New Year, new places, new boxers (maybe)

New Years Eve, another year. I suppose I should recap or reflect on the year ahead, no? But I’m not going to discuss what happened to the world, we all know what went on.

For me, this is the year I finished college, the year I started Vjing, the year I worked as an archaeologist (as well as the year I did my first commercial dig). It’s the Summer I lived finally with all the lads, the year I’ve been in a mosque, the year I’ve been at an Indian wedding (two in fact!), the year I started this blog! It’s most importantly the year I’ve finally come to India to work and live, following heart and mind. It’s also the year I’ve surfed least, the year I’ve moved away from all my family and friends and Ireland; whose wet, cold shores I do for some reason miss!

What a year, no? Looking forward to the next (maybe a little more settled and chilled out).We are probably going to go out for a meal tonight and celebrate new years at someones house, or if we’re lucky Natasha, a friend of Gayle’s may be able to sort us out with her terrace. I don’t mind either, but I think I have work tomorrow so that’s gonna be a bit annoying. We’ll see, maybe it is a day-off, but seeing as I have Goa next week it doesn’t seem I can just ask for a day off.

Well, it’s nearly lunchtime, I’ll see you next year. Here’s a picture that may interest you. It’s what I’ve been working on this week. It’s the Mihrab of Juma Masjid (an arch that is the focus on the wall facing Mecca.) I cut out all the pieces and coloured them one bit at a time. It’s taken 5 days to do this. The idea is that the heavy concentration of gold at the Mihrab will allow a greater focus on the direction of Mecca and can also play up the idea of light spilling through the arc from Mecca. It’s inspired by a mosque in Malaysia who uses this colour scheme. I want to take it one step more and add a bit more symbolism to the painting. But we’ll have to see if it’s cost-effective. Gold leaf may be a bit expensive!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Congrads Suppi & Dolly!

Congrads Suppi & Dolly!

Morning, just got into work. Had mighty fun last night at Shiro’s (mentioned in an earlier blog) with loads of Gayle’s friends, especially noting the presence of Suppi and his wife, Dolly! Their wedding was this weekend and the party started on friday and isn’t finishing up till this evening, with a final reception to which some 400 people I’m told are invited. Friday there was the Chunni (am I spelling this right?) ceremony, which is sort of a formal party where the two families officially meet. That was great fun, lots of music dancing and drinking. Suppi at the Gurdwara
Used all I learnt from Rajat & Odisha’s wedding to great effect! Indian dancing is all about the shoulders, get them right and then it’s just a matter of variation and finger pointing. It’s basically a shrug with a bit more bounce and done to fast dance music. Basic move is to raise your hands in the air and just shrug away to the beat. Mixing this up you can wave your hands about, put your hands forward like Frankenstein (Adi used this one a lot) or simply point in random directions. Remember to shrug those shoulders though. My favourite filmy move (filmy is a descriptive term for something from a bollywood movie), which I learnt at the chunni, is to put you hand in your shirt over our heart, then ‘beat’ your hand in imitation of a heart beat. Very very cheesy but it got a load of laughs.
I find it amazing that one of the funniest things is seeing a foreigner doing something locals do or acting like one. Like when Gayle would say Cork slang or when I use Bombay slang, it’s always met with laughter.
The next day, after partying till 4 in the morning, I had work. But give me credit, I got in on time and finished my work early. The morning train ride was a bit of a blur but at least I didn’t have to pay attention, just sit back and wait till everyone gets off, indicating the end of the line. Then in the evening we had an informal party at Suppi’s and we all danced to some Indian drums then chilled, drank and ate till all hours, though this time we left early, as the main event was the next morning, and missing that would have probably meant a slow and agonising death at the hands of Suppi!

Suppi & his family (From left Mum, Brother, Father, u, & lil' Cousins)
But we were very good and arrived well early the next day, so early Suppi hadn’t even got ready by the time we came. He had the most amazing gold dress on (his suit from the night before was awesome too). There was a little ceremony at the house, a blessing before the wedding, and then we all drove to the Gurdwara (Sikh Temple).

Gayle looking lluuurvely - notice she's covered her head, we all had to to get into the Gurdwara.

