Taj Mahal and Killing Fields
Namaste my friends!
What a culture shock that was, going from Africa to India. On Sunday 4th of February I flew in nearly 24 hours from Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, via Dubai, Emirates, to Mumbai, India. Mumbai, as you all know, was formerly known as Bombay. Despite all the horrifying stories I had heard about the city, I liked it immediately. So clean! So friendly! So safe! I know these are ridiculous things to say about Indian big cities, but that really was my first impression. Most travellers have a strong dislike of Mumbai - too big, too polluted, unfriendly people -, and avoid it if they can. However, after seven weeks in Africa, however enjoyable, I was in for a change, and I found being able to ask for directions without having to give a tip or having to worry about conmen a great relief. But did I feel like a stranger those first few days! Everybody had such pale complexions, spoke English that I didn’t understand and they wobbled their head all the time in such a way that it was neither a clear yes nor an obvious no. Another thing that was new to me was the typical question: ‘whichcountry?’ This must be the number one frequently asked question by Indians. Usually it is immediately followed by ‘whatsyourname?’. Everybody in India, no matter how uneducated or young, knows these two sentences, and you find yourself answering them at least several times daily.� What your response is, doesn’t seem to be that important; sometimes (when it was the fifthteenth time that day) I said I was Lizzy from England, and a few times I was Alice from Wonderland, and the Indians just went wobble-wobble with their head and walked off happy. The typical Indian head wobble, by the way, is very difficult. Try it: move your head up and down while moving it from left to right at the same time. See?
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