Category: Culture

Everything cultural that interests me: music, reading, science, arts in general, news, photography…

Sunday CD's #2 [en]

5 CD’s in my CD rack: Blue Touches Blue by Noa, One Day At A Time by Joan Baez, Bienvenue chez moi by Florent Pagny, Southside by Texas, and Ricky Martin (album by the same name).

Sorry for letting you down last week, I was busy showing these two frenchmen around.

Here we go:

Noa: Blue Touches Blue (playing)
My sister gave me this CD (for my birthday?) a few years back. I own three Noa CD’s, and this is the one I’ve listened to least (although there are some nice songs on it). I put it in the CD player about an hour ago before taking my bath, and I’m listening to it now.
Ricky Martin: Ricky Martin
I discovered Ricky Martin during my year in India, as a couple of his songs were regularly playing on the music TV channels I watched — I enjoyed drooling in front of the TV set while he danced. I particularly like Livin’ La Vida Loca and (even more) Private Emotion, but I’ve hardly really listened to the CD in its entirety.
Texas: Southside
One of the first CD’s I got when I was a teenager. Listened to it quite a lot for some time (actually, I’m going to put it in my CD player right now, I haven’t listened to it for years!) I played the drums in a vague school band at the time (we tried to get something going for the 10th school anniversary, but dropped it after three months or so), and I remember we were preparing I Don’t Want a Lover.
Joan Baez: One Day At A Time
Well, although this one spends a lot of time in my CD rack, it isn’t actually mine — it’s my father’s (maybe I should give it back one of these days *ahem*). A long-time favourite, Joan Baez having been my first “favourite singer”. I’ve listened to it a lot again these last few years (it regularly finds it way back into the CD player).
Florent Pagny: Bienvenue chez moi
I was a teenager when Florent Pagny arrived on the French music scene with the song N’importe quoi. Over the years, I heard more songs from him, and I’m clearly impressed by his vocal skills (he had training in classical singing). This CD is a best-of with a couple of unreleased songs on it, and as far as I can tell from the little green sticker on the cover, it must have been part of a discount sale. It’s not a CD that I listen to regularly, but I’ve had my phases with it.

Five more next week!

Sunday CD's #1 [en]

Five CD’s I own: Live in Dublin by Chris de Burgh, Dil Chahta Hai soundtrack, Asia (eponym album), Rebel by John Miles, and Stereotomy by The Alan Parsons Project. More next week!

Stephanie made me notice yesterday that she had not really figured out what music I liked. In a sudden surge of inspiration, I had an idea for a little game I’m going to play with you these next weeks. Feel free to copy and repeat for yourself!

I’ll try to pick 5 CD’s out of my CD-rack each Sunday (the one currently in my CD player and four more as randomly as possible, with my eyes closed). I’ll list them and tell you in a few words why I have this CD in my CD-rack, if I listen to it a lot, how much I like it — in short, what it means to me. In other words, this amounts to using my CD collection to give you a little insight into my musical tastes, history and culture.

So here goes, 5 CD’s for today:

Chris de Burgh: High on Emotion — Live from Dublin (playing)
This is one of the last batch of 5€ CD’s I ordered at Amazon after Christmas. Chris de Burgh was my second “favorite singer” when I was ten or so (after Joan Baez). We had lots of Chris de Burgh LP’s and cassettes at my parents, which I left behind as I moved out, and now (thanks to Amazon) I’m re-building my collection. I like Live albums in general, so I picked this one up — and I don’t regret it.
Dil Chahta Hai soundtrack
During my previous trip to India, I went to see one hindi movie: Dil Chahta Hai. As usual, I bought the soundtrack as a souvenir. I remember I used to listen to it a lot when I started work just after the trip, and it still makes me India-nostalgic when I listen to it. There are some really nice songs on it (like the title song of course, and I have a soft spot for “Tanhayee” — and Sonu Nigam’s voice.)
Asia: Asia
This is another album I picked out of my father’s extensive LP collection when I was a (pre-)teenager. Probably I heard him playing it once, and noted I liked it. I used to play the LP in the kitchen when I was cleaning up after evening meals. I made myself a cassette with my father’s two Asia LP’s, and listened to it in my room a lot. I bought the CD recently (in one of those “cheap CD” boxes in a store) for historical reasons, and I listen to it every now and again.
John Miles: Rebel
I just love the song “Music” (another one I discovered through my father’s LP’s) and bought the CD just for that song, in another “cheap CD” box. I’m not sure I’ve ever listened to the whole album since I bought it. But I own it 🙂
The Alan Parsons Project: Stereotomy
Yet another out of my father’s collection and my teenage years (they all seem to come out from there, don’t they?) I haven’t listened to it for ages, but I really like all the songs on it. When I was in Gymnase (the swiss equivalent of High School), I had it on a cassette with “Eye on the Sky” and used to listen to it on my walkman, during one cold Lausanne winter.

