Travel Journals XXII: On Culture Blindness
One of the unexpected problems with travel writing is that after a while you become accustomed to the most extraordinary things. It is comparatively easy to find a topic to write about when you are on the move or something unpleasant is happening to you, but when you're staying contentedly in one place for a while, you can easily forget that there is anything out of the ordinary about it. Today i was thinking it was time to post an update here but i had nothing new to say. As i walked down the stairs to my favorite breakfast spot, i was musing over this dilemma. I found myself face to face with a train of donkeys and stepped out of the way out of habit. the most remarkable thing about this was the fact it was so entirely routine that it would have never occurred to write about this if i hadn't been thinking about my blog at that exact moment. i find myself dodging ponies and donkeys at least five times daily. this only makes sense because Upper Bhagsu, where i live, is on a slope so steep that the main road is actually an immense concrete stairway and wheeled vehicles are impossible here. Again this is a wonderful eccentricity for most places in the world, but I've lived with it long enough to take it for granted and wouldn't even have thought of saying anything about this. This got me thinking: What else am i leaving out?
I'm certain that i never wrote about the Bhagsu Cake Phenomenon. Bhagsu cake is a small simple confection comprised of a crumbled cookie crust, a thin layer of caramel and another layer of chocolate. it is about the size and shape of an average candy bar. The original Bhagsu cake is available only in a shop called Singh's corner and the adjoining restaurant. it sells for 15 rupees a piece, comes in a small golden box, and for no logical reason, has the addictive powers of heroin. People mostly eat their first piece of Bhagsu cake out of curiosity after you finish eating it, you are completely underwhelmed. you find yourself wondering what the fuss was all about. you then think about it for the rest of the day. by this point you are officially hooked. Bhagsu addiction is usually a completely harmless affliction at fifteen rupees everyone can afford to indulge in an occasional piece and it provides one with an incentive to get up the hill. the only real trouble this addiction ever causes comes on the incredibly rare instances when Mr. Signh runs out of supply. It shakes the victim's belief in the stability of the world. The poor dumbfounded sufferer staggers away from the shop, forced to make due with one of the vastly inferior imitations available in the surrounding cafes to combat withdrawal symptoms. no other desert, not even Banoffi Pie or the amazingly decadent and absurdly named Hello to The Queen has this kind of hold on people. Bhagsu cake is spoken about in exactly the same manner that smokers talk about cigarettes.
Across from Singh's Corner and slightly downhill from the Internet place i am currently sitting in is what i like to refer to as the "Atlantic City Temple" this is a recently constructed Hindu temple so magnificently garish that it looks like a cheap fairgrounds copy of itself. The temple is colored in lurid pink, yellow, lavender and red.Inside there is one entrance way where you have to walk through the mouth of what is intended to be a lion and another where you walk through the gaping maw of what after close inspection reveals itself to be a crocodile. The thought that this hideously tacky edifice is actually a serious place of religious worship never fails to make me smile.
No matter where you are in this valley, you find yourself looking out on a spectacular view. the land spreads beneath you for miles i have not yet figured out how far you can see on a clear day but I'm sure it's quite far. Dharamsala looks like a miniature model huddled against the foot of the mountain. if you face the opposite direction at exactly the right moment on a clear day, the clouds part to reveal one of the white and forbidding peaks of the Himalayas. Bhagsu is mostly located between 1700 and 2000 meters above sea level.
Dogs here are different from most of India. these animals are accustomed to tourists and therefore act like the dogs i know at home. they come to have their ears scratched and beg for tidbits from the table. they look on people with affection and trust rather than wary resentment. they behave like pets rather than scavengers and strays. they look healthy. I've missed that
Bhagsu is one of the wonderful oasis towns in India that is mostly foreign in composition. people stay here for a while and so the shopkeepers and cafe owners get to know you by name. there are several places here where i can go where the owner will come up and shake my hand as i arrive. they think nothing of running a tab for me if I'm a bit short on cash or only have large bills (they hate doing this almost as much as they hate accepting a torn bill. In Arambol once i spent an entire day trying to find someone who would take a slightly ripped 50 rupee note). the question of whether i will return and settle up never enters their mind. People trust one another here and are warm and open with one another. you feel like you are part of the community rather than just a vagrant a curiosity, and an opportunity for easy money. after a being on the road for a while, i cannot properly express how welcome a change this is. Like every tourist community, there are classes on Yoga, meditation, Reiki sitar, tabla and various other subjects. there are regular open mikes and jam sessions in the cafes. The Jam sessions in Bhagsu can be a bit of an ordeal to attend because of three or four Nepali guys. they have learned only a few djembe rhythms and one flute tune. The Nepalis refuse to ever deviate from these no matter what anyone else is playing and only play as loud as possible. after the second hour usually a group of other musicians rebel and start playing their own music. in effect there are usually two jam sessions happening within ten feet of one another. I've stopped going to jam sessions.
