Sleep - yes sleep. It is now 3:09 in the am where I am - California. Sleep alludes me. The older (maybe not sure - but a boyfriend 20 years my senior - 40 to my 20 told me he didn't sleep as much as he used to) I get the less I can sleep. It is a drag because I used to like to sleep and still do - just can't.
Anyway - I woke up after a great sleep and they fed me breakfast and then bid their goodbyes and sent me back to Helen's with the driver. Back at Helen's I just settled into living with them for awhile. I would walk around Bombay and just take in the rush of the throng of people there.
My mother knew an Indian woman who was having a torrid affair with another Indian guy that was a friend of the man who would become the father of my sister. I knew her name at that time and knew she lived in Bombay somewhere. As my luck would have it - someone Helen knew also knew this lady when I mentioned her. (don't ask me how all of this shit came together the way it did - it just did.)
I located her and she invited me to her house to stay for a couple of days. She had never married. She was of the Brahman cast (priestly cast and therefore the highest cast in the system). I managed to get to her family house by train and she welcomed me into her home. The women were quite separated from the men in the home and I was with the women. We were all introduced - extended family living under the same roof - maiden (although not a virgin - if what my mother told me was true) aunt living with her parents and brothers, wives, nieces and nephews.
I had dinner with them and the woman (can't for life of me remember her name at the moment) invited me to hang out with them for the night and next day take in some sites with her and her niece. I spent the night there and again slept like I wish I could now. I got up in the am and had breakfast with the family as if I belonged and felt so relaxed - it is hard to explain the Indian culture of hospitality.
When you are invited in, you become one of the family - no matter how different you may be. I would just sit back and listen to the language and be lulled into a blissful state of relaxation and forget I was American and different. I hung out for part of the day and we headed out for a beach site. It was somewhat of an entertainment center of a beach and they had camels that could be hired for a ride.
Just the thought of riding on a camel with this distant contact from my mother's life of the '50's was just such a mind blower. We rode on the camel all over the beach and paid our few rupees and walked around for the rest of the day with this little niece. It was quite an experience.
I ended up back at Helen's and continued my visiting with all of her friends. Many people she knew were in the movie business there in the Indian Hollywood. Actresses came to her house for lunch and we went to their places for lunch as well. Most of these "stars" were slightly older and had moved from playing the main love interest to playing the older sister type roles - much as Mr. Singh and moved from the romantic leads to the heavy.
I finally decided to go back to Madras and my friends there. I hopped a train and headed back.
To be continued - I need to sleep sometime.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
O.K. On with the tale
Back in Madras I met an actor named K.N. Singh. Many guys took on the name Singh for professional reasons as it seems a common name for westerners to associate with India but it is a name of the Sikh religion - Mr. K.N. was not a Sikh but a Hindu who had transitioned into the roles as the bad guy in talkies from the days of silent Indian film. He was a full on drunk story teller of great charm and wonderful tale telling abilities. Of course as a young female I caught his fancy in a very Platonic way and he wanted me by his side to hear all his tales long into the night. He was heading back to Bombay as were many of my friends - Helen and the Panamanian Consulate so the invite was extended to head for Bombay by flight across the pointy part of India. Indian Airlines. Oh boy. Scary.
Now this is something about India - especially in those days. This was very much the time when just the very smallest shoots of modernization was coming into India. The Military had most of the advances and that was where the money was - not into infrastructure like phone lines, television etc. - the airlines were run by Indian companies and the staff had to be recruited from the upper classes in order to get educated people to do the work but they do not have a service component to their class structure. They are to be waited upon - not do the waiting on others. Now granted this is from my point of view as a Westerner and a young one at that. The stewardesses were not friendly nor did they smile and reassure the passengers when the turbulence hit the plane - I was very nervous and wished I had drugs. Alcohol is not my drug of choice when my stomach is already in my mouth.
We landed in one piece and I stayed with Helen. She was moving with her husband to a new apt. in the main city of Bombay. It was a penthouse - three structures from the Taj Mahal Hotel in front of the Gateway to India built for Queen Victoria. The Bay of Bengal was the view from the large patio/deck in front. Quite posh. It was the same spot as the terrorism attack of a couple of years ago - the guys with the guns from Pakistan. The area has changed and developed much since then but I did recognize the footage.
I visited with K.N. Singh- he took me around with his driver - to visit friends from his early life. We went to an apartment building in the city to meet a friend from his college days. The man lived with his wife and 2 daughters in a one bedroom apt in a walk up of a few stories. The man had had a stroke and was paralyzed on his left side. His daughters worked in offices and they seemed quite poor by any standard but cheerfully welcomed us into their lives. The flask was offered to the old friend and tea was made for me.
