Dharamsala, continued
India has contributed countless things to civilization, and in particular to the English language. Words like bungalow, yoga, and now I'm completely convinced, the "How many ____s does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" joke.
Now I've been here not even three weeks, but I have some advice for mother India:
If you want to lift yourself out of poverty, employing six people simultaneously at a mom&pop store - not even half the size of a 7-11 - is not the way to do it. Cramming six people into such a confined space, working 80 hours a week each, actually results in a paralysis of service - especially when they are your nephew, your nephew's nephew, or your barber's nephew. I'm starting to think that the forces-that-be sent me to India to convert me to capitalism.
Glad to get that off my chest.
No luck on uploading photos through facebook or blogspot. It's not my fault, I swear I'm not hiding my awful point-and-click skills from you. Any suggestions on an alternate place to upload?
It really poured buckets for the last few days - I've heard from two independent sources that Dharamsala is the second rainiest place in Asia - which is a curious distinction to me because I'd assume that also means second rainiest place in the world. India rain is a different creature than Vancouver rain. I have a shortcut from my Internet cafe to my hotel room that, in the course of two hours, was submerged in well over a foot of water. Even in the normal route, the steps were like fountains... I was mildly concerned about getting knocked over by the rush. But it's clearing up now, and I'm moving onto Rishikesh with my Brazilian friend Susanna on Friday, which leaves me just enough time to do some touristy things around Dharmasala that I didn't have time to do during HH the Dalai Lama's teachings.
Lastly - a massive part of the trip that I've given nil mention to so far - I've been reading exhorbantly (spelling?) everyday. Mostly on India - Salman Rushdie, V.S. Naipaul are probably India's best english-language writers, although too much Indian literature can get a little grating. The recommendation I must make to all of you, though (and particularly to you, Mr. Thorpe) is to read something by Douglas Coupland. Not his witty sardonic stuff... but his diamonds that cut to the heart of the human condition. I recommend in particular Hey Nostradamus! - the bittersweet memory of whose reading will forever be linked to shivering alone sadly ill in my hotel room - or Eleanor Rigby, which seems more optimistic to me and perhaps explores, without clarifying, the "mystic" distinction that Josh Z and I argued about incessantly this autumn.
Now I've been here not even three weeks, but I have some advice for mother India:
If you want to lift yourself out of poverty, employing six people simultaneously at a mom&pop store - not even half the size of a 7-11 - is not the way to do it. Cramming six people into such a confined space, working 80 hours a week each, actually results in a paralysis of service - especially when they are your nephew, your nephew's nephew, or your barber's nephew. I'm starting to think that the forces-that-be sent me to India to convert me to capitalism.
Glad to get that off my chest.
No luck on uploading photos through facebook or blogspot. It's not my fault, I swear I'm not hiding my awful point-and-click skills from you. Any suggestions on an alternate place to upload?
It really poured buckets for the last few days - I've heard from two independent sources that Dharamsala is the second rainiest place in Asia - which is a curious distinction to me because I'd assume that also means second rainiest place in the world. India rain is a different creature than Vancouver rain. I have a shortcut from my Internet cafe to my hotel room that, in the course of two hours, was submerged in well over a foot of water. Even in the normal route, the steps were like fountains... I was mildly concerned about getting knocked over by the rush. But it's clearing up now, and I'm moving onto Rishikesh with my Brazilian friend Susanna on Friday, which leaves me just enough time to do some touristy things around Dharmasala that I didn't have time to do during HH the Dalai Lama's teachings.
Lastly - a massive part of the trip that I've given nil mention to so far - I've been reading exhorbantly (spelling?) everyday. Mostly on India - Salman Rushdie, V.S. Naipaul are probably India's best english-language writers, although too much Indian literature can get a little grating. The recommendation I must make to all of you, though (and particularly to you, Mr. Thorpe) is to read something by Douglas Coupland. Not his witty sardonic stuff... but his diamonds that cut to the heart of the human condition. I recommend in particular Hey Nostradamus! - the bittersweet memory of whose reading will forever be linked to shivering alone sadly ill in my hotel room - or Eleanor Rigby, which seems more optimistic to me and perhaps explores, without clarifying, the "mystic" distinction that Josh Z and I argued about incessantly this autumn.
posted by Steve C at 7:26 AM
3 Comments:
Thorp...without an E dammit!
I'm glad to hear you're reading Rushdie and Coupland. Hey Nostradamus! is pretty sad I found, especially at the very end with the father, oh man, that really hit home for me.
Glad to hear you're doing well. Life is good right now, and I'm starting to get a glimmer as to what life was like for you that summer you laid down tennis court. Labour is hard dude, I've got a lot of respect for you.
I thought the same when I had traveled China. Here in North America, we have a shortage of workers. Not in Asia. Keep in mind that if they weren't in the store, they might be pursuing other nefarious activities, which would be more detrimental to society than lack of efficiency.
Just keep in mind, that it's their culture and that's how they do things there. Remember, you're the visitor to their country. It's all about respect man.
I've met many people who tried to assert they views on other cultures. A lot of them left in disgust or are in asylums now. Just ride the surf and go with the flow dude.
Where are the pictures?
I agree - I mean I'm here to observe and soak, not to change. My reading for the past week has been "The World is Flat," which is a popular book written in favour of globalization - so perhaps that's seeping into my mind stream. (ha - I wrote "Mind Scream" by accident the first time) It's more a manifestation of the love-hate relationship that most people I meet have with India, the same relationship that keeps them returning again and again.
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