the sub-continent. As an outsider it’s difficult for me to judge just how controversial this might have been, although I expect the movie’s reception would have varied quite a lot with geography.

Once again though, I think I much prefer the main tune to the actual film itself. I’m partly watching these movies to help me with understanding and speaking Hindi, but also to get an insight into the role of the film industry in India, which is frequently cited as being way bigger than Hollywood. To say that it’s huge is an obvious understatement, and it’s not just Bollywood… there’s also Kollywood, Tollywood and I recently heard from one of my students that Karnataka’s film industry, based in Mysore, is referred to as Sandalwood. :-)

Anyway here’s Jag Soona Soona Lage, also by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan. (Yes, the footage is being deliberately ironic, or at least historically accurate, since this part of the film is set in the 70’s. Check the side-burns.) This movie is also notable for being the Hindi debut of Bangalore’s very lovely Deepika Padukone.


One

Moong Daal is one year old today. On 2nd November last year I bought my one-way plane ticket and decided to start this blog to document the adventure I was about to embark upon.

Today also marks my first visit — at long last — to the cinema here.  A friend from the UK is staying with me just now, so we went along to the big multiplex next to college to see Ra.One, Shahrukh Khan‘s new block-buster Bollywood/SciFi crossover epic. Co-incidentally, it’s also SRK’s birthday today.

A bit of a strange film… a collision between the Matrix and Terminator, with “heavy references” (shall we say) to Tron and Mission Impossible.  And car chases, and a disaster-movie sequence. And of course, the invevitable Bollywood songs, dance routines and romantic storyline, plus a bit of comedy for good measure. About 2.5 hours’ worth in total.

Apparently it’s the most expensive Hindi film ever made, and the budget is second only to the Tamil Enthiran, currently India’s most expensive film, period. (There’s a rather gratuitous cameo by Rajnikanth in Ra.One, in which he appears as the Chitti character from Enthiran.)

Not sure if  I’d particularly recommend it, but as a snapshot of Indian culture in the postmodern world, it seems like a landmark of sorts.


Festive Season

Lanterns for sale during Diwali

So we’re reaching the peak of the Festive Season here in India, or so it seems.  It’s Diwali just now (aka Deepavali) — a national holiday.  Probably the biggest festival for Hindus, and celebrated by Sikhs and Jains as well. Buildings are festooned with rope-lights, fancy goods shops are bursting with lanterns, and street vendors are selling huge mounds of the tiny ceramic diyas (oil lamps) which are so symbolic of the festival, and which give it its name.  Meanwhile, the large shopping malls seem intent on whipping consumers up into a shopping frenzy, pushing ads at them referring to the “festive season” — not unlike the crazy Christmas rush back home.

Diwali is such a big event in the Indian diaspora that it was actually a major part of the calendar in Leicester when I lived there, and the constant sound of fireworks outside just now reminds me just what it used to be like when I lived there, although it’s significantly louder here!  Back then, due to the timing, the fireworks would also seemlessly merge with Bonfire Night — November 5th — giving the impression of some kind of on-going street warfare that lasted a week or two.

No difference here in Koramangala, where I live and work… Since about 6pm when it finally stopped raining there has been an almost continuous rat-a-tat-tat of firecrackers, punctuated by the enormous BOOM of a monster banger, and occasional rockets exploding in the sky, coming from all directions.  I went up on the roof earlier to see if I could take some pictures, but was rather wary after hearing that a work colleague had a firework thrown right at him while he was riding his scooter home, and it went off right next to his ear.  (The Indian attitude to “Health and Safety” is well-documented, and extremely lax.)

It seems like celebrations have been building for some time.  Back at the start of September we had Ganesh Chaturthi, followed by Dussehra a couple of weeks back.  At that time I was in Mysore, with the aim of going to a smaller town to chill out for a long weekend during the 1-week break we have between terms. Big mistake!  It turns out that Dussehra is the biggest event of the year in Mysore — the former Maharaja’s seat, and capital of the Kingdom of Mysore before it was subsumed by the state of Karnataka and overshadowed by Bangalore — and needless to say the place was absolutely mobbed.  Still, it was interesting to be in a different place, and I took lots of pictures.

One thing I love about all these celebrations is that there’s so much colour, vibrancy and symbolism absolutely everywhere you look, partly because religion plays such an important part in everyday life here.  Each Hindu festival has associated Pujas which involve all kinds of symbolic rituals and prayers, usually involving lots of flowers, mango or banana leaves, fruit, vegetables, coloured pastes and powders, oils and incense… all of which seems to be played out in public, and even if you don’t see the puja in action, you certainly see or hear the evidence as you walk down the street.

