Varalotti Goes Abroad - Part 2 (With Pictures)

Every time I go out of my country I learn so many things. The paradox is that I learn many things about my home and my country whenever I go out of it.

I also learn a lot about myself. Having lived with myself for 53 years (do I have a choice there? And if only I had, I would have quit for a better person) I am still surprised to find out hitherto unknown parts of myself.

“The advantage of going to moon,” said Neil Armstrong, “is not that you can see the moon; but that you can see your own earth from afar.”

Our egos trick us into believing that there is only one way of doing things – be it eating, relating or even answering the calls of nature – and that’s our way.

If at all we learn about the ways followed by others we tend to think they are less civilized. Isn’t our culture several thousand years old?

I had to work with an Indian in an office in the US a few years ago. The office had western toilets and had nothing but a roll of toilet tissues. There was no pipe or mug in the toilet.

My colleague who had to go to the restroom was offended. He blamed the entire West for their lack of culture. ‘They don’t even have water in their toilets.

Where’s the world heading to?’ He had to beg, borrow and steal styrofoam cups and Pepsi cups to carry water.
The Americans were not affected by his remarks. Every time he had to visit the toilet his BP would shoot up.

I adapted to their way of doing things on the very first day and found that there were pros and cons in both the methods.

And then a deep realisation dawned on me. We travel abroad and are shocked to see people doing things “the wrong way.” Slowly we find that they are just different. We know that simply because they have a different way of using their toilets they are not bad people.

The differences are only superficial. Deep down when it comes to love, family, marriage, children and money we are all the same. The skin tone may be different. But the colour of the blood is always red. Well, the differences are literally skin-deep.

Sorry for this long prelude. But without it you can’t appreciate the point I am going to make.

Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, is the worst when it comes to traffic snarls. The vehicles inch through the roads so slowly that many times snails would overtake us. Jakarta’s population is 12 million.

These 12 million people have 6 million cars, an average of one car for every two persons. And it shows. And hurts as well.

We had to go for lunch to a hotel at the other end of the city. The lunch would close by 3PM. It was part of the package.

If we miss it then we may have to pay in millions (remember the last blog about the value of Indonesian currency, Rupiah) even for a simple lunch.

We started driving for lunch around a quarter to one and thought we could reach the place in 30 minutes because it was just about 7 kilometres away. But it took us more than two hours.

We reached the hotel with just about 20 minutes to spare. Our team was so efficient in devouring the food arranged in a beautiful buffet or whatever was left of it within the given time

It was only when we drove out to our next destination did I notice something strange. Yes, the road was full of vehicles. In some places the roads were quite narrow.

The traffic signals were the ultimate test to human patience. And yet I could not even hear the sound of a single car horn. Given the same situation in Chennai one can continuously hear the honking sound.

My friend even suggested a design change to the horns. When you are in traffic the horns should be continuously blaring. You should press it only when you want to stop the sound.

Road rage in India has been accepted as part of our normal behaviour. Even otherwise responsible persons shout profanities while in the grip of road rage.

Yours truly is not an exception to the rule but only a forceful application of it. (Not the responsible person part, but the shouting profanities part)

But in Jakarta traffic congestion has been gracefully accepted as part of life. If somebody’s late for an appointment nobody gets irritated.

Every one drives with a smile. Even if one is stuck in the middle of nowhere the smile does not disappear.

That reminded me of the most powerful quote I have ever come across. This one is by Auden. “Pain is universal. Suffering is optional.”

We in Chennai and Bangalore have the same kind of pain. But we have made a deliberate choice to suffer more. We shout at the other drivers, blare our horns, utter profanities, make the lives of others miserable, and in the process making ours even more so.

I have never been enamoured by foreign objects. Every time I come back from a foreign trip I walk through the green channel.

The Customs Officials see my face and never even ask me the fundamental questions. I never carry anything from abroad.

But this time I wanted to carry something. I was even ready to pay a huge import duty if the Indian Customs demanded.

And that’s the attitude of Jakartans towards their traffic.

The secret of maintaining a Buddha-like pose even if they are late for a crucial appointment by four hours.

 

Dear Saras,
to tell you the truth I felt a little hypocritical while writing this blog, for my road rage is notorious in our family circles. But I have of late mellowed down a little. Otherwise on 28th March 2011 I would not have asked for the other guy's pardon. (Refer my blog on this subject)

The other day when a driver shouted at me to pass through a narrow gap and I refused he started calling names.
I pulled down my shutters and told him,
"Sir you are a very experienced driver whereas I am just an amateur. You can go through this narrow gap. But how can I?"
He smiled at me, saluted me and went about his way.

I was not into any kind of water sports. In those countries a life belt is mandatory if you are going on a boat ride. And I thought I would appear more comic with the life belt on that without it.
thanks for being the first.
love,
sridhar

 

thanks a lot, vjb,
sridhar