Because we were short on time we only had a 15 minute Bharat (remember those?) and then into the temple (I’m not too sure you can call it a temple but no ones told me otherwise) for the wedding.
Before that there was a breakfast with starters to die for they were so tasty and then the wedding ceremony itself started. Unfortunately this was when we had to leave as two friends from England were arriving and we had promised to pick them up. It was just bad luck that the wedding was actually in the morning rather than evening which we had expected.

Arriving at the Gurdwara

But we got to see Suppi and Dolly sit together in front of the priest (not too sure what a sikh priest is called) and the start of the ceremony. Dolly too had the most amazing dress on. One of the things I like most about Indian weddings is the free use of colour there. None of this white wedding dress and black and white formals. Colour rules these parties. Sadly, Karl also had to leave as his granddad has been very sick and had taken a turn for the worst that morning, so sad. His okay as far as I know still but is till in a serious condition.

Adi, Karl, Self, Jeet and Vishal in Traditional Indian Dress (except for Karl)

Suppi is, as I’ve said, Sikh (as is Dolly). But how many of you know what a Sikh is? There are 1,200 Sikhs in Ireland (the 20th largest in the world supposedly) and they are definitely the most identifiable of the Indian cultures. You all probably know them, they are the guys wearing the turbans and the big beards. I’ve seen a few around Cork, there must be at least a dozen families there. Sikkhism is a monotheistic religion and is quite old (400years). It’s based around the teachings of 10 successive Gurus. Each Guru has contributed to Sikhism, such as when religious practise was formalized by Guru Gobind Singh in 1699. Sikhism are based primarily in North India, in a region known as Punjab. This region is divided as half lies in Pakistan, but more on that later.
Hisotrically, Sikhism has had an amibcable relationship with other religions, and during the Sikh Empire of 1799 to 1849 many Muslims, Christians and Hindus played important roles in the empire. The Sikh Empire was brought to end by the British after the death of Maharajah Ranjit Singh's in 1839, when the empire was severely weakened by internal divisions and political mismanagement.
The Partition of India and Pakistan in 1947 is a very sore point in Sikh history. It saw heavy conflict in the Punjab between Sikh and Muslim, which saw the effective religious migration of Punjabi Sikhs from West Punjab which mirrored a similar religious migration of Punjabi Muslims in East Punjab. The Movie Partition is quite a good record of what happened [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Partition_(film)] detailing the violence that occurred at the time and the religious tension it created.
Communal tensions between Sikhs and Hindus arose in the late 1970s, fueled by Sikh claims of discrimination and marginalization by the Hindu dominated Indian National Congress ruling party and the "dictatorial" tactics adopted the then Indian Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi. As a reaction against these actions the Sikh politican Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale vocalized the Sikh sentiment for justice and advocated the creation of a Sikh homeland, Khalistan. Gandhi's 1984 action to defeat Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale led to desecration of the Golden Temple in Operation Bluestar.

The Golden Temple
Operation Bluestar is to Sikhs, what Bloody Sunday is to the Irish. (1920 & 1972) Operation Blue Star (June 3 to June 6, 1984) was an Indian military operation ordered by Indira Gandhi, the then Prime Minister of India, to remove Sikh separatists who were amassing weapons in the Golden Temple in Amritsar, one of the earliest Gurdwaras in Sikh History. Militarily successful, it is considered to be a political disaster and an un-precedented act in modern Indian history. Official reports put the number of deaths among the Indian army at 83 and the number of civilian deaths at 492, though independent estimates ran much higher.
The impact of the military assault, its aftermath and the increased tensions led to assaults on members of the Sikh community within India and uproar amongst Sikhs worldwide. In India, many Sikhs resigned from armed and civil administrative office and returned their government awards. Revenge for the desecration of the Sikh shrine was pledged by some in the Sikh community, resulting in the assassination of Indira Gandhi by her Sikh bodyguards on 31 October 1984.
Since 1984, relations between Sikhs and Hindus have reached a rapprochement helped by growing economic prosperity.
Today Sikhs number around 25million people worldwide, the majority of whom reside in India, most being from the state of Punjab. The biggest Sikh populations worldwide are in UK (330thousand), Canada (278thousand) and the US (100,000), with sizeable numbers across Asia and Europe. Sikhs do not actively convert so their growth is mainly internal, though there are a number of converts in the US.

