Finger Food

One of the major things a person has to get used to when traveling abroad is the food.  Each country has it's own specialty or specialties, and India is no different.  From what I have seen, the main staple appears to be rice, which is a lot different from what I was used to.  My diet in the States consisted of three main things; meat, fat, and dairy, which were usually in some type of fried form.  Frying is like the duct tape of cooking; if you don't know how exactly to prepare something, you can never go wrong by frying it.  At least for me, it's my go-to method of cooking.  And in the USA, particularly in the American South, people will fry pretty much anything.  I have had fried chicken, okra, squash, eggs, turkey, grits, Twinkies, Oreo's, locusts, corn bread, apples, and even ice cream.  The mere fact that we can fry ice cream shows the skillfulness and proficiency in our ability to fry just about anything.  Needless to say, it's probably not the healthiest way to prepare food, but it is oh so good!  Another difference is the ingredients.  South India food is a lot spicier than American food.  But I don't want to write about what's added to the food in India as what is taken away.  Indian food seems to be lacking a few key ingredients that everyone is so used to back in the US.  Where's my high fructose corn syrup?  Where's my Yellow 5 and Blue 40?  What do you mean there's no MSG in the chicken?  Where's my partially hydronated vegetable oil?  None of that is in the rice!  And where's the sugar?!?  Even the salads you can buy at McDonald's have sugar added.  The point that I am trying to make is that the food that I have up to this point eaten in India is, by far, healthier than what I have been in eating America.  When I first arrived and saw what was on the typical menu, I got a little nervous.  How would my body handle all of this new stuff?  Will it reject it like a transplanted organ?  Will my kidneys and liver atrophy from the lack work in cleansing my blood from all the preservatives and other chemicals?  Images filled my mind of me being bound in a straightjacket and thrown into a padded room in the upcoming weeks while the withdrawal symptoms slowly took their toll.  Fortunately for me, I appear to have adjusted nicely, with no aftereffects (although, in all honesty, I would really love a BigMac right about now). 

Another difference is that Indians generally have a more intimate relationship with their food:  that's a polite way of saying that they eat with their hands, sans utensils.  And they do it well.  They eat with the precision and dexterity of a Swiss wristwatch maker, with little or no mess.  We Americans like to keep a certain degree of separation between us and our food, which is roughly about the length of a fork or spoon, and so the only senses that are really involved is taste, sight, and smell.  We don't hold a steak in our hands to feel the firmness.  We don't massage the mashed potatoes in our hands to experience the consistency.  Indians make eating with one's hands look easy.  For me, I picked up where I left off, which was about 3 years old, and it showed.  I had food all over the table, my face, my lap, on the floor, on my shirt, on the ceiling (don't ask), and somehow in my pockets.  Trust me, it is harder than it looks, and it is especially harder than eating with utensils.  To me, using a fork now would seem like cheating.  

As always, I encourage your feedback, and give me any tips, criticisms, pointers, or ask any questions you like.  Until next time...

Welcome to my first blog!  It should be noted that I have never blogged before in my life, and my writing skills are a little...uh...not good, so please bear that in mind while reading.  If you have any comments or suggestions or input, please please please do not hesitate to let me know!

Anyways, about my experiences in India...

“What's India like?” you may ask.  I have been here for a little over three months, so I have a lot to cover.  But I will start with one of the first things I noticed when I arrived, and that is the driving.  My first impression after arriving at the international airport in Chochin and taking my first car ride to our program leader's house was, “I...am...going...to...die!  Here I come, Jesus!”  And that's not supposed to be a slight against our host; he is actually a very good driver.  I am talking about the others that are on the road.  Horns constantly honking.  People passing slower moving vehicles into oncoming traffic.  The obsolete truck with its engine screeching because it is immensely overloaded with lumber (the designs of the cargo trucks haven't changed much since WWII, as I learned from the Discovery Channel's documentary on truck drivers in India).  Motorcycles zipping in and out cars like a slalom.  Motorized rickshaws puttering along the shoulder of the road.  And all the while avoiding other hazards, such as pedestrians, people on bicycles, stray animals, the occasional crater of a pothole, and so on.   By American standards, it is sheer chaos.  But this ain't America.  India is like a whole other country!  And it has its own set of rules.  For starters, Indian drivers drive on the left side of the road, which from time to time I still forget, especially crossing the street (I'll be looking left, and on seeing no traffic approaching, start to cross, only to welcomed by the sound of a desperate driver honking the horn from a car coming at my right).  Which brings up the topic of horns.  I think it's fair to say that Americans use their horns in traffic to basically communicate “Hey, moron!” which usually involves some choice four letter words and the occasional middle finger.  Here, as far as I can understand, the horn is used to basically let another driver know of your presence.  One will honk when passing a truck to basically say, “I'm passing on the right.  Please don't merge into me.” Or, “I'm passing on your right, and there is a car coming at me from the opposite lane.  Please allow me to pass before he or she runs into me.” 

It seems that drivers here are constantly jockeying for position, so traffic in a city can be somewhat helter-skelter.  Stopping for a red light resembles shoppers at a mall, lining up at four in the morning, waiting for the store to open to take advantage of a Christmas sale.  The closer it gets to four o'clock, the more people are trying to wedge their way towards the main entrance, to be the first to grab that desired item.  The traffic lights I have seen have timers on them, letting you know how long the red light is going to be before it turns green.  As it ticks closer to zero, drivers in all sorts of vehicles do their best to wedge closer and closer to the intersection. 

In summary, to quote an Indian taxi driver from the book Traffic by Tom Vanderbilt, the three things that are needed to drive in India are, “Good horn.  Good breaks.  Good luck.”  In the States, if someone cuts you off, the sounding of a horn usually follows, along with some anger and rage.  Here, it appears that being cut off is expected.  There may be some ill feelings involved, and if there are, they are not nearly as intense.  One of the challenges I face while living in India is to be able to see India on its own terms, not on what I am used to back in the States.  There are common sense rules and customs when driving in India, which are (surprise!) very different than American customs and courtesies.  To say traffic (or anything else, for that matter) in India doesn't have any rules because it doesn't follow American standards does not do India, or the people that live here, justice.  With that in mind, my experience is by no means meant to define what the culture and the people are like.  My experience is just what I observe and my best understanding to describe what I think is possibly maybe going on, sort of.  My observations may be totally spot on, or may completely miss the mark, or probably somewhere in between.  Anyways, there will be more to come.  Comments and critiques are always welcome. (And if anyone can tell me how to use blogspot.com, please clue me in)