Here on the farm we are blessed to have many lovely staff members (local villagers). They have taught me all the Hindi I know and how to make the worlds best chai! I have formed a close bond with them, despite the language barrier and massive cultural differences. 'Morning beti! chai chahiye? (morning child, do you want chai?) greets me every morning as I walk into the kitchen. They within themselves are like a family, all working together everyday under the same roof. The youngest maid 'Tara-Mani' aka 'Choti' (which means small) is just 17 and works the hardest! Despite how hard they work and how tired they get there is always a smile and a hug waiting for us after school. The level of respect here is astonishing. Anyone very senior to you no matter your youth is shown upper-most respect. Traditionally, youth show respect to their elders by touching their feet as if to take their blessing. Anyone younger than you that is a child is referred to as beta/beti (child) as opposed to saying their name. Anyone slightly older than you is Didi (for sister) or Bhaiya (for brother). Those a lot older than you are always uncle and aunty. Your grandparents from your Mothers side are Nana/Nani and from your Fathers Dada/Dadi.
The list basically goes on to cover every possible family member and their exact relation which is very handy. Perhaps they can't be bothered learning the names of their 200 extended family members, fair enough! I am not complaining, learning Indian names has definitely been the biggest challenge since arriving. My maturity levels were tested the most when meeting an elder man who's name was Shithead (I'm guessing a very ancient Hindi name, sounds more acceptable with an Indian accent where the th is pronounced a little different) but still…My first reaction was Sorry? Now I've actually gotten used to it considering I have four students in one of my classes with shit in their names. Parikshit, Akshit, Harshit and a girl Harshita and they are legends. Every name has a meaning which for the most part is endearing when the names have nice meanings such as Khushi - Happiness and Asha - Hope . However it can also have the opposite effect. I met a guy called Dipaka which literally means Lamp… and someone called Sajal which translates to 'moist'…hmmm maybe for a pet fish :/
The list basically goes on to cover every possible family member and their exact relation which is very handy. Perhaps they can't be bothered learning the names of their 200 extended family members, fair enough! I am not complaining, learning Indian names has definitely been the biggest challenge since arriving. My maturity levels were tested the most when meeting an elder man who's name was Shithead (I'm guessing a very ancient Hindi name, sounds more acceptable with an Indian accent where the th is pronounced a little different) but still…My first reaction was Sorry? Now I've actually gotten used to it considering I have four students in one of my classes with shit in their names. Parikshit, Akshit, Harshit and a girl Harshita and they are legends. Every name has a meaning which for the most part is endearing when the names have nice meanings such as Khushi - Happiness and Asha - Hope . However it can also have the opposite effect. I met a guy called Dipaka which literally means Lamp… and someone called Sajal which translates to 'moist'…hmmm maybe for a pet fish :/
Anyway back to the actual point of this post. Being buddies with the staff has advantages! Jaiwanti Aunty the most lovely person you will ever meet, such an all rounder! I once spent half an hour trying to teach her how to pronounce the word milk which they pronounce millllllek. It was like the cool-whip episode in family guy she just couldn't get it! Last Saturday I was lucky enough to be invited along to one of her extended family members wedding after parties. Winta was sick so I took my friend Angus along for a local experience. Now the villagers definitely do it best. There is no doubt family comes first for these people, as the crowds of villagers poured in, struggling to fit inside the walls. They actually had to rotate people in and out to eat. The first room was filled with the Uncles (senior men of the party) having a smoke and drinking their rice beer, followed by the younger girls giggling in room two, too shy to pop down stairs and check out the young lads taking up most of the back-yard. Then there were the Aunties killing it in the kitchen making the sweet chai and last but not least the V.I.P room where the bride and groom perched with their closest family/friends. No surprise Angus and I were placed in this room as we were the 'Special guests' aka Only white people…If you wanto be famous for simply being white than come to India. Simply being white can actually be a bit of a lose lose situation especially at local village parties. At this one birthday party I was given double the amount of food to everyone else. If you say no it's rude but if you say yes it's awkward because then the entire party watch you eat a second round whilst they just sit there plates empty.
