Translations

"Please madam can I take your cup?" 

I nodded fervently to communicate an emphatic YES.

BUT at the same time I also raised my right hand PERHAPS to convey my greetings to the waiter as an Indian Chief solemnly states 'How', OR- as could be more reasonably assumed- to say NO at the same time I was nodding YES. The waiter, confused, left my empty cup of coffee on the table. Again he came back, again the same spasm overcame me, and again the coffee cup was left. SO firm was my palm that time that the waiter, confused if not a bit apprehensive, left my cup, glass, bottle and can on the table. You see, whilst English is widely spoken in India, it is a common misconception that everyone can speak it. The key players- your auto driver, rick shaw man and waiter- often 'do not' understand English at precisely the time you need them to. Now, this can come in handy when it means they get to try and charge you double for a meagre trip. Oh, and its also really useful when you want little Western women to wear luminous gowns (did I mention the gowns?). But, understandably, the waiter was genuinely confused by my actions, his English being more or less non existent. Not that English would have helped him out here. Why did I gesture with the inane actions of a CBeebies storyteller high on Panda Pops? Because I was desperate to be understood. 

Hindi is a beautiful language that, with time, can be picked up. Even after a few days I am understanding the odd word or so. It is essential, as I said, that you learn one or two phrases in order to successfully bargain with an auto or rickshaw. I have been lucky enough to have Hindi speakers with me so far at those vital times. Failing that and I have to resort to my Teletubby gestures (which, by the way, have been successful once or twice) and aggressive pointing at my map (my map!) Nonetheless, there have been plenty of times when I have been glad not to understand Hindi- namely, when turning down anyone on the street- rickshaws, vendors etc. Pretending (Actually) not understanding is a great excuse for moving on without further engagement. 

There has been one activity so far on my trip that for which I have LOVED not understanding Hindi: watching Indian soap operas. These TV programs follow similar themes of unrequited love and poorly arranged marriages. But aside from that premise, not a lot happens over the course of several days worth of TV viewing. This is because the camera is SO BUSY catching the brooding looks of every man, and the watery eyed stares of every woman on set. For every face shot, a dramatic 'Bong' sounds on a symbol and the camera dramatically cuts (dramatically) to a new face: "BONG" (DRAMATIC). 

Oh, and it works the other way. I see some very odd English written on adverts or shopping bags. e.g.

"Drink Bacari Sweat, the drink that fills you with body fluid".

"Dynamo-istic- the logo of this which is being that it conveys 'creativity', 'dynamism', 'dualism' and 'flexibility' of all appearances per sued'. I mean that kind of construction really messes with your head.

"PlastIndia: rock hard plastic supreme come for it."

Today, however, I was a fly on the wall to a situation which needed no translation whatsoever. I was about to sit on a nice empty bench in a park when an old woman shouted some direction to me. So, together we lifted the cast iron bench (yes, me and this old withered woman) from its perfectly nice location to another arbitrary spot. I was - she gestured- told I could sit at the very end. I was then joined by two elderly men who sat quietly next to each other in the Sun. They were clearly very fond of each other's company. One then began reading the news from his newspaper to the other. Now, here was a scene that I could understand. Two old friends who have a regular bench and meet up at the same time on a particular day to keep each other company. There are, you realise, several things we all have in common- the love of company and friendship in this case- which, in whatever language, is quite apparent. 

So, now cut to my day: I think I've visited every deceased Moghul this city has to offer and marvelled at each and everyone's tomb. I went to the crafts museum today, to a famous tomb (that, the guide book says excitedly, EVEN the Obamas have visited), and wandered around different parts of the city. All of these locations are wonderfully equipped for the English-speaker and everything is neatly translated. This, I've realised today, is getting boring. Its two dimensional because words don't give you the colour, sounds and facial expressions of what's actually going on around you. Yeah, EVEN my HOWYESNO is pretty intriguing- more so, than a sleepy museum. So, sorry Mr entombed Maharajah, I've come to the conclusion that I'm more interested in the untranslated stuff of life . I'll follow this post up in the morning with 'bizarre oddities observed' specifically amongst PEOPLE therefore.

Now, don't draw the wrong conclusions here: I'm not on a redefined quest to discover the glorious manifestations of humanity in all four corners of the globe. No, no, we'll draw a sharp line under my slightly clichéd, candy floss conclusions. I'll kick off my first 'people observation' with one that'll pop any inflated views. People are fascinating but they are also, as I have maintained from the very beginning of this blog, extremely odd.

1) An old woman dressed in pink sari stands by the motorway and, surreptitiously, oh so surreptitiously lifts her shawl to waggle her boobies at the man crawling along next to her.