I’m currently up in the NW of India, in a city called Ahmedabad. It’s relatively close to the Pakistan border with all of the cultural impact of the competing countries. Last night some local friends took me out for dinner. It wasn’t exactly roughing it, as it was at a private club, known for its Gujarati cuisine. The style of eating here is to have a large steel tray, with several small bowls sitting on it. The waiters (lots of them) constantly circle the table, looking for an opening to dart in and ladle all sorts of exotic dahl, curry and spicy vegetables onto your tray. You eat with your fingers. Carefully.
A not so quick aside. Speaking of circling the table – In the early noughties whilst in a neighbouring country, as they say; I stayed on the upper floor of the old Karachi Sheraton just before it was bombed and it had a great view of the city. Even better than the view of the city was the constant and close up view of large raptors that rode the thermals and watched you through the blast proof film on your window. You could actually see the lazy curiosity in their eyes as they glanced over their shoulder, made real eye contact and swept gracefully by. In order to get a beer, you had to order one from room service, sign a chit saying that you were 1. not muslim and 2. alcoholic and for medical reasons, needed the booze. Invariably, the first one would be brought to your room in a small box and it would be warm. If you were polite and tipped heavily enough, you could send it back and you’d be rewarded by a stream of very cold single beers brought by the same waiter, who breathlessly thanked you for each tip every time, after having ran up and down the stairs reserved for the waiters who served the heathen alcoholics.
Sorry, but I did say a not so quick aside. Back to circling the table. I asked my waiter why there were so many eagles outside the window? “The tower of silence Sir” was my answer. I must have looked a bit simple, so he added “the people of the flame Sir” No wiser, I said “I’m sorry, I don’t understand” – he politely bowed as he accepted my tip and reversed out of the room as if he was on wheels, closing the door with a slam that only Indian waiters and ‘B roll’ horror film actors can get away with.
I called down to the front desk and asked them what the ‘tower of silence’ was and was set off on a polite round of ‘I don’t want to talk to the foreigner’ call passing between staff. Eventually, I reached the concierge, who in any country of the world can be relied upon to provide down to earth, no shit advice on how to get a decent gin and tonic, buy a gun or a starter motor for a 1959 Morris Minor. The concierge explained that in the Zoroastrian religion, dead bodies were left unburied or cremated and instead were laid to rest on the ‘tower of silence’ – literally, a tower where the dead were left in the sun, to be devoured by Vultures and other birds of prey. There was apparently, such a tower a couple of blocks away, surrounded by tall trees, for privacy. Circling the table indeed.
Anyway, I digress. Being Gujarat, it’s a dry state (quelle horreur!) and 99% vegetarian, both of which are actually probably very good for me. The problem is that if you don’t say ‘no more’ to the waiters, they will keep coming round and dumping more food on you. If you do say ‘no more’ they will be quite offended, not being used to the comparatively minuscule portions of veggies that simple caucasians can eat and will retreat to their observation posts around the walls and glower at you. The food was just fantastic and I really could switch to veg for a while. I say for a while, because even my local host, who had lived in Denmark for 16 years, confided that he had to head out of state for a steak every now and then.
On the way out of the club, my host noted that there was some traditional dancing classes being held in a room off the main entrance. Now, I can smell a stitch up a mile off and having the dance floor grace of a piece of broken farm machinery, I made like an elderly greyhound out of a trap and limped towards the exit muttering something along the lines of ‘nice, but there’s not an ‘f’ing hope in hell of me trying that…’ My host was far from offended and laughed like a drain.
Incredible India indeed.
For a bit more fascinating information on Zoroastrianism, try this for a read –
https://www.theosophical.org/publications/quest-magazine/42-publications/quest-m%20agazine/1231-zoroastrianism-history
And thanks to ‘R’ – here’s some background on the towers of silence and the need for more vultures. https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2015/jan/26/death-city-lack-vultures-threatens-mumbai-towers-of-silence
Sounds interesting. Keep the great posts coming! I love reading them. By the way, it’s great to hear you’re trying the veggie lifestyle 🙂
Thanks Liz, I have to admit that I really did enjoy the food. It sat far better with me than lump of improperly cooked meat, but one of (my) life’s pleasures is a good medium rare Australian steak washed down with an Argentinian Malbec.
You do get around! I feel as though I have subscribed to an adventure holiday website with a motto along the lines of ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway’. Wonderful.
Hi Christine, thanks so much for commenting. Sometimes, you just really do have to take a deep breath and make like the Bear!