Three of the 5 K's, The dagger, the comb and the iron ring.
So why do Sikhs wear turbans, and why was it so controversial for a Sikh in the Garda reserve to be asked to remove his turban? It all boils down to the Five Ks, or panj kakaar/kakke, which are five articles of faith that all baptized Sikhs (Khalsa) are required to wear at all times, as commanded by the tenth Sikh Guru, who so ordered on the day of Baisakhi Amrit Sanskar in 1699. Each of these represent some aspect of Sikhism and is to remind a Sikh of his faith. They are a comb, uncut hair, a small sword, boxers (I’m serious) and an Iron ring.
It is important to understand that all the symbols that make a fully baptized Sikh's appearance so distinctive are optional to "slow-adopter" Sikhs. These individuals believe in the principles of Sikhism and identify as Sikh but have not yet decided they are ready to make the commitment to become baptized. Many Sikhs never become fully baptized in their lives; it seems to be more an option of devotion rather than a necessity. Sikhs wear turbans to make their hair more manageable, and is seen as an article of faith in itself. A Sikh’s hair without a turban can reach down past his knees.
Sikhs are also very militaristic and their regiment in the Indian army has won more awards than others, in fact they make up some 20% of the Indian armies officers. During the first and second world war they fought in Italy, France and North Africa and won 14 Victoria crosses and numerous other awards for valour, an impressive achievement.
I’m gonna stop now, this blog has become a bit too much and I think I’ve given enough info to at least inform you of the basics of Sikhism. Visit Wikipedia, they have loads more if you’re interested. Also here’s the link to the Irish Council of Sikhs (Yes, we have one) www.irishsikhcouncil.com They often go to events to show their martial prowess.

Sikhs during WW2

Sikhs in British Army during second Afghan War

Sikh Symbol (like Christians Cross)

The christmas day experience

Merry Christmas Everyone! Back at work, yes it’s true. No St. Stephen’s day recuperation for me! Although I did get into work late as I was determined to have a relaxed morning. Brought cake leftovers form the party yesterday as a peace offering for the late arrival. Was met with lots of appreciation.
So Christmas has come and gone. So strange, I had a lovely time yesterday but I missed Ireland lots. The walk (yes even the walk) and the fire and the giving of gifts. I think, though it may be a sign of our more material culture, present giving is a lot more important in Ireland, or maybe it’s just that I was with a family who’s all grown up and present giving is not half as important as it was. I definetly missed to present giving at our house. What we do is give everyone one present at a time. One for me, then hugh, then john, etc. It makes it all the more exciting as you have to wait for your next present. I know a lot of families the present opening is as soon as you wake up but we always wait till we are all up and ready and it’s either just before and just after Christmas lunch.
A cold Christmas is another thing I miss, though with recervations. It’s nice to escape the cold and settle in front of a fire and wear warm clothing and see snow on the mountains. But it’s also nice not to be frozen the moment you get out of the house, having to wait for the heating (thank god for Agas) and then get drenched in the snow/rain/slush. It’s nice to wear a t-shirt and shorts and sunglasses on Christmas day! Although now my keenness for an open fire has been replace with a burning desire for the A/C and Fan on.
The strangest thing about Christmas here is that there’s hardly anyone else celebrating with you. Our friends came over, they aren’t Christian, and looking outside the window you see people living their normal lives, taking advantage of the state holiday for a minority religious occasion.
Christmas a little dummed down due to the attacks and many churches didn’t have services or carols, both in respect for those that died and for fear of another attack. In fact there was a threat on the church services in the city at 12 midnight on Christmas eve, but nothing came of it and there was a great police presence there.

Anyway, I was going to go about Pakistan and the whole India-Pakistan situation, but seeing as it’s Christmas I won’t. but you have been warned I will return to that topic in the near future!
Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Christmas Eve & Christians in India

Merry Christmas eve everyone. Still working though, India only has the day off for Christmas, just like any other religious holiday. Means, combined with moving house I haven’t had a chance to even properly go out and buy presents until yesterday (When I got home it was nearly 9 in the evening). This means Ireland won’t be receiving presents for a few days until after Christmas, my bad? Got back and got straight into tidying the house (The D’souzas) and sleep, now back at work. Bit draining, but poor Gayle is at home tidying the house with her mum (and I hope from her brother) and she hurt her back shifting heavy things around, so I can’t complain. Told her to take it easy today but I doubt she will. There is still loads to do. Still haven’t got any Christmas buzz inside me, more worried about having to ask my boss for a week off in Jan for Goa. Would love St. Stephen’s day off too but I don’t think that’s going to happen.

