Pani Puri in Bangalore and Noises in the train
Back from Bangalore. I experienced Indian rainstorms for the first time in my life. They are as beautiful as depicted in pictures and books. Specially if you watch them through a window. They have a poetic touch, a smell of refreshment and paralyzed traffic. Indians react to the rain peacefully, I feel they slowly walk to shelter themselves. Same rain in Europe would have masses of people stomping through the streets.
Bangalore feels too westernized for my taste. Huge malls and acute consumerism. I fled these injection of cosmo areas and found a refuge in South Indian crowded restos and tasting Pani Puri the real way: in the street.
Pani Puri is a kind of snack very common all over India. It is basically crispy bread stuffed with potato and vegetables seasoned with mint sauce. Beautiful simplicity. You are supposed to put the whole mix bread+sauce all into your mouth. I can't, which implies a lot of spilling and foreign-tourist embarrassment.
Back in Thanjavur I am out of sleep. Why, why, why? why is there always an snoring person sleeping by my side during train rides? Last night's was the trumpet man. First I had an argument with one guy. I finished my dinner and put the wrap paper of my appam and the plastic bag that contained my samosa in one corner of my cabin bed. MY BED. The guy below my bunk bed asked me to throw the plastic through the window. I refused. He insisted. I refused once more. He said that the train would smell. I answered: I wish the train could smell like my dinner indeed. He went to bed. I felt I won an environmental battle at the price of being a little bit offensive, though. So, after this heroic and heated dialog across cultures it was time to go to bed.
One, two, three. I am in my bed all ready to sleep...when dadadada...random guy in the bunk bed across mine starts snoring like an enraged dinosaur. Why, why, why? I waited for almost 2 hours hoping the buddy would change posture or something. I tried all the noises that are supposed to help in those cases (clicking teeth, little songs). I even considered stopping one of the policeman going up and down and asking him to put an end to that clear public unrest. Desperate, I woke up, approached him and told him: "Sir, you are going to have to change postures or I am going to have to walk to Thanjavur. Could you please, please try to fall asleep after I do? (this is the secret with snorers)". The outcome was positive. He turned his head and peace was back to my train cabin.
I have been traveling long distances by train during the last weeks. Apart from the above incidents and smells, Indian trains are good indeed. At least in terms of punctuality.
Bangalore feels too westernized for my taste. Huge malls and acute consumerism. I fled these injection of cosmo areas and found a refuge in South Indian crowded restos and tasting Pani Puri the real way: in the street.
Pani Puri is a kind of snack very common all over India. It is basically crispy bread stuffed with potato and vegetables seasoned with mint sauce. Beautiful simplicity. You are supposed to put the whole mix bread+sauce all into your mouth. I can't, which implies a lot of spilling and foreign-tourist embarrassment.
Back in Thanjavur I am out of sleep. Why, why, why? why is there always an snoring person sleeping by my side during train rides? Last night's was the trumpet man. First I had an argument with one guy. I finished my dinner and put the wrap paper of my appam and the plastic bag that contained my samosa in one corner of my cabin bed. MY BED. The guy below my bunk bed asked me to throw the plastic through the window. I refused. He insisted. I refused once more. He said that the train would smell. I answered: I wish the train could smell like my dinner indeed. He went to bed. I felt I won an environmental battle at the price of being a little bit offensive, though. So, after this heroic and heated dialog across cultures it was time to go to bed.
One, two, three. I am in my bed all ready to sleep...when dadadada...random guy in the bunk bed across mine starts snoring like an enraged dinosaur. Why, why, why? I waited for almost 2 hours hoping the buddy would change posture or something. I tried all the noises that are supposed to help in those cases (clicking teeth, little songs). I even considered stopping one of the policeman going up and down and asking him to put an end to that clear public unrest. Desperate, I woke up, approached him and told him: "Sir, you are going to have to change postures or I am going to have to walk to Thanjavur. Could you please, please try to fall asleep after I do? (this is the secret with snorers)". The outcome was positive. He turned his head and peace was back to my train cabin.
I have been traveling long distances by train during the last weeks. Apart from the above incidents and smells, Indian trains are good indeed. At least in terms of punctuality.
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