Distant relatives

Way back in the day (you know, like seven months ago), I wrote a post comparing Australia to the good ol' U.S. of A. I must admit, it took some effort. The two places are pretty similar. Like kissing cousins. Cut from the same English cloth.

Japan and India - however - easy. They're not even distant relatives. Walking off the plane from Tokyo to Delhi, it seemed as if I'd landed on another planet. One where the rules of physics were different.

Here are a few examples.

Dear Google*

In Japan, I'd gotten used to the people. They're pretty demure. Polite. They tend to look down - poised for a bow - versus looking you directly in the eye.

Or up & down.

But in India, they stare. And they stare at you like YOU are from another planet.

Because you are.

The women stare. The men stare. They all stare.

In the airport, I felt like a circus animal (for some reason, the airport is fair game...the staring is MUCH worse in the airport).

I thought it would stop. You know after I'd been there for FOUR hours. Walking around. Eating my Pizza Hut and drinking my mango juice.

But no.

And as I sat there - picking the baby corn off my pizza (why is baby corn on my pizza?) - my thought process was as follows:

Is it because I'm a foreigner?

Surely not. This is Delhi. They must get loads of foreigners.

Is it because I'm tall?

Indian women aren't dwarfs or anything. I can't imagine that's it.

Is it because I have red hair?

Thank goodness I don't have blue eyes. Then I'd really be a sideshow freak.

Are my clothes not conservative enough?

I'm wearing a skirt and t-shirt. I thought that was pretty conservative. My skirt is below my knees. I'm even wearing tennis shoes (God, I look like an American).

Is my shirt too tight? Do people not wear cotton around here? WHAT?!?!?!?

The women staring didn't really bother me. But the men. Now this bothered me. They weren't just gazing. They were staring. Lasciviously.

(As an aside, I absolutely hate it when men stare. It's a power thing. And it makes me want to punch them in the neck.)

I'm a woman who needs answers. So I took to the Internet.

Dear Google,

Your humble servant,

Stephanie

Finger sandwiches

In India, they feed you. In Japan, not so much.

In India, food solves every problem. I told a friend I was feeling sick. She said, "You need to eat."

Eat?

"Wouldn't rest be a better idea? Sleep?"

"No, you need to eat."

Eating is what it's all about in India.

In India, they serve you meals on a 1-hour flight. And I mean hot, full meals. Before the pilot has even cleared the runway, a cart rolls out with a piping hot Indian meal. A hearty meal. And they just keep it coming.

Now, I like this. Because Indian food is awesome. And for some reason, it's also awesome on planes. But - I could be dead asleep - drooling on the person beside me - and the flight attendant would wake me up for a meal.

You know when you're asleep on a plane in the U.S? They leave you alone. Because they know that sleep is more important than food. Especially when you're flying. Sleep is precious.

And sleeping takes certain conditions. And sitting upright in a chair - with a bunch of strangers around you - is not one of those conditions.

I tried to ignore her. But I kept hearing - consistently - steadily - annoyingly - through my four-weeks-of-traveling-coma,

"Ma'am"

"Ma'am"

"Ma'am"

I finally opened my eyes, "Oh my God, WHAT?!?!?!?"

"The meal. Aren't you going to eat?"

Um, well, considering we boarded the plane at 2 a.m. and I ate dinner in the airport at a normal time, I'm not sure a meal is required right now!?!?!?!

Let. me. sleep.

On the way to Tokyo from Sydney, my entire team flew together on Japan Airlines. There were probably 100 of us. All packed cozily in our little upright pews. Flying for 9 long hours.

We starved.

I mean, seriously. I even slept for the first four hours and I starved! At one point I got up and asked the dainty little Japanese flight attendant, "Are we ever going to eat on this plane?"

She smiled. She must get this a lot. Big Westerners.

"Of course, you are," she said.

And then like 2 hours later, they wheeled out some finger sandwiches. Oh, lord.

Making somethin' outta nothin'

In Japan, there are no homeless. I only saw one guy - clearly homeless because he's mentally ill not because he's poor. But I was still astonished to see him there. Japan is a very prosperous country. It has one of the world's highest standards of living.

He was wearin' stuffed animals. The cat was wearin' bells.

India is a stark contrast. In India, you can make a home out of anything. Corrugated steel is a favorite. Tents. Lots of tents. India has a third of the world's poor. And you can tell.