Think I will go to a big store and buy some things for Gayle’s stocking today, might take a cab to one this evening. I’m just going to take the D’souzas out to a posh restaurant for Christmas and I’m getting Gayle a…. wait she might check the blog today so I won’t say. Will tell you when she gets it. Christmas day, tomorrow is going to be hectic, some 30 people coming, so goodbye any idea of relaxing tomorrow. Plus we have Suppi’s wedding this weekend. Still can’t believe he’s getting married. It’s seems so strange to think of friends getting married. Wish him well, though.

Anyway, though I’d talk a little bit about Christians in India, as it’s Christmas. There are 24milllion Christians in India, mainly distributed to the south and far east side of the country. In all they make up 2.3% of the Indian population and are present in nearly all strands of life. I think this is one of the most suprising things I tell people in Ireland about India, most are surprised when I tell them Gayle is Catholic, and even more so when I tell them how many there are here. Around 70% of Christians in India are Roman Catholics and the rest mainly Protestants and Orthodox.

What is most interesting is the history of Christianity here. Although, the exact origins of Christianity in India remain unclear, it is generally agreed that Christianity in India is almost as old as Christianity itself and spread in India even before it spread in many, predominantly Christian, nations of Europe. Most credit St. Thomas as the apostle who went to India when they divided the world up, though other sources say traders from Mesopotamia brought it with the. When the colonial powers arrived they brought with them their own brand of Christianity (the English Protestantism and the Portugues, Catholicism.) Though many were conversions proceeding this time were voluntary, sometimes they were coerced, especially when the Poruguese brought the Inquisiton to Goa. This was because many converted Indians were opportunistic Rice Christians, who even practiced their old religion. However, this really is the only blot on Christianity’s history in the subcontinent, though modern conflicts have arisen, with stories of aggressive conversion campaigns in some states by missionaries, straining Christian relations with the other Indian religions.

There is even two distinct accounts of Jesus travelling through India. According to the first set of accounts, Jesus traveled and studied in India between the ages of twelve and thirty. According the second set of accounts, Jesus did not die on the cross, but after his apparent death and resurrection he journeyed to Kashmir to teach the gospel, and then remained there for the rest of his life. Both however are unproven, and come mainly from sources in the 19^th Century. But there’s no proof against it. The Bible does say Jesus travelled East in his early years and a lot of his philosophy is quite similar to Hinduism and Buddhism.

Goa is one of the bigger populations on the Konkan coast (the west coast of India) and was the main area of Portuguese power in India. Indeed, Goa was actually independent of India, under Portuguese rule till the 1960s I believe, when an impatient India invaded Goa and declared it a new state in India. This was not a bloody affair and the Portuguese left without a fight. Goa is home to the largest cathedral in Asia, which strangely exists in the middle of nowhere, an hour drive from the Capital of Goa, Pamaji.This is because the capital was moved dude to TB epidemic (I think TB) and most of the buildings were taken down and moved to the coastline. So when you go to Goa, to go to the old city you drive into the country and end up in this strange monastery style place with huge buildings (around three cathedrals and large official buildings). In fact what is reminds me of is a Christian styling of those ruined Hindi temple-cities! St Francis Xavier’s body is here, who’s body has not recomposed and is on view to this day. An funny/gross story about St Francis’s body is that a few years ago, when his body was on display, a woman claiming to be his descendent bit off his big toe to take a bit of the saint’s body back to her home. She was stopped from stealing the toe, though the bite remains!

Architectural styles of churches are mainly in two strands, from British influenced Gothic (and Indo-Sarcenic) to the Portuguese style Baroque. Bellow is the Afghan Church (commemorating soldiers who died in the First Afghan War of 1838.) Interestingly, the company I'm working for (KN ARCON) was involved it's recent restoration. The other is the Basilica of Bom Jesus, the oldest church in Goa (1695) and is a world heritage monument. This is the rsting place of St Francis Xavier, who resideds in a silver casket inside a wing of the Basilica.

St. Xavier's remains.

Today, Christians can be seen in all strands of life and many practice Hindu traditions such as Diwali and Holi. I know we did in the D’souza household. In fact it isn’t unusual to see a taxi driver driving around with a picture of Jesus alongside an icon of Ganesh, though this is also to do with the Hinduism’s general pick-and-mix approach to worship! In Bombay, Bandra is the main centre of Christias, with lots of churches located there.I t's where i went for christmas charols and it's where you'll see the most amount of dceorations up in Bombay. That’s all I have time for, must get back to work now.