That’s it for today, folks! Today’s choice gives the impression that all my musical culture comes from my father’s LP collection (not entirely wrong, but not entirely right either), and that I buy all my CD’s at discount prices (pretty correct, actually — I go on CD-shopping binges when they are anywhere below the normal presposterous prices.)

Indian Things I Love [en]

I’m regularly told that I give a bad image of India (the horror stories and all that). Here is some of the nice stuff that I never write about. Things I like about India.

I’m regularly told that I give a bad image of India (the horror stories and all that). Here is some of the nice stuff that I never write about. Things I like about India:

  • the rivers
  • poha
  • riding on the back of Madhav or Shinde’s bikes
  • the shopping stalls near Laxmi Rd
  • walking in the university campus
  • going to the movies
  • mad shopping binges
  • kathi rolls and kheer kadam from Radhika’s
  • chay
  • the smell of incense and fresh coriander
  • people who smile at me or compliment my dress
  • rickshaw drivers who go by the meter
  • chatting with people on the train
  • coloured clothes and cloth
  • travelling by train
  • shopping
  • changes of plans and surprises when they go the way I want them to
  • painted signs and boards
  • rangoli
  • sari bags
  • krack cream
  • the dampness of the air on arrival in Bombay airport
  • kulfi and gulab jamun
  • butter naan and butter chicken
  • the warmth
  • having all the time in the world to take my bath and eat my breakfast
  • glass bangles and silver anklets
  • reading for days on end
  • children in school uniforms
  • eating on the kitchen floor
  • the cup of tea offered by the internet cafĂ© manager because I’m waiting for the end of the power outage
  • Hindi and Indian English
  • negociating seating arrangements and luggage storage with fellow train-passengers
  • sticking 46 large stamps on the 6.5kg book parcel I’m sending home
  • the Kal Ho Na Ho ringtone on Anita’s cellphone
  • sweet-smelling flowers in the night
  • Hindi music in the car
  • chay with milk straight out of the goat’s udder at Taramai’s

Thekkady [en]

In Thekkady, a hill-station in Kerala. Been sick, brief description of the place.

Thekkady is a nice hill-station. For the moment, the most I’ve seen of it is my hotel bedroom, thanks to the gastro-entritis that kept me in bed all day and in the bathroom all night. As far as I can see, Thekkady is mainly composed of a street lined with identical shops (with identical men in front of the shops trying to tempt you in by asking you what your name is and where you come from). When the street gets tired of shops, they turn into pretty expensive resorts, all next to each other (Cardamom Country, Spice Village, Taj Garden retreat and our more modest Ambady).

We got here yesterday after an afternoon on the road. We hired a private car, but gave up trying to communicate with the driver after he stopped the car and nearly turned back, obviously in a misguided attempt to try to satisfy an imaginary request of ours, when Anita was simply asking a curious question about the route we were taking.

Cellphones don’t work here, enquiries about paying with VISA are greeted with crispated smiles and a barely audible “no… cash please!”, and broadband internet access seems like science-fiction. You’ll therefore have to wait until I’m back in Mumbai (or at best, Cochin) to see any of the photos and videos Anita and I have been furiously shooting (within the limits of the storage space available on the memory card, of course).

I have quite a lot of backlog to type up, going back to my three weeks in Pune. Watch older entries, you might find new reading!

Savitri III [en]

At every moment we make an unalterable decision. When I wrote to you in the beginning, I made one.

At every moment we make an unalterable decision. When I wrote to you in the beginning, I made one. I made another when I invited you to Tirupet. After you had been and gone, when I gave you that string of answers to your questions, then again I made a decision. I have not altered it. The psychological basis of my behaviour did not come in the way of this. Only I did not get the response I wanted. Had I got it, I would have come anywhere with you, done anythng for you. Every girl, the instant she is born, comes prepared to leave her mother and her father.

You might perhaps say that you too expected a response and that you did not get it. How can I give an answer to this? To tell you the truth, one ought to be able to arrive at these decisions without resorting to the language of appeal and response.

Now, after writing all this, I feel embarrassed. If reading this causes you any sorrow then forget me for all time.

Savitri II [en]

You want love, and I don’t want it? What is it that I have given you these six years

You want love, and I don’t want it? What is it that I have given you these six years? Only I did not get entangled in the nomenclature of what I wanted, of what I still want–that’s all. You ought to have carried me off, dragged me away–yes, I am writing what’s true, what’s absolutely true. Nothing is ever gained by analysing things. We only become strangers to our own selves.

P. S. Rege, Savitri

Savitri I [en]

When we were children, my friend’s brother was once to have come from a far-off place. I saw her weep because he didn’t come. I even teased her.

When we were children, my friend’s brother was once to have come from a far-off place. I saw her weep because he didn’t come. I even teased her. Then I too sat and wept with her. Today I didn’t weep. Why? Because I am beginning to learn that one shouldn’t look too far ahead nor try to reshape what has already taken place. What has happened must be left as it is–far away. By holding on to it, the shades tend to grow faint. That’s all.