I have been thinking a lot recently of returning home. not necessarily seeing all the people I've missed for so long, and how good it will be to be in familiar territory (these thoughts have never been far away) but the strangeness of it. What will i find unusual about my home now that i have become so acclimated to India? will i try to haggle at the stores? (I doubt this) how will i react when a meal at a restaurant takes less than an hour to arrive and I'm not able to sit there for hours after I'm done eating? Will i remember not to smile at random people on the subway or as they pass me in the street? it will be interesting to see how the reverse culture shock works.
I'm certain that i never wrote about the Bhagsu Cake Phenomenon. Bhagsu cake is a small simple confection comprised of a crumbled cookie crust, a thin layer of caramel and another layer of chocolate. it is about the size and shape of an average candy bar. The original Bhagsu cake is available only in a shop called Singh's corner and the adjoining restaurant. it sells for 15 rupees a piece, comes in a small golden box, and for no logical reason, has the addictive powers of heroin. People mostly eat their first piece of Bhagsu cake out of curiosity after you finish eating it, you are completely underwhelmed. you find yourself wondering what the fuss was all about. you then think about it for the rest of the day. by this point you are officially hooked. Bhagsu addiction is usually a completely harmless affliction at fifteen rupees everyone can afford to indulge in an occasional piece and it provides one with an incentive to get up the hill. the only real trouble this addiction ever causes comes on the incredibly rare instances when Mr. Signh runs out of supply. It shakes the victim's belief in the stability of the world. The poor dumbfounded sufferer staggers away from the shop, forced to make due with one of the vastly inferior imitations available in the surrounding cafes to combat withdrawal symptoms. no other desert, not even Banoffi Pie or the amazingly decadent and absurdly named Hello to The Queen has this kind of hold on people. Bhagsu cake is spoken about in exactly the same manner that smokers talk about cigarettes.
Across from Singh's Corner and slightly downhill from the Internet place i am currently sitting in is what i like to refer to as the "Atlantic City Temple" this is a recently constructed Hindu temple so magnificently garish that it looks like a cheap fairgrounds copy of itself. The temple is colored in lurid pink, yellow, lavender and red.Inside there is one entrance way where you have to walk through the mouth of what is intended to be a lion and another where you walk through the gaping maw of what after close inspection reveals itself to be a crocodile. The thought that this hideously tacky edifice is actually a serious place of religious worship never fails to make me smile.
No matter where you are in this valley, you find yourself looking out on a spectacular view. the land spreads beneath you for miles i have not yet figured out how far you can see on a clear day but I'm sure it's quite far. Dharamsala looks like a miniature model huddled against the foot of the mountain. if you face the opposite direction at exactly the right moment on a clear day, the clouds part to reveal one of the white and forbidding peaks of the Himalayas. Bhagsu is mostly located between 1700 and 2000 meters above sea level.
Dogs here are different from most of India. these animals are accustomed to tourists and therefore act like the dogs i know at home. they come to have their ears scratched and beg for tidbits from the table. they look on people with affection and trust rather than wary resentment. they behave like pets rather than scavengers and strays. they look healthy. I've missed that
Bhagsu is one of the wonderful oasis towns in India that is mostly foreign in composition. people stay here for a while and so the shopkeepers and cafe owners get to know you by name. there are several places here where i can go where the owner will come up and shake my hand as i arrive. they think nothing of running a tab for me if I'm a bit short on cash or only have large bills (they hate doing this almost as much as they hate accepting a torn bill. In Arambol once i spent an entire day trying to find someone who would take a slightly ripped 50 rupee note). the question of whether i will return and settle up never enters their mind. People trust one another here and are warm and open with one another. you feel like you are part of the community rather than just a vagrant a curiosity, and an opportunity for easy money. after a being on the road for a while, i cannot properly express how welcome a change this is. Like every tourist community, there are classes on Yoga, meditation, Reiki sitar, tabla and various other subjects. there are regular open mikes and jam sessions in the cafes. The Jam sessions in Bhagsu can be a bit of an ordeal to attend because of three or four Nepali guys. they have learned only a few djembe rhythms and one flute tune. The Nepalis refuse to ever deviate from these no matter what anyone else is playing and only play as loud as possible. after the second hour usually a group of other musicians rebel and start playing their own music. in effect there are usually two jam sessions happening within ten feet of one another. I've stopped going to jam sessions.
I have been thinking a lot recently of returning home. not necessarily seeing all the people I've missed for so long, and how good it will be to be in familiar territory (these thoughts have never been far away) but the strangeness of it. What will i find unusual about my home now that i have become so acclimated to India? will i try to haggle at the stores? (I doubt this) how will i react when a meal at a restaurant takes less than an hour to arrive and I'm not able to sit there for hours after I'm done eating? Will i remember not to smile at random people on the subway or as they pass me in the street? it will be interesting to see how the reverse culture shock works.
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