From the kolams on people’s doorsteps to the tell-tale marks on a car or a motorbike that show that it’s been recently blessed by a priest, or even just the tinkling of a prayer bell from a neighbour’s house, all of these signs and symbols are absolutely everywhere, and of course they seemed pretty mysterious and exotic at first.

Kolam in Mysore

pujas

(One of my neighbours blows 3 blasts on a conch, at least once a day, which seemed very symbolic and interesting at first.  Now it just seems like part of the scenery, although I still like to hear it… I presume it’s part of his daily puja routine.)

All this colour and spectacle and sunshine is addictive, or at least very welcome to those of us who come from gray, dour, rainy, Northern Europe.  From discussions with work colleagues I think we would all miss this a great deal when (or if!)  we finally return home.

Anyway, Happy Diwali!  शुभ दीपावली!   And all the best for the forthcoming year!

 


Equinox

Tomatoes and Melon

Today is the September Equinox, and back home this would be considered the start of Autumn. September makes me think of long shadows, bright but cooler days, and the evenings starting to shorten quite noticeably.  Leaves are changing colour, and there’s a melancholic feel in the air. It’s almost the start of another academic year.

Not so here in Bangalore… I think we’re coming to the end of the Monsoon. The lack of recognisable seasons is one of the things that still makes me feel a bit lost here, but I guess once I’ve been through the cycles once or twice it will start to make sense.

While August and early September were pretty wet, with a sizeable downpour most days, the last week has been mostly dry, the nights have been getting noticeably warmer again, and I’ve had to put the air conditioning on a couple of times.

Out on the balcony, my second batch of tomatoes are just coming through with lots of flowers and a few fruit already, plus a surprise melon appeared in a pot with a couple of cuttings that had perished.  I don’t remember planting it, but then I’m pretty slack at labelling anything and tend to shove seeds and seedlings into any pot I can find. I must have planted some seeds from a cantaloupe I’d eaten. I don’t have much space for things spreading out horizontally, so I’m trying to train it vertically.

I’ve also got coriander, mint and basil out there, as well as various palms, bamboos and stuff.  Several bougainvilleas I’ve grown from cuttings, and gardenias too — although they don’t seem interested in flowering yet.  This is the trickiest part of gardening here for me… I’ve no idea how plants respond to the seasons in this part of the world.  There won’t be any frost, even in December or January, and the daylight will only reduce by about an hour a day at the most.  How do they know what to do?

I leapt out of bed this morning at 6am, as I often seem to do these days (totally out of character for my previous life).  A Coucal was calling loudly right outside my window — an exotic, jungly-type sound — and I could see the sky was blue and it was going to be a warm, sunny morning.  Just after dawn is my favourite time here. It’s cool, relatively quiet before the traffic starts, and generally quite peaceful.

It also gives me time before going to work when I can potter about on the balcony a bit and water some plants, check how everything’s doing and continue my on-going battle against Mealy Bug by spraying vulnerable plants with Neem oil.  This morning I also noticed that a large plant-pot full of standing water had lots of mosquitoe larvae floating in it.  Pretty glad I spotted that.

 


#Rs32



 

(Image from World Bank.)

 

The hashtag #Rs32 is trending on Twitter in India today.  So is Planning Commission.

The reason?  The Indian Government’s Planning Commission just published a report which re-defines what it means to be poor, and in the process they magically removed a huge chunk of the population from the official figures for people living below the poverty line.  And so they’ve changed who is, and who isn’t, eligible for government subsidies due to being on the BPL (Below Poverty Line) list.

32 Rupees per day is the new limit they have just announced. According to the PC if you spend more than Rs 32 a day on Food, Health and Education then you’re above the poverty line.  And this figure is just for city-dwellers — for rural areas the figure is now Rs 25 per day.

Rs 32 is currently about US$ 0.66 / GBP 0.42, while Rs 25 is approximately US$ 0.52 / GBP 0.33 according to xe.com.  (Co-incidentally today the Rupee just hit a 2-year low against the US Dollar.)

The World Bank’s definition of poverty, meanwhile, is living on less than US$ 1.25 a day.   Not surprisingly, there’s been something of an outcry  in the media here, as well as widespread disbelief.   Adequate Food, Health and Education on almost exactly HALF of what’s widely-considered to be the absolute minimum?  And this doesn’t even consider Fuel, Transport or Housing… I regularly see families here living on the building sites where they work, and collecting firewood wherever they can in the city so that they can cook, but does the government seriously see this as the norm?