Merry Christmas all!

NO MAID!

Okay this is a bit mean, I just think it's such a good "english in India" picture.

The maid is gone! She got fired yesterday so what to do? And I know all you Irish people are going “SO?” but so close to Christmas it’s a bit awkward. Anyway now we have to do all the housework (Mum I know you’re smiling!) and prepare for Christmas. And we are all working jobs that mean we don’t get back till 8pm. And to top it all off Hyacinth has just got a really bad case of food poisoning and is being minded by poor old Gayle. I couldn’t stay back as I want ask for a week off for Jan and I’m a bit worried they’ll get all odd about it, as I’ve missed a good few days now, thanks to sickness and trips. But what can I do? The hotel is booked and I’m really looking forward to relaxing on the beach in Goa, drinking a nice cold beer.
Still trying to colour that damn mosque, driving me nuts now. Bellow is the night and day version of the ‘historically accurate’ colour scheme; using greens, white and gold with new stained glass windows and lighting.
Night
Day

Going back to the maid issue, I think this needs clarification. Maids, or Bai’s [sounds like a cork person saying Boy] as they are called in India (that’s for women, a male servant is a Pune [sound like rune]). They work and sleep In our houses and nearly everyone has one. In a country of such contrasting economic positions it is definitely one of the closest to home. They are servants (though I really can’t use that word, can’t get used to saying it, I stick with Bai) and they get paid quite miniscule amounts (in comparison to the pay of the family they work for, though quite a substantial sum in comparison to where they are from (usually the countryside). And usually they are the younger daughters of families who can’t afford the dowry for her. Sometimes the only two options for them is prostitution or become a maid. So they leave and come work in the big city. Either way the family gets some money (selling children can happen often in poor areas where desperate families will sell some of their children so that they have enough money so that they can survive.)

The relationship between employer and employee though is a hot-zone of trouble. I’ve heard stories of people who will shout at their bai’s and are exteremely rude to them for the smallest thing. The Bai’s themselves are not all blameless and it’s not unsusal to hear of a friend of a firend who’s been robbed by their maid. Actually one of out neighbour’s employed a maid who had a record of this and they only managed to find out on time before she robbed a load of stuff. So bad. I’m not an expert on Bai’s so I hope I didn’t get anything too wrong in this little blog, suffice to say that the D’souza were not horrible to their maid, in fact they were unusually nice to her and polite. This maid (Amita) just was being a [female dog].

Christmas is coming?

Hi all, unfortunately I haven’ been able to update the blog much in the last few days as I’ve been on site, we’ve been analysing the colour scheme of the mosque and it seems to have been a green shade with dark green highlights and a small bit of gold trimming. I think we may sway the client in this direction if we spin it right. I’m going for it so long as we use gold paint to highlight the place, cause if we don’t it’ll look way too green, though this is a mosque, there’s possibly some rule that you can never have TOO much green. More luck or something.

Was at Clement and Annabelle’s choral night, quite a sight. A whole lane blocked with seats everywhere, more than 200 there easy and lots of bands from the city and Goa playing Christmas music. Plus they had a big sound system too! Madness. Unfortunately I couldn’t take pics as the camera ran out of juice. I was missing Christmas in Ireland and it cheered me right up. Honestly, Goan’s are basically Irish people who’ve seen a bit too much sun to be good for them! They drink lots, are a friendly, chilled out bunch of people, know how to have a party and are all Catholic. Sound Irish enough?


But I’m not going to talk about Goa right now, that place deserves a whole series of blogs!



Christmas here is weird, not weird as in strange things happen. It’s just strange for me. I can’t really get used to the idea of wearing shorts, sandals and a t-shirt on a Christmas day while its plus 30degrees outside and there is spicy food on the table. John sent me a facebook message telling me what he was up to, sounded just about right. Watching tv as a big fire roars and eating lovely home food. Mmmm. But the food here is too good, and I can’t wait to have Danma’s Christmas steak and stuffing again. It rocks. I’m hoping we order a chicken or turkey so I can make chicken & potato ring. My mouth is watering with all this talk of victuals.

