Once again, I think "Begin anywhere" is terrific advice, mostly because it's not easy to write about India. I've been reading an author I am mad about, whose every work of fiction I have read, most of them twice, Geoff Dyer - his stuff is laugh out loud funny and intellectual, truly witty. He says things that I think all the time, and he phrases them better than I had been doing in my head. Today, re-reading one of his classics "Jeff in Venice; Death in Varanasi," I came across a line about "one cannot say anything new about Venice, including that line." I found it funny, and when it came up again later in the book (his characters tend to repeat themselves, as a subtle comedic device), I found myself thinking that that line - which is in fact true of Venice - is true of India.
In many ways, there's really nothing to SAY about India. It's not something you can describe by talking about it; that's the point, really, of India. That is WHY people go there, to BE there, not to come back and be able to talk about it, but because something seems to end up happening to the people who do go there, they WANT to come back and talk about it. Which is futile. Dancing about architecture, my friend D would say about now.
And yet, if one does want to describe one's love, one's passion, one's devotion to the beauty of architecture, and if one is a dancer, then one might be stuck doing just that. I'm a writer; I went to India; people want to tell stories about India, and therefore here I am, writing about India.
As I mentioned, it did not disappoint in terms of providing the culture shock you hear of - I was both repelled and attracted by the idea and then the experience of this culture shock. I travel fairly well, I nest almost instantly, I find myself at home in many places around the world, but still, India was a challenge. It was hot, it was loud, it was dusty and dirty and crowded and poor. It was also colorful, breathtaking, compelling, intense, exciting and exhausting.
One of the ways to find out what you feel about something is to see what your brain does with the information in the days, weeks, months to come. People get traumatized by a moment's accident, or remember forever quite clearly a joyful moment of awe and wonder - we reflect and our reflection tells us something. I watch four movies, basically, every Saturday, and one of the best parts of that is to see which ones surface the next day, the next week. Four in a row - which do I remember, which do I think or dream or talk about? Sometimes it's the one you didn't think left that big of an impression. My partner and I have experienced on many occasions this sequence of events: we watch 3 good to great movies, and 1 that was just so-so, and the next day we mention that, you know what movie stuck with me this time? That so-so one, and the other one of us will reply, me too!
India is like this; while I was there - while I was watching the movie of India play before my eyes, and in many ways, that was what it was like - I didn't quite get how good it was. I did get it, but I was distracted - the heat, the noise, the chaos, the intensity, all of it wears you out while you are there, but once those things are gone, once you get home, you can start to think clearly, and you realize just how compelling it all was. I paid close attention to India while I was there. I did, as close as I could. I do that every time I travel, or try to, but after my umpteenth time in Switzerland or New York or even Reno, I get complacent. A few years ago, on a trip to Europe, I realized I was so comfortable with the routine of getting off the plane, customs, the funny money at the ATM, blah blah blah that I didn't even register I was in a so-called foreign country until I had to speak French to the cabbie.
It was not possible to be complacent, at least for me, in India. Again, that seems to be one of its points, as least in as far as why white people want to go there. Westerners in general and Americans in particular tend to be very good at being elsewhere: the past, the future, or just zoned out in front of some screen or another. They don't tend to be good at being where they are, or just being in general. Being, full stop.
It's a lame generalization that you've heard before, but it's true, I did feel like many of the people I met and saw in India were present in their lives, seem to be inhabiting themselves in a way that no one in America I know does. And I saw a good sampling of people; I met a really wide range, wider than most tourists do: from 150 orphans to workman at the home to mircocredit loan recipients to workers in a cashew factory, I met people. I saw priests and flower sellers and tea brewers. I went to local tailors and worked with the local paint rajahs. I got so used to the giant mudpit-lake that flooded one spot on the daily commute through downtown of the 300,000-strong "small town" out to the orphanage that when it was drained (or dried up?) one day, I had that same feeling you get when they finally fix the pothole on the corner of your street. I got used to India, even though I never really got used to it, and now I want more of it. I wish I'd paid more attention, even though I gave it all I had.
So this is what you get when you try and dance about architecture - a smattering of the familiar story along with a few particulars; I'm trying to impart some context, instead of just a list of dates and places and activites, we saw this and we did this. Okay, okay, I promise to turn to those particulars next - even though you'll have heard it all before too. Still, that's the whole thing about life - it's nothing new and yet we're interested. I am tremendously interested, and most people I know don't want to die and so I assume they are at least somewhat interested. Still, as I heard a woman on the radio say today, "Life is nothing new; it's nothing we haven't seen before."