As a bit of context, here in Bangalore my 10-minute rickshaw journey to work typically costs me between Rs 30 and Rs 50, each way, depending on how kindly or ruthless the driver is, and whether I can be bothered to haggle or not.  My lunch usually costs around Rs 130 in total, although that’s in a food court in a shopping mall, and I could get a veg thali and a drink of water from a grubby café for about Rs 35.  I bought a pack of  15 paracetamol on the way home today for Rs 16.  I’ve no idea what education costs, but I pay my maid Rs 400 to cook and clean once a week and she struggles to put her 3 children through school and is always asking if I know anyone else she could also work for. (If she needs more cash I am happy to invent extra jobs that “need doing”.)

Meanwhile, things are only going to get worse. Inflation in India was running at 9.78% last month (a 13-month high), and has been over 8% for a year now, which makes it the worst among the so-called BRIC countries.  And food inflation has been even higher while I’ve been living here — rising above 10% earlier in the year (and again last month), and causing a notorious crisis over the price of onions.

On top of all that, the IMF said today that even higher commodity prices could mean another 44 million people world-wide could be pushed into poverty.

So it’s a bit of an understatement to say that this really doesn’t seem like a good time to be fudging the figures so blatantly.  From the initial response in the media and on Twitter it seems like the government will end up paying quite a price for this, and you can bet it will be way more than Rs 32.

 

 


17/9

It’s 17th September, which means it’s exactly 9 months since I came out to India. At the college where I teach, we’re just reaching the end of Term 3, and will start Term 4 in a couple of weeks.

It’s also 21 years to the day since I started my first teaching job, as a lecturer at what was then Leicester Polytechnic, later De Montfort University.

Like many people, I got into teaching by accident.  But here I am 21 years later, and still doing it… I guess this proves that I still like it!

 


Holy Days

Ganesh Chaturthi

It seems like the time for traditional festivals and celebrations here in Bangalore just now. Which is very welcome when Holy Days become Holidays…  and we had 2 days off work this week.

Wednesday was Eid-ul-Fitr, when Muslims celebrate the end of the fasting month of Ramadan.  And the next day was Ganesh Chaturthi, the Hindu festival of Lord Ganesh, son of Shiva and Parvati, who is notable for having an elephant’s head.

Today is Saturday and the Ganesh festivities seem to be continuing… I made my monthly pilgrimage into the city centre today to go the bank, and there were lots of temporary constructions by the roadside, each with curtains at the side and a cover over the top, featuring a lavish statue of Ganesh inside and a conspicuous sound-system set up with huge speakers either side of the statue.  There were also plenty of trucks driving around with Ganesh statues on the back, accompanied by young men shouting energetic chants.

Just as I write this, sitting in my flat, a similar truck is touring round the apartment block opposite… with a large crowd following it, drummers drumming, lots of cheering and whistling and fire-crackers going off — all mingling with the usual car horns, although they might be also slightly more enthusiastic than usual for a Saturday night.  I haven’t heard this much noise in the neighbourhood since India won the cricket world cup.

There are lots of banners and posters up around town wishing everyone Eid Mubarak, Happy Ganesh Chaturthi and also good wishes for Mary’s Feast — or the birthday of Mary mother of Jesus, celebrated in a few days’ time. There’s a sizeable Catholic population in Bangalore, and it seems that St Mary’s Basilica here will be celebrating mass in English, Kannada and Tamil.

In case that lot isn’t enough, it seems that local people will also be celebrating some traditional harvest-time festivals as well.  I’ve seen messages today on twitter sending greetings for Kailpodhu, a festival from nearby Kodagu (aka Coorg) which seems to involve blessing farmers’ weapons so that they’re ready for repelling wild boar.  And we received an email at work encouraging us all to wear local ethnic dress on Tuesday for Onam, the biggest festival from neighbouring state Kerala, which appears to be related to the rice harvest.  I’ve heard male students this week discussing in the corridors whether or not they will wear a Dhoti to college, but how many lecturers will turn up in one remains to be seen…

Coming from largely-secular Britain and not being religious myself, it’s very interesting to see just how enthusiastically the religious festivals are observed here.  And the other festivals are equally interesting, as they represent truly ancient unbroken traditions — something that’s very hard to come by in many parts of the world, where they inevitably get displaced by repeated conquests and invasions.

And although people here generally seem to be quite cheerful at the best of times, there’s also a noticeably positive atmosphere about the place right now. And regardless of which faith you have, or whether you have any, everyone benefits from that.  I’m starting to wonder what Diwali will be like…