Author: Eric

Hindi is a phonetic language that has 11 vowels and 35 consonants (or 13 vowels and 33 consonants, depending on what you call vowels). Reads left to right, like English, but has this line across the top. In handwriting you would use a line to level out the tops of your text, much as we do with a line at the bottom, but here they keep the line as part of the text. The second photo show, I think, a pharmacy. Even the graffiti has this feature.

And no presentation on roadside businesses by me would be complete without the neighborhood tailor. Yes, that is a real charcoal iron, in use. Prior to a Fulbright in which I was speaking, I had her iron my shirt. Price is 6 rupees – 5 cents; I gave her a 100-note and made her day (I try to pick up small notes to pass around).

Yes, there are fast-food joints.  Take a look at the Indian Colonel Sanders!

As I leave the Metro, here is the taxi stand.  Notice how they obstruct the traffic.  There are a lot of various people in the transportation business, from human-powered rickshaws to Ubers-on-motorcycles.

Here is a human-powered rickshaw. My colleague Arindam and I rode this out of the old-town area. Took a long time and he was huffing, this for 50 rupees (about 60 cents).

This is the first “auto” that I flagged down myself, enroute to my Fulbright meeting. Basically a motorized tri-wheeler. Amusement parks in the US should have these to scare people, or perhaps they could use these for videogames. At one point the driver drove one-way against a lot of traffic – my blurry pictures shows FEAR. He also had to stop for directions.

Finally, we should say a word about advertising.  It essentially covers every flat surface, everywhere.

Some general observations on India. To begin, we need to remind ourselves that India is the world’s largest democracy (the US is #2). And I hate to say this, but theirs is probably thriving better than ours. These are some signs from the last election.

India may also be the world’s biggest purveyor of small-business capitalism. Small businesses of every description, everywhere. This little cooker of meats is I understand “famous” (though I have to say that Indians may use the word “famous” too often). Some of these little businesses go back 100 years, not so hard to believe when you appreciate that the country’s interior has not been disrupted by war in more than 100 years.

Some of the roadside displays are quite fancy. I unfortunately am not allowed (warned by my doctor and Fulbright) to not buy any roadside food as this could have me worshiping the ivory throne for quite some time. That goes for dairy products as well, so this little ice cream stand is verboten. Note that this sticks out into the roadway, and buyers would literally stand in the road, and we have already talked about the traffic.

Many of the roadside displays are much less formal, little carts that are moved about – in amongst the traffic. These are some displays near my Metro station.

Here is a guy who has a small display outside the entrance to The Institute (more on that later). He sets up all these limes at the beginning of each day. Behind this is a little grinder for shaving ice to make what we would call “snow cones”. It is starting to get hot and I would love to have one of these, but of course I do not know where the ice came from, and so can’t.

Let’s see some of the little carts that are pushed down the small street in front of my apartment. This guy comes around in the morning at about the time I leave for work (0830). He has a variety of vegetables, which he can weigh out on a small hard-held scale. The second picture is of a cart with some carpets, the guy riding this dismounted and hustled out of field of view as I took the picture.

And here is the garbage man – there are no garbage trucks as we know them. What a neighborhood might do – and my neighborhood is a bit upscale – is hire a guy to come around and pick up the trash left by the roadside. Poorer neighborhoods do not do this and the garbage piles up to create a real mess.

Off the major roads, every alleyway is literally lined with displays of every kind. The second picture here shows clothing, and the third shows me at a little outdoor leather shop, where I am having a couple of additional holes put into my belt (I am losing weight!). These displays are everywhere. There are stores, I understand, but there are many of these small entrepreneurs … everywhere. There is no social net, so people raise money however they can.

This is a sign at the Metro station, in English and Hindi.  Elsewhere the signs are mostly in Hindi.

 

My third weekend here is “Color” Festival. I think some background is needed. Most jobs in India are 6-days a week; off only on Sunday. Maybe to recompense for some of this, there are many festivals, which vary from region to region. These can provide days off. Lucknow is fortunate in that there population is essentially split between Hindu and Moslem, which means more holidays.

The “Color” Festival is a three-day holiday, Friday to Sunday. Everything is closed, including the institute where I can usually even on Sundays. The holiday is a lot of Halloween and a bit of Thanksgiving. One the Friday, the kids come out and can douse anybody they can catch will colored powder, although there are also heavy-duty squirt guns and water balloons. I have seen some of the people in the street absolutely covered in “color” many of these perhaps against their will.

My hosts at the hotel/apartments that I stay at have offered to take me to what is essentially a family party. Whenever you meet someone you dab some of the colored powders on their face and so forth, which should explain the first picture. Fortunately, Ajay stopped on the way there to get me a disposable hat, otherwise I would have ruined one of my caps.

Here is a picture of some of the people in the street, very well colored.

As you can see, my hosts are already well colored before I get there. Everybody is happy to see an American and there are some questions; they are quite happy to be talking to a scientists. This is a middle class extended family, which has a small sewing shop in the rear. Everybody speaks English pretty well.

There is a lot of dancing, the music is a sort of Electric Rap in Hindi, many of the people seem to know the words for each piece. Probably not much different from a party in the States.

Some neighborhood kids show up with a double ended drum. They make a racket and eventually get some money and move on. A guy shows up with two monkeys and one is allowed to climb on me.

And there is food. I will try to talk about the food once I am bettered versed on the subject. The food is good, and is generally only lightly spiced (I get warned not to eat this or that, I usually taste a bit but make sure that I have a drink in hand). I have to be careful, as dairy products and uncooked food can have me worshiping the ceramic throne in pretty quick order. The rule on fruits is for me to eat anything that is covered (bananas or oranges) but not something where I eat the skin, as that may have been washed in water that can have the same effect. The party also has something that is seldom seen in India: ICE. This drink is alcoholic but no one is drinking too much (I have a couple of beers but avoid the whiskey).

This is my first opportunity to see the Indians “letting their hair down” (having a good time. This is a joyous people, and the festivals are an opportunity to play. I hear there are about 12 fairly major festivals during the year, and many lesser ones. “Color” is one of the big ones; the “Light” Festival occurs after I leave.

I find when I get home that the colors are not easily water-soluble. Two showers after I get back to my apartment and much is still on my face.