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The Folks Come to India
NB: Have been a bit remiss with the blogs; this entry is well overdue as Mum and Dad left India over a month ago! Lots has happened since, including my decision to stay in Delhi for the remainder of my time. But more of that in the next blog. So...
I was really looking forward to Mum and Dad's visit, but I have to admit to some mild apprehension too. India can be 'in-your-face'; it had certainly taken me a while to adjust to the noise, heat, pollution, traffic and general chaos of Delhi/Indian life. I wondered how Mum and Dad would find it. India is unpredictable and wily; I was still very a beginner at navigating its myriad social mores and challenges myself. It wouldn't be like when they visited me in Portugal, where I felt I knew the ropes and could negotiate its cafes, hotels, transport and culture with confidence. What if it was too hot? What if they got ill? What if they just didn't like it?
I should have had more faith in my parents, and in India, as my worries proved needless. Yes, it was hot and Mum did get ill, and yes a few unpredictable, inconvenient and annoying things happened, but Mum and Dad took to it all like ducks to water, and in return India took to them. Their visit also lead to a surprising discovery. This being that the solo traveller to India's most valuable travel accessory is a couple of parents! Yep, forget guidebooks, folding bags, fancy translators or any of the latest travel gadgets and gismos - all you really need for a enjoyable, interesting and safe travelling experience in India is a mum and dad. Let me explain.
Straightaway I noticed that in the company of Mum and Dad people's reaction towards me changed. Travelling on my own I attract a range of responses from people around me; curiosity, protectiveness, occasionally disapproval, and of course, unwanted male attention. I suppose this puts me a little on the defensive; my default behaviour is to avoid eye contact, to be a little suspicious of being approached, a slight wariness. That's not to say that I walk round like a prickly porcupine closed to all human interaction, but I now realise that to a certain extent, I am always 'on guard'.
It was different with Mum and Dad on the scene. Any suspicion and disapproval, as well as the majority of the lecherous glances that I sometimes experience here entirely vanished. We were met with curiosity, warmth, hospitality and kindness. Being with them, gave me a context - it made me safe in other people's eyes. I had an identity as a daughter; my position was clear and I guess in all societies this enables people to know where they stand in relation to you and provides unspoken cues about how they can, and should, relate to you. In turn this makes interactions easier and more relaxed.
In addition there is the respect for the family, especially parents, inherent in Indian culture. Right, or wrong (and it does has many draw-backs and limitations), we entirely benefited from the reverence and attention paid to mothers and fathers here. People bent over backwards when I explained that whatever I wanted was for my 'Mata-Pita Ji" (there is no direct translation for 'parents' in Hindi and so the words for mother (mata) and father (pita) are joined and the respectful 'ji' usually added - mother always comes first of course!). Yes, I could have the best room, naturally the hotel would organise to collect us from the station, of course we could move the table outside. It was a passport to all kinds of privileges and fast-tracks.
Any act of kindness or consideration I showed towards Mum and Dad also drew approving and appreciative responses from everyone around - what a good, dutiful daughter you could hear them thinking. My goodness, it almost, but not quite, absolved me from the heinous crime of not being married (ideally to a rich, successful husband), with children (preferably sons)!
But I can't give India all the credit. The warmth and hospitality with which we were greeted was in no small part down to my parents' relaxed, patient and enthusiastic attitude. On reflection, although it was understandable that I should worry about them - and I worried far more for their well-being than I ever had for my own - I realise that I hadn't really given them enough credit. They've travelled widely and got themselves into and out of all kinds of scrapes. They may have more refined taste and higher standards these days, but they could hack a little rough travelling in India.
As to what we did during their stay, well hopefully the photos will cover some of that (to be uploaded soon!). Safe to say that we packed A LOT into two weeks, including; the sights, parks, restaurants, cafes and museums of Delhi; the Taj Mahal; a four-day trip to Shimla in the Himalayan foothills via the planned 'garden' city, Chandigarh. We took the narrow gauge railway up to Shimla, which over the course of five hours, climbs a staggering height and passes through 103 tunnels; every one of which elicited loud whooping and whistling from the train's younger passengers. Mum admirably overcame her vertigo on the roads of the world's highest mountain range, whilst Dad bravely coped without his daily dose of full-strength cafetiere coffee. I had hoped to convert him to chai instead, but it seems India's favourite cuppa couldn't quite fill coffee's shoes.
I especially enjoyed showing them my life in Delhi. I introduced them to the boys at Chaya, where Dad was challenged to his first chess game in a while and Mum read stories aloud to a captivated eight year old. They also met my brilliant travel agent Mr Sunil; my good friends Emily and Gabriela and the staff at my local coffee shop - who, in testament to my regular attendance know my name, coffee drinking habits and where I am up to with my Hindi homework! They also became big fans of auto-rickshaw travel; in fact it wouldn't surprise me if Dad had already written to the city council recommending the introduction of auto-rickhaws to the streets of Sheffield.
I also experienced an amusing role reversal. While I got angsty and uptight about paying more than we should for a rickshaw, or a hotel not being up to the standard promised on the website, or museums closing for yet another holiday, it was my parents saying, "no worries'', and reminding me that in the grand scheme of things 20 rupees really didn't matter. When I was fussing about food poisoning and hand sanitiser, they were more laissez-faire, pointing out that if you want to enjoy your holiday you can't be obsessively vigilant. When Mum did succumb to Delhi-belly she took it on the chin, and even managed to see the positive side (well, it's not often you come back from holiday half a stone lighter!).
Mum and Dad were quick to give people the benefit of the doubt and adept at seeing situations from the other person's view. In their company I felt myself relaxing, becoming more open to people approaching us, and less quick to reach cynical conclusions. Their visit enabled me to experience yet another of the many faces of India. Through their eyes, I saw an India that was even more mesmerising and extraordinary, and developed a deeper affection for this country and its people.
So, if any prospective travellers to India are interested in hiring them out, I'm sure they'd be available for a modest fee (say a cold Kingfisher or two) and I personally can't recommend their services highly enough.
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