On our way from Agra to Jaipur our driver took us to a part of India that - let's just say - wasn't on the tour. People were living on the sidewalks right off the main road. In tents (and when I say tents, I mean sticks and tarps). As I stared at the naked children sitting on the sidewalk, playing, he said, "This is the real India."

(Not the Taj)

People seem to be amazingly resilient in India. And crafty.

Did you know that you can make a barbershop out of only two things? A chair and a mirror.**

All the other stuff? Unnecessary.

I only saw one of these in India - as I was flying by in my chauffeured SUV (for shame). A mirror stuck to a concrete wall and a chair. Oh, and a barber with a paying customer, of course.

And a few more for good measure...

1.) The people

In India, people hug. In Japan, they bow. I. love. hugs. You win on that alone, India.

Hugs are under-rated.

You don't realize this as an American. In America, people hug. You meet a good friend's friend. One you've been hearing great things about for a few months - you hug them. Right? No bowing or nodding or hand shaking. You hug.

Hugs RULE.

2.) The beds

Same. Same hard ass beds.

3.) The cab drivers

Same. Clutch. Completely and totally clutch.

So in Japan they may have an automatic door that pops open for you when you approach the cab. They may use their own cell phone minutes to get directions to where you're going. They may even leap out of the car to open your door for you. Or sit for 10 minutes without the meter running trying to figure out where the hell you're going when you only speak English and they only speak Japanese.

But when you're in India - shuffling out of the airport at 2 a.m. - and there's someone waiting there - in that sea of people - holding a sign with your name on it. Someone ready to drive you through the crazy streets, dodging cows...

You might as well pledge your first born child. I mean, you are that thankful.

4.) The drink of choice

Green tea vs. chai. It's so damn hard. Frothed, legit green tea vs. chai with yummy spices and sugar. ACK.

OK, chai! Dang. Sorry, Japan.

I learned something new as I answered with a third option every time someone asked me, "Would you like tea or coffee?"

"Chai," I'd say.

Chai = Tea in at least three Indian languages.

Duh.

5.) The language

India – you speak English. This is so great.

6.) The clothes

In Japan, they wear floral dresses. It's very Western. But it’s a bit like having Laura Ashley dress you. I even saw a Laura Ashley store.

India – you win. Saris – hands down.

In Jaipur, it's so dusty - no greenery anywhere in sight. So the women wear exquisitely colorful saris. So the men call the women, "flowers" because of this.

How sweet.

Although kimono, you’re pretty cool too, I must admit.

7.) The service

Japan - you win like a house on fire.

In Japan, well, you've read my posts about service in Japan. It is unparralelled.

In India, you can't get service without giving a tip. You think someone's being nice enough to help you and then in the end they rub their fingers together.

(If I allow myself to write too much about this subject I may just break the "F" key.)

In my view, this is the most annoying thing about India (and I love you, India. You know this.) I was walking in the airport with my bags on a cart. Pleased as punch. Someone came up - an airline employee - and offered to push my cart for me.

I was about to decline but he just pushed off in front of me without paying me any mind.

Oh well, whatever. It's 2 a.m. and I don't feel like arguing with you.

Upon rubbing his grubby little cart-stealin' fingers together, I gave him a few rupees. The amount equal to the effort he expended pushing my cart for 2o seconds. And he scoffed at it. Handed it back to me.

I was so annoyed. The tour company told us that India learned the art of "tips" from England. T.o I.nsure P.romptness. Who knew?

Well, Indian service industry - you certainly committed that lesson to memory!

Sign language

In Japan, they bow.

In India, they bobble (or wobble). I'm not the only one that finds this entertaining. There are many YT videos of Americans filming their Indian friends doing the head wobble. I love it. I was eating lunch the other day and I did it! A friend caught me.

"You just did an Indian head nod!"

"Oh, shit. I did!"

I love the Indian head nod. It's so funny. And nonsensical.





But seriously, over-simplicity and cliche aside, it's so hard to compare these two places. They are so weird and wonderful in their own ways.

And I'm not sure I'd be able to pick one over the other if you paid me. I love them both. And, as you can see, I love them for what seems like completely and totally different reasons.

But you know what? Ironically, I love them for one very simple - and similar - reason. Regardless of the idiosyncracies of a foreign country, these places ingratiate themselves to you for one simple reason. It's the genuineness. The graciousness of the people.

The sincerity.

It's actually pretty simple.

And it's golden.

* Forgive me, Indian men I call friends. You're all so wonderful and not all all lascivious. :)

** Alas, not my photos.