Watched Tropic Thunder last night, great show. Totally enjoyed it, simply because the crazy realisation that Tom Cruise was in this movie and he starts doing a full-on hip hop dance routine. Hilarious. And Robert Downey Junior’s character, while not essentially comedic is so funny for who he is, a white blue-eyed Australian who changes skin colour to become black to play the part of a black American! Has to be seen to be understood.

All the colours of a Mosque

Today is the day I buy a MIDI keyboard, ooooh yeah. I’m off to the music shop hopefully around 5 if I’m lucky and then taxi back, I’m not risking my brand new keyboard on the Bombay trains! So today I am studying colour and Islam, in the hopes of understanding what colours to paint the mosque plasterwork. We (the conservationists) want a lime based paint, to allow the building to breath, but our client wants to use modern paints. We’ve compromised with painting the outside lime based and the inside modern, so that at least one side is breathable, although the client says that modern paints are just as breathable. Just remember folks, if you live in an old building, let it breath, ie. allow moisture to freely move through it and evaporate from its surface.

So how to colour a mosque, remember that there is only geometric and natural patterns here as no physical representation of anyone or any creature may adorn a mosque. Firstly. the colour green is very important in Islam as it represents life and was said to be Allah’s favourite colour. In Islamic culture green and gold are the colors of paradise.

If you look at a lot of pics of mosques you will see green in them. Green however, is actually part of a symbolic code in colours for Islam. The four colours most important in Islam is red, yellow, green and blue. Red is fire, yellow is the air, green is water and blue is the earth. Above these though is white, black and Sandalwood (brown). White is the light of the sun, received as a manifestation of divine power which allows the colours to flow forth. Black is part of the divine emanation (the origin of all things out of the unchanging completeness of divine unity), a part of a divine quality which withdraws and hides itself (God hides in his own radiance). Black thus symbolises the destruction of the self as the prerequisite for reintegration. The third colour is sandalwood, the colourless earth and the neutral basis on which nature (the system is explained below in the system of four colours) and the polar properties of white and black take effect. So many mosques can be seen painted in these colours, many with coloured tiles, paintwork on flat plaster or paintwork on decorative plaster.

I have written a suggestion that they ask some art historians and painters to get a better Idea; I myself am suggesting dark rich colours revolving around the gold/green ideal. Here’s a few pics as examples.

You take the high road and I'll eat Chikki

Hello all, I’m back. Sorry I haven’t been updating in the last few days, couldn’t be helped. Was up in Lonavla at my friend Suppi’s bachelor party. Came home early yesterday so that I didn’t miss too much work. Had a great time, though I bruised my knee as I tripped over a small wire fence there. Lonavla is up in the Ghat mountains, on top of a plateau in between Pune and Bombay. It’s about a 2 hour drive up steep mountain passes along a dangerous highway (not just because it’s very steep up in the mountains but India being India, one has to share the road with dangerous drivers.

A lot of crashes happen from speeding, sleeping on the wheel and dangerous driving (like cutting the inside lane then slowing down rapidly in front of other car). But with a competent driver at the wheel, mishaps like these can be avoided. Lonavla is a small town (about the size of mallow by my guess) and is used mainly as a retreat destination by both people from Pune & Bombay. It’s famous for it’s Chikki, a sort of dried fruit bar, and it’s fudge, which is a sticky sweet tooth destroyer. Nearly every shop supplies it, so there are loads to choose from. Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be able to send any home as it’s restricted under the fruit/vegetable laws.


Must go, have to research colours to use in a mosque. I’m thinking dark royal colours (based around Green as that is a holt colour for Islam) with some light colours to contrast.

Toilets and VGA cables

Hello all! Well I have loads to tell you today, so the history lesson will be curtailed till another time. Maybe this evening if I get really bored!


On Saturday Suppi's cousin Raj came to visit for his Suppi's wedding. He's a big party animal and so we decided to go out to Blue frog, a place I've talked about before. Went there, pretty bland house though not terrible, but very expensive and the crowd was a little dull. So we decided to to go to a club called Shiro's, which is as the pictures show bellow, amazing. It's a huge warehouse style place with high ceilings and tall statues of buddha and loads of cool lights and candles. Bit loungey (the dj was stuck in a corner out of the way) and just as expensive. Cool place though, wil definelty return.
Here's a small video on the place put up by some review website.


