Modern life
Rewalsar is a small Indian hill town. It’s not Delhi, or Mumbai, or Bangalore.
This being so, living in a house just outside Rewalsar means more than a few lifestyle changes. Occasionally I’ll get a bit of mental whiplash when I look back on the differences between the modern life I had in the Bay Area, and here. Just to give you guys a taste, I thought I’d spend this post listing some examples…
1) Making Coffee:
Bay Area: The night before, pre-load coffee-maker with ground coffee and water.
The next morning, stagger out of bed and into kitchen. Push button on coffeemaker. When the coffee’s done, pour and add fixin’s. Drink.
Rewalsar: The night before, fire up the stovetop (see below) with an electronic lighter. Fill up the humongous teakettle with water, and wait for it to boil. This is a good time for a few rounds of a sock or sweater. Once the water boils, pull over a footstool and put the water flask on it for ease of filling. As always, marvel at the the amazing way the flask keeps liquids hot for, like, ever. Everyone in town has at least a couple of these things, designed to keep tea hot during a day of visits from friends and neighbors. The flasks are a kind of super-thermos that use cork stoppers. After filling the flasks, place on counter to await the morning coffee-making procedure.
In the morning, stagger out of bed and go on kora. About an hour and a half later, put a drip filter over a different flask, and pour hot (Yes! Still extremely hot!) water through the coffee. Once the water pours through, pour coffee and add fixin’s. Drink.
2) Acquiring milk:
Bay Area: Get in car. Drive to Safeway. Buy milk. Take home, place in fridge.
Rewalsar: In the morning, wait for a small Indian child (the son of our landlord) to call “Auntie?” through the front gate. Open gate and offer small cook pot for child to pour milk into. Reward child for bringing the milk with a toffee, or a piece of fruit. Reward cow for supplying the milk with a bunch of vegetable trimmings from last night’s supper, by handing it to the child. This milk is usually still body temperature from the cow. If I were a more “eat
local“-obsessive foodie, and had the Hindi vocabulary for it, I could probably find out which udder the milk came from. Stick pot on stovetop. Fire up the stovetop with the trusty lighter, and heat milk to foaming. Take milk off burner. Once milk cools, place in fridge.
3) Using a gas stove:
Bay Area: turn knob. When burner puts out blue flames, adjust height with knob and start cooking. No gas? Call the gas company.
Rewalsar: turn knob and listen for hissing gas. Put the trusty lighter next to the burner, and click the button-trigger. When burner puts out blue flames, adjust height with knob and start cooking. No gas? Switch the hose connector from your empty propane tank to a full one. Meantime, it’s time to get the empty one replaced.
Editrix’s note: everyone uses propane-fueled stovetops. The only true ovens in Rewalsar belong to bakeries. The tanks are a combination of reliable and indestructible, sporting a collection of dirt and dings from hard use. It’s not uncommon to see a chai-wallah sitting right next to the tank attached to his stovetop, smoking a cigarette or bidi while brewing the next glass. One of the tanks’ big advantages is that they work during power outages. Try that with your microwave.
To get the tank exchanged, ask neighbors when the gas truck will be coming through. If the truck isn’t coming today, give thanks for your second tank. Otherwise, everyone checks along the road to see if they can spot the truck. Whoever sees it first goes to the other houses to let folks know it’s time to drag out the empty tank downstairs and to the side of the road. An alternate alert method is to listen for a distinct “CLANG” from next door. The family matriarch, rather than drag the tank downstairs, simply tips it off her balcony. The tank will land next to the road, just in the right place where a propane-wallah can hop off the back of the truck, grab it and exchange it for a full one.
Meantime, a second propane-wallah carrying a purse hops out of the truck. Hand this man your money for the tank. Then go to the truck’s driver, and hand over your gas customer book–this book tracks your gas deliveries. The driver makes notations in the book and hands it back. Now for the fun part: dragging a full propane tank back upstairs.
4) Getting a snack:
Bay Area: Get in car. Drive 4 blocks to 7-11. Buy Slurpee, preferably blue, or Pringles. Drive home.
Rewalsar: Leave house. Walk down path to town:
Go to general needs store. Purchase potato chips, or an Indian snack like aloo bhujia, and cold soda. Alternately, stop by a namkeen (snack) wallah for a few pani-puri. Walk back up path, or catch a bus or rickshaw.
5) Feeding a cat:
Bay Area: Get in car. Drive to PetCo. Buy bag of food. Go home, and open bag. (Do not have cat help you.) Pour food in bowl. Place in front of ravenous cat.
Rewalsar: Leave house. Walk down path (see above) to town . Go to Butcher.
Look at carcass hanging in window. If the tail is long and hairy, it’s goat; if it’s a bit thicker and woollier, it’s mutton. Then check out bits on butcher’s counter. Ask for a kilo of meat, and have him hack it into small bits. Ignore flies in butcher shop. The butcher will hand over a flimsy plastic bag filled with meat bits. Take bits home.
Once home, cut bits even smaller, removing any bone chips and tough, stringy tendons. (Do not have cat help you.) Small reject bits with meat attached can be fed to ravenous cat immediately. Place bits in blender. Crush several washed eggshells to small powdery bits, and add to blender. Then add a couple handfuls of cooked rice or tsampa (ground roasted barley). Blend to a paste. Put half in fridge, half in freezer. When cat asks you what happened to the rest of the meat you bought, put one serving in a bowl, and place in front of ravenous cat.
The tossing of the propane tank would freak me out!
Comment by Sylvia | April 23, 2007
You’re describing not only the difference in the Bay Area and the Himalya; it’s also the difference between the 21st century and the 18th (where we “play”). Of course our 18th century excursions are one week at most…. But tell me, dear one - is it not also the case that there is a beauty and a tranquility and a simplicity for you there that may be lacking in the Bay Area, or even here in idyllic Madison. (And dear one…is there a way a small person in WI might prepare a nice box of things to send to you, as well as things for your folks?)
Comment by Dale-Harriet in WI | April 23, 2007
Sylvia: I felt the same way the *first* time. By abot the fifth “CLANG”, I got used to it….
Dale-Harriet: yes, there is beauty. Yes, there is simplicity. There is also an opportunity to practice meditation that I wouldn’t give up for anything.In the States, there was always Something Else that somehow always urgently needed to take precedence. I also like the idea that I’m basically “eating locally” in a way that I really would have had to work at, in Oakland…
However, it’s also true that there are buckets instead of washing machines, and occasionally candlelight has to replace electric lightbulbs…
As for sending me a nice box of things, of course there’s a way. More details coming to you via email.
Comment by admin | April 25, 2007
ooooh, delicious anticipation…. *grin*
Comment by Dale-Harriet in WI | April 25, 2007
Love the article. I belong to Rewlasar and in US (LA).
Comment by ramesh | July 22, 2007