She's right, it isn't. And yet, we each of us have our own and different one. Life in general is nothing new, and yet my life specifically is new. Mine is nothing like, say, Hugh Jackman's, or an orphans in India. And yet I've gotten within both those circles, and it many ways, my life is exactly like theirs. There's commonalities everywhere. My very favorite wise quote about traveling is actually from one of my best and oldest friends, E, who says that when one travels, one continuously thinks: "Everything is so different. Everything is the same."
India was very different, and yet I did find some same. That's next!
In many ways, there's really nothing to SAY about India. It's not something you can describe by talking about it; that's the point, really, of India. That is WHY people go there, to BE there, not to come back and be able to talk about it, but because something seems to end up happening to the people who do go there, they WANT to come back and talk about it. Which is futile. Dancing about architecture, my friend D would say about now.
And yet, if one does want to describe one's love, one's passion, one's devotion to the beauty of architecture, and if one is a dancer, then one might be stuck doing just that. I'm a writer; I went to India; people want to tell stories about India, and therefore here I am, writing about India.
As I mentioned, it did not disappoint in terms of providing the culture shock you hear of - I was both repelled and attracted by the idea and then the experience of this culture shock. I travel fairly well, I nest almost instantly, I find myself at home in many places around the world, but still, India was a challenge. It was hot, it was loud, it was dusty and dirty and crowded and poor. It was also colorful, breathtaking, compelling, intense, exciting and exhausting.
One of the ways to find out what you feel about something is to see what your brain does with the information in the days, weeks, months to come. People get traumatized by a moment's accident, or remember forever quite clearly a joyful moment of awe and wonder - we reflect and our reflection tells us something. I watch four movies, basically, every Saturday, and one of the best parts of that is to see which ones surface the next day, the next week. Four in a row - which do I remember, which do I think or dream or talk about? Sometimes it's the one you didn't think left that big of an impression. My partner and I have experienced on many occasions this sequence of events: we watch 3 good to great movies, and 1 that was just so-so, and the next day we mention that, you know what movie stuck with me this time? That so-so one, and the other one of us will reply, me too!
India is like this; while I was there - while I was watching the movie of India play before my eyes, and in many ways, that was what it was like - I didn't quite get how good it was. I did get it, but I was distracted - the heat, the noise, the chaos, the intensity, all of it wears you out while you are there, but once those things are gone, once you get home, you can start to think clearly, and you realize just how compelling it all was. I paid close attention to India while I was there. I did, as close as I could. I do that every time I travel, or try to, but after my umpteenth time in Switzerland or New York or even Reno, I get complacent. A few years ago, on a trip to Europe, I realized I was so comfortable with the routine of getting off the plane, customs, the funny money at the ATM, blah blah blah that I didn't even register I was in a so-called foreign country until I had to speak French to the cabbie.
It was not possible to be complacent, at least for me, in India. Again, that seems to be one of its points, as least in as far as why white people want to go there. Westerners in general and Americans in particular tend to be very good at being elsewhere: the past, the future, or just zoned out in front of some screen or another. They don't tend to be good at being where they are, or just being in general. Being, full stop.
It's a lame generalization that you've heard before, but it's true, I did feel like many of the people I met and saw in India were present in their lives, seem to be inhabiting themselves in a way that no one in America I know does. And I saw a good sampling of people; I met a really wide range, wider than most tourists do: from 150 orphans to workman at the home to mircocredit loan recipients to workers in a cashew factory, I met people. I saw priests and flower sellers and tea brewers. I went to local tailors and worked with the local paint rajahs. I got so used to the giant mudpit-lake that flooded one spot on the daily commute through downtown of the 300,000-strong "small town" out to the orphanage that when it was drained (or dried up?) one day, I had that same feeling you get when they finally fix the pothole on the corner of your street. I got used to India, even though I never really got used to it, and now I want more of it. I wish I'd paid more attention, even though I gave it all I had.
So this is what you get when you try and dance about architecture - a smattering of the familiar story along with a few particulars; I'm trying to impart some context, instead of just a list of dates and places and activites, we saw this and we did this. Okay, okay, I promise to turn to those particulars next - even though you'll have heard it all before too. Still, that's the whole thing about life - it's nothing new and yet we're interested. I am tremendously interested, and most people I know don't want to die and so I assume they are at least somewhat interested. Still, as I heard a woman on the radio say today, "Life is nothing new; it's nothing we haven't seen before."
She's right, it isn't. And yet, we each of us have our own and different one. Life in general is nothing new, and yet my life specifically is new. Mine is nothing like, say, Hugh Jackman's, or an orphans in India. And yet I've gotten within both those circles, and it many ways, my life is exactly like theirs. There's commonalities everywhere. My very favorite wise quote about traveling is actually from one of my best and oldest friends, E, who says that when one travels, one continuously thinks: "Everything is so different. Everything is the same."
India was very different, and yet I did find some same. That's next!
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