Well yesterday was the first day in our new house. We moved in Sunday and even though I had an uncomfortable sleep (mosquito bites and a loud fan) it was so nice to wake up in my own place. I’ll take pictures when it’s all done up and post them here. It has some strange features. No shower so we’re using the old bucket and jug method. Just as clean without using half the water. Also the toilet is some sort of fusion between western style and asian style. It’s a western style toilet with large lids so that, if one were so inclined, you can stand on the lids and squat Indian style. Sounds gross but trust me it’s actually not that uncomfortable and much more hygienic than western ones, as you never touch the surface which is a blessing in most toilets on the subcontinent. There’s another strange thing (at least strange for foreigners) about toilets. I remember my first visit here, I was quite puzzled by the bucket and jug that was in every person’s toilet. Of course this was explained to me as the old’ bucket, jug hand cleaning method for your arse.

Naturally I was a little disgusted at first but over the times I’ve been here I have had to resort to the method, and in fairness, so long as you thoroughly wash your hands after you actually clean yourself up much more than paper could. In fact sometimes I look at the amount of paper we use in Ireland, just to wipe our arses. And it begs the statement that, “when the last tree is cut down, and the last flower blossomed, it is only then that we realise that money is a terrible replacement for toilet paper.” This reminds me of the movie Demolition man, when Sylvester Stallone’s (have you ever actually read his name, if he wasn’t a movie star it’d be hilarious.) character is de-iced to fight bad guys but at one point he has to go use the toilet. He comes out and is like, “you’ve run out of toilet paper in there” to the other policemen to which they all burst out laughing exclaiming “he doesn’t know how to use the shells? Hahahahaha” To this day I have no idea what they mean by ‘using the shells, but it’s true, what are we going to do to wipe our arse when there is flying cars, teleporters and robots in our world. Tesco hyper value toilet laser paper?

Now I’ve grossed you all out enough I think, now to other news. I’ve finally managed to sort myself out with a gig in Bombay. Got a call yesterday after lunch that some people I’ve been getting to know are having a night in a club in Bandra called…..wait for it……H2O, the liquid lounge. Now most will not get that, let me explain. There is a Liquid Lounge in Cork too, and I’ve done quite a bit of work there, it’s definitely the best night music wise in Cork and I used to go there all the time. In fact I saw another liquid lounge off in the suburbs. It seems that liquid lounge is just a very popular term, it does sound cool. The liquiiid lounge. Though heaven knows how some ghats pronounce it “the leeequeeed longey” probably.
Ghat is basically cultchie, the Ghats being the mountains all along the west Coast of India. So if you’re a Ghat, your basically being called a mountain dweller. Jungli is another one. Basically you’re of the jungle. Both terms I get called a lot. ;)

So anyway, I was very keen to work on visuals with these guys, and was all packed up in no time, though unfortunately I hadn’t bought my MIDI keyboard yet, so I was still using my laptop keyboard. Anyway I got there a wee bit late, had so much of work to do on the house. Unfortunately the projector they had was only set up for the DVD player and they hadn’t planned on me needing a 6 metre long VGA cable (basically a 6m version of the cable that connects your computer to the monitor. So in the end we decided that I wouldn’t do visuals and that the cable would be ordered for next week, I’m ordering one too, to avoid this situation again. I’m also putting windows XP on my comp so that the programs run with a bit more stability. So hopefully in 2 weeks time I’ll be making a bit of money from this and with a nice working laptop. They were really cool guys and were so friendly, met this guy whose been teaching deejaying for a decade in workshops and stuff, so hopefully I’m gonna get a few tips and lessons from him in the next few months.
So that’s all the news. Back in the office now and I have to write a paper on plasterwork restoration work, going to become an expert by time I’m done!

A history of Bombay/Mumbai part1

Just had a ‘street food’ sandwich (I miss Irish sandwiches though). Hope I survive! Eating here is a wee bit stressful, you always have to watch what you’re eating, at least I do anyway. No raw vegetables (which I just broke with that sandwich), and no water that’s not bottled or filtered. Probably drinking better water than I do at home! Makes you realise that we are so lucky to be able to drink the water from our taps. In china they have a separate tap for drinking water. Seems strange to think of a sink with two taps!
Right now I’m just chilling at work, learning Autocad and playing around on photoshop, oh and working too. Can’t spend too long on the internet as they get charged by the download. In India 2mb speeds are a luxury and are offset by paid for downloads. Most have 512mb speeds with unlimited download. But it’s like dial-up sometimes. It…..is….so…..frickin…..slow…..
You know what, I’m gonna take this lull in anything happening to write about Bombay’s history. It’s quite interesting. Bombay, or Mumbai (we’ll discuss that later) was started in the mid 17th century when in 1661 the Portuguese, who had a little fort to protect their shipping interests in this region handed over the island to the British as a wedding present. Imagine the receiving of the present.