At local feasts however everyone is very much equal. At this wedding for example and a few Puja's (prayer ceremonies) I've attended everyone sits in long rows on simple pieces of thin cloth outside cross-legged. Everyone is given a paper plate and then it begins…Men with big pots cover every row with about five different dishes. First comes the rice, and there is definitely no shortage! Then the dal, then various vegetable dishes, chapati, curry and sometimes meat depending on the people. Then the sweet rice. Now, lose concentration for five seconds and you will look down to find your plate has been refilled three times. These men with pots are quick and overly hospitable so keep staring at your plate for the duration of the meal to give them the 'that's enough' hand signal and you should be fine. Golden rule number one and basically the only rule you must wait until every single person has finished and then everyone stands up, folds their paper plates in unison and walks off back to the party inside. Now originally ( thought great I am a fast eater I will be forever…But then I remembered I have to eat with my hands. Now challenge number one for me is the fact that I'm a leftie…so just to be on the safe side I learnt to eat with my right hand. It's not an issue up here you won't get in trouble for being a leftie but I quickly got sick of "oh you're a leftie? Yep she's a leftie!" so challenge accepted I changed hands. After I finally crossed that hurdle the next challenge which I still haven't mastered is picking up soggy rice! or basically anything covered in liquid is a massive struggle with ones bare hand and apparently having it all over your hands, past your finger tips is impolite. eek. To top it off I have half the party staring at me because I'm usually the only white person so they are probably confused about how I cracked an invite. So yes this definitely slowed the pace of my eating/tripled possible self-consciousness. Saying no to food in general here is also not an option. Even learning the Hindi for no thanks I've had enough won't get you out of it.
Now the family I live with here on the farm are very well educated and have British heritage. They don't follow this arranged marriage system or many other traditional Indian prototypes which makes life easier for us. The villagers however, are very isolated and not very well educated so they still follow these old traditions for the most part. This marriage however wasn't arranged, but how young they were! The bride Mamta was only 20 years old and the Groom who's name I can't pronounce, let alone spell was merely 22! She was wearing the most beautiful red sari embodied with intricate silver trimmings. Definitely put me even more off traditional white wedding dresses! Not that I plan on getting married anytime soon but all the colours and flamboyant designs definitely made the idea a bit more appealing for the future. She wore a necklace around her neck that was quickly filled up with 10 rupee notes by the guests as a sign of good luck. Dhruv tells me it is also used as Indian style bling...interesting. Shame 10 rupees is only 20 cents I don't think I would want twenty cent pieces stuck over neck on my wedding day, little heavy. But oh how did she rock those ten rupee notes! I like to think my 20 cent contribution helped them out in some way…
After food came dance. We thought were being told that we were going to watch some traditional dance so we eagerly head inside to the main room, full of people! How lost in translation we were…Little did we know we had actually been told that they they wanted us to perform some of our traditional dance for the bride and groom...The whole room that was filled with standing bodies suddenly became quiet and every single person was sitting staring at Angus and I who were standing in the centre of the room…Talk about put on the spot. Then they started the music and that's when we realised what they wanted from us. Uh oh. What is traditional Australian dance anyway? Primary school definitely did not prepare me for this situation. I don't think Cotton-eyed Joe, The Macarena or The Dosey-doe count as traditional…shit. Now I can't dance and Angus is quite the shy one so we were screwed. I shouldn't have turned down that pungent local rice beer dammit. Luckily we had a scape-goat, the third member of our "White People's Party" that I didn't mention earlier, Alan. Alan is a 56 year old Scottish man that came to stay at the farm for the weekend, to help at the school. He is one of those super happy, cheerful and enthusiastic types, a lovable dag! He wears those shoes that look like toe socks. Anyway out of nowhere he saved the day, good old Alan. Whipping out energetic dance moves left right and centre, he even tried to get some of the 80 year old aunties involved, who wouldn't have a bar of it. If you can't picture him and his dancing even remotely then this will give you an idea. For some reason it reminds me of him, skip intro... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dm7yAWpX1Mc . Oh Alan you will be missed.
Angus, Jaiwanti and her grandson.
Alan and Angus
Eating traditional style
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