I had to pee while there and they had me pee in their kitchen sink - which was a raised lip of about a brick height in the corner of the kitchen. I was quite proficient at squatting on ledges of things like curbs so this wasn't too difficult. They also don't use toilet paper - anyone traveling or fighting in the middle east with the local guys know this - one uses water and the left hand - and drip dry. I was glad I was young and adventurous. I took it all in stride and kept smiling.
From there we went to visit an "Old Jewess" his words - who was in silent movies with him but couldn't transition to Hindi when talkies came in - so she retired. The house was very Gothic with cobwebs in the corners hanging down like grey/black drapes. The furniture was all antique and well kept. Everything was like a museum of art and everything was old. The servant was an old skinny Indian lady with white hair pulled back - she wore a black sari - which really set off this white hair with her dark skin. She hung out around the stove and smoked cigarettes.
The actress friend was lovely and also a delightful story teller. She was heavy set and dealing well with the circumstances life had handed her. It was all the feeling of the formerly wealthy and famous in the declining years of life. The three of us played gin rummy and laughed and talked - we sent the driver out for Chinese food - yes - the best Chinese food in the world was in India. God bless the Chinese - they are all over the world with their restaurants and help those of us who haven't developed a taste for burning food yet. We finally wrapped it up when the "adults" were good and drunk - thank God for sober drivers - my friend guy could barely walk by the time we left. Again, alcohol was not my choice - especially when life and limb depend on sharp thinking.
He had the driver take us to his apartment. His wife came to greet her husband - as only a patient wife of 40 some years can do and accepted that he brought home a young lady without so much as a word of reproach. I slept on the couch bed and oh how I wish I could sleep like that now.
Post for now and continue later.
Now this is something about India - especially in those days. This was very much the time when just the very smallest shoots of modernization was coming into India. The Military had most of the advances and that was where the money was - not into infrastructure like phone lines, television etc. - the airlines were run by Indian companies and the staff had to be recruited from the upper classes in order to get educated people to do the work but they do not have a service component to their class structure. They are to be waited upon - not do the waiting on others. Now granted this is from my point of view as a Westerner and a young one at that. The stewardesses were not friendly nor did they smile and reassure the passengers when the turbulence hit the plane - I was very nervous and wished I had drugs. Alcohol is not my drug of choice when my stomach is already in my mouth.
We landed in one piece and I stayed with Helen. She was moving with her husband to a new apt. in the main city of Bombay. It was a penthouse - three structures from the Taj Mahal Hotel in front of the Gateway to India built for Queen Victoria. The Bay of Bengal was the view from the large patio/deck in front. Quite posh. It was the same spot as the terrorism attack of a couple of years ago - the guys with the guns from Pakistan. The area has changed and developed much since then but I did recognize the footage.
I visited with K.N. Singh- he took me around with his driver - to visit friends from his early life. We went to an apartment building in the city to meet a friend from his college days. The man lived with his wife and 2 daughters in a one bedroom apt in a walk up of a few stories. The man had had a stroke and was paralyzed on his left side. His daughters worked in offices and they seemed quite poor by any standard but cheerfully welcomed us into their lives. The flask was offered to the old friend and tea was made for me.
I had to pee while there and they had me pee in their kitchen sink - which was a raised lip of about a brick height in the corner of the kitchen. I was quite proficient at squatting on ledges of things like curbs so this wasn't too difficult. They also don't use toilet paper - anyone traveling or fighting in the middle east with the local guys know this - one uses water and the left hand - and drip dry. I was glad I was young and adventurous. I took it all in stride and kept smiling.
From there we went to visit an "Old Jewess" his words - who was in silent movies with him but couldn't transition to Hindi when talkies came in - so she retired. The house was very Gothic with cobwebs in the corners hanging down like grey/black drapes. The furniture was all antique and well kept. Everything was like a museum of art and everything was old. The servant was an old skinny Indian lady with white hair pulled back - she wore a black sari - which really set off this white hair with her dark skin. She hung out around the stove and smoked cigarettes.
The actress friend was lovely and also a delightful story teller. She was heavy set and dealing well with the circumstances life had handed her. It was all the feeling of the formerly wealthy and famous in the declining years of life. The three of us played gin rummy and laughed and talked - we sent the driver out for Chinese food - yes - the best Chinese food in the world was in India. God bless the Chinese - they are all over the world with their restaurants and help those of us who haven't developed a taste for burning food yet. We finally wrapped it up when the "adults" were good and drunk - thank God for sober drivers - my friend guy could barely walk by the time we left. Again, alcohol was not my choice - especially when life and limb depend on sharp thinking.
He had the driver take us to his apartment. His wife came to greet her husband - as only a patient wife of 40 some years can do and accepted that he brought home a young lady without so much as a word of reproach. I slept on the couch bed and oh how I wish I could sleep like that now.
Post for now and continue later.
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