Indian Samurai इंडियन सामुराई

Our little trip in Europe helped me realize a big quality that Indians have, and it is a very big one: they love children. Which means, practically, that they do not look at you like you are about to commit some crime when you get on a train with your kid (who has not even opened his mouth but is already perceived as a source of trouble).

That they don’t throw nasty comments at you when, in an airport queue, you drop your smoothie trying to prevent your child from running away, and before you even have the time to take out a tissue to clean, “ah wonderful” (I told that old German hag to relax for the love of God).

That they don’t allow you to have dinner in their restaurant only under the condition that the child will remain sited and strapped in his highchair (no need to tell you that I went to another Scottish joint to have my fish & chips that day).

That there is little chances that an Indian hostess comes to tell you, after a one hour flight, that your baby has been “particularly painful” (he just screamed for 10 minutes but that same hostess wouldn't let me get up to distract him, because of the cart and her stupid rule that passengers can not sit on the floor below his seat even if the only thing he would thus disturb is the wall) and that “next time it would be better if the baby travelled in the economy class” (You're proud of you, aren’t you, Swiss Air bitch?).

That they will certainly try and distract your child on the plane if he is unsettled, or come to suggest feeding him if he is crying (it's a bit annoying that they explain any crying by hunger, but at least they try to help rather than push you further in your distress of mother-that-bothers-people).

That they will take him with them and their own children to let you “have breakfast in peace” at the restaurant. (You’re embarrassed, you don’t dare accepting, you give in and you are forever grateful to them for this little break.)

Sometimes it also gets a little extreme: it is not uncommon to see children in bars, late at night, with their parents. Or kids at the movies, watching adult films. But well, when you see how exposed to violence young Indian children can be through Indian mythology (full of violence, sex, betrayal) from an early age (see this post), you start thinking that an adult movie is not so bad.

I kind of feel like that in Europe – and I confess I was like that before having a kid –babies are above all seen as a nuisance, a source of noise and inconvenience and you don't want to be next to one on the plane. Nor anywhere else. And maybe it’s a little sad. Children are the life, future, energy and innocence that we all lose a little growing up and that they give us back if we know how to watch them live and let them be. It’s also a little sad that people don’t even give them a chance to behave before thinking that they will ruin their happiness. But maybe I’m wrong...

Recently, India, to me, seemed just too polluted, too noisy, too hot, too smelly, too chaotic, too complicated, too mosquito-friendy. Just too much. It was probably the effect ‘three weeks in Europe in September, with an idyllic climate, the beautiful landscapes of Scotland (without pollution, without noise, without heat, without humans; well, just without anything)’. And I had to answer the same ten questions about life in India, which somehow makes me highlight the challenges – and consecutively wonder what I am still doing there! – rather than focusing on the positives, I don't know why. So landing back in my ‘reality’ under fooggy 40 degrees was a bit rough this time.

Until the day (less than a week after I came back) where, in the toilets of Chennai airport: I had been struggling for a good five minutes with my earrings – I got my ears pierced two years ago but I am still very clumsy and I hurt myself every time I try to put an earring – when the cleaning lady offered her help. And saved my right ear from a bloodshed!

Well, not so easy easy to adapt to be honest... Be it only because of the climate and the wildlife.

For example from May to June it was hot. So hot even the mosquitoes did not survive here, and it was nice! At nearly fifty degrees, you are at high risk of liquefaction, at least of your brain. Even the pool water becomes too hot. One or two sandstorms to spice up everything and give a little fun to the cleaning lady, as the house is apparently completely permeable to dust. From time to time we can spot a snake looking for water, possibly in the pool, even he is hot the poor thing...

End of June – beginning of July there were ups and downs, and a little rain. Just enough for flies to hatch. Quite a nuisance these flies. Obviously, when it gets hot the AC guy comes by to check that everything works well in the office. And as everything works well, he decides to be a bit zealous and loosen some valves. Following which he creates a water damage and flees the crime scene, letting water flowing from the ceiling cheerfully. How nice was it, all of us sweat profusely in the office during the following week!

And then mid-July it began to rain a little more, almost once a week. Just enough for mosquitoes to resuscitate this time! And at the end of the month, a day or two of heavy rains destroyed a lot of infrastructure – well, they forgot to put a drainage system when they built the city so I don’t get how everybody got so surprised by the flooded roads – and left Gurgaon stranded for almost an entire night (cf below what the poor rich of my society had to go through, tough life!). And gave life back to the... ants! Yes yes! So at the moment there is a waltz of flies, mosquitoes and ants. And the temperatures are quite pleasant (minus the humidity otherwise it would be too much happiness).

Apart from all these summer, climate and entomological considerations, life isn't so bad in our big quite house. What is a little painful is that nothing is at a walkable distance. But hey, we can’t have everything!