P. S. Rege, Savitri

Deliverance [en]

You are a writer, I told myself; yet you readily give a wide berth to raw reality when you encounter it…

You are a writer, I told myself; yet you readily give a wide berth to raw reality when you encounter it, as if living was a thing apart from the truth of existence of that truth was a thing apart from writing–as if living and truth and writing bore no relation to one another: as if each hung like a cold corpse from its own separate gallows.

Nirmal Verma, Deliverance

First Two Days in Kerala [en]

An account of our package days in Kerala. Nice!

It took a bit of firmness, but it was finally less difficult than I had feared to obtain the various entertainments promised in our package.

We started yesterday evening with a trip around the local canals in a canoe. Peaceful, and nice, glimpses of lives in little houses or huts near the water, and the splashing of the oar in the dark as we headed home, interrupted only by the twilight din of the birds hopping and chirping excitedly in the coconut trees.

The food was nice, although the ‘vegetable curry’ we ordered alongside the fish was ‘somewhat bland’, and we clearly hadn’t ordered enough. For my part, I was thinking ‘family style portions’, but each dish here was clearly meant to feed one person only.

We got up at dawn this morning (6:20 a.m., the birds were at it again with their racket) for a slightly longer tour through the backwaters in a motor boat. Luckily we just chugged along slowly, so the noise didn’t prevent us from enjoying the peacefulness of the morning scenes offered to us: fishing, bathing, and washing up the dirty dishes.

We came back for a hearty breakfast of appams, and discovered that the vegetable curry wasn’t too bad with a little added salt and pepper.

By nine o’clock the car (mini-van, actually) was ready to take us to a neighbouring village for a short trek. There isn’t much to say about it apart from the fact that it was pleasant and allowed the atmosphere to sink in. Anita shot quite a lot of videos with the digicam.

Lunch was a success. We had ordered a lot of food and it was really nice — especailly the prawn masala (prawns naked, if you please). We ordered accordingly for this evening.

Half of the afternoon was devoted to laying around and bathing for me, and hotel-hunting and transport-organizing for Anita. Again, I cannot say it enough: thanks, many thanks.

Around three we set off for a brief visit of the highly coloured temple, a stroll on the beach (the soft sand and warm water made me want to bathe, can you imagine!) and a walk in the town. Our driver, Matthew, turned out to be a very nice chap who told us all about the finest umbrella manufacturer in all India (here in Alleppey only), as well as a local church we peeked into.

I’ve rarely packed as many things in an Indian day as I have today!

A Tourist in India [en]

Some thoughts about being a tourist in India, and how I hate being a tourist.

– ‘Your country?’ Asks the man on the bus.
– ‘Switzerland.’
– ‘Svizerrland!? Ooh. Why you are not staying there?’
– ‘I am staying there. I came on holiday to visit some friends. I used to live in Pune.’
– ‘Ooh, so you are just tourist, then!’
– ‘Well, er…’

That was a week or two back, on the overcrowded bus which was finally taking me down to E-Square to see Ek Haseena Thi. I’ve always hated being associated with ‘tourists’, in India or elsewhere.

Tourists come to see, not to share. They watch the world outside from cozy A/C boxes. They are impolite, they don’t know how to dress or behave, they can’t eat the food or find their way around without a map. They see what they are meant to see, stay in places specially designed for them, and buy things in shops that nobody else would buy. They have money, lots of it.

In some ways, I have to admit that I am indeed a tourist. I take lots of photographs. I buy loads of stuff in shops to bring back to Switzerland for my enjoyment and that of others. I don’t really keep an eye on what I spend, I eat in nice places, I go to the cinema as often as I like.

But on the other hand, I much prefer trying to share the life of ‘normal’ people or just walk around the town I’m staying in, rather than sleep in expensive places and do the things that only the tourists do.

I like people. I do my best not to turn them into objects. I like everyday life. I like soaking in the atmosphere of a place or time.

I’m very suspicious of other foreigners I come upon in India. I kind of assume that they are not like me, more the ‘hippy-dippy’ type, as Aleika and I used to call them. Some sort of anti-tourist snobism, in a way.

Of course, I’m wrong. Lots of foreigners in India are certainly nice people. I almost walked off for ever after saying hello to Aleika, mistakenly assuming she would be ‘at the ashram’. Quite a few of my friends from Switzerland or elsewhere have been to India, so they would therefore certainly have been ‘foreigners nice to know’ had I met them in India.

Ironically, I find myself looking at other foreigners with as much curiosity and maybe more questions as many Indians who see me walk by. Why are they here? What brought them to India? What are they looking for? How long are they staying? Do they ‘fit in’ or not in their home culture? What is their life like here?

The result is that I’ve had very little contact with other foreigners in India, and I’m aware that I’m probably passing by people who would be interesting to know. I keep myself ‘aside’, comfortably settled on a jute bag full of preconceptions and marked ‘Fab India, Pune’.