“Here you go. Thanks, what is it? Oh it’s just and Island off the coast of India. Oh, I had mentioned a diamond tiara hadn’t I? Yeah but you have hundreds of those, this is a whole Island! In India… Big trading area you know? Is there a city attached? No. village? No. Just a small fort surrounded by huge Indian empires. Sounds great…next.”

But in all fairness it was a good deal, as the history of India shows. The city was leased to the British East India Company who quickly made this their seat of power in the region by 1686. Soon Bombay began to grow and grow. The company, fearing an attack, built a huge fort around the city, which now lends itself to the name of Bombay’s city centre: Fort. I work in Fort, the office I work in would have been write against the Fort walls in yonder years. In this time we also see the start of Bombay’s reclamations projects. The map below shows Bombay as it originally was, a series of small islands joined by mangrove marshlands and paddy fields.
It’s interesting to note that lots of the placenames in Bombay; Mahim, Worli & Bandra were originally small fishing villages in the middle of nowhere which as Bombay grew became the area names. Even more interesting still is that these villages still exist, As you drive from Dadar to Mahim you pass one and the Bay is there is full of little fishing boats (as well as garbage and pollution from the city!).
By 1858 Queen Vic had proclaimed herself Queen of India and the company was now not just a merchant group but an arm of the Empire, conquering land and forging and Empire for Britain with Bombay as it’s capital. By 1900 Bombay was one of the biggest and most prosperous cities in the world and was the centre of ocean-going trade between Asia and Europe. Part 2 in the Next blog….what will happen? Will Sharon finally get with Brad? Will Gandhi finally find inner peace and Indian independence? Find out next on thesmilingtree.blogspot.com…

Bellow is a picture of Bombay in 1909 - compare that to a picure of bombay in 2008 bellow it!


View Larger Map

Sleeping on the streets

Ah Kung Fu Panda, what a sweet movie. Saw it last night for the second time, and totally enjoyed it again! The casting is a bit ‘Americans in China’ except for Jackie Chan, whose character hardly talks at all. But the visuals are so cool in it and the action so well shot you don’t that Dustin Hoffman is pretending to be a Kung Fu Master.
Living in India is one hell of a ride. It’s non-stop. Compared with India, Ireland is like a slow, dull-witted tortoise with arthritis. I mean in Cork, if you go out in the streets say 1pm on a Sunday, the city is empty. Even Dublin would be relatively quite at that time. Not so for Bombay, or anywhere I’ve been to in India. There is always someone around. You are never on your own unless you are walking some tiny back alley at 3 in the morning and even then you can’t be too sure, there’s probably a taxi driver sleeping nearby or some homeless guy sleeping in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. That’s another thing I find interesting here, is the ability of Indians to sleep anywhere. The middle of a busy train station, no problem, balanced between to baskets, no problem, lying like a wreck on the side of the street in the backing heat, no problem. Homeless people, (I’m presuming they’re homeless, nobody else would want to sleep on Bombay’s streets.) are everywhere. There are more homeless people in Bombay people than plain people in Ireland I’m sure!
Living here is a real eye opener to life, anyone who’s ever visited here will tell you the same thing. India has energy. They don’t so siestas, they work hard and long hours, they travel crazy distances to work, and they still have the energy to go mad dancing to some mentalist with some drums and a demented oboe.
On a completely different subject, here’s something every aspirant Muslim should have in their favourites/bookmarks, http://www.qiblalocator.com/# It finds out which direction you have to face to face Mecca. Handy for those unexpected situations.

Any other news, any other news. Can’t think of any.
Here’s the possible cover of the final report for the mosque I’m studying.
Nice isn’t it?

Indians on the move

Today has been a pretty dull day, been working on the plasterwork and it’s restoration inside and outside the mosque. Not exactly riveting stuff but it’s not terrible either. Basically I have to discuss what we (the company) have done to restore the mosque’s artistic plasterwork (or stucco if you want to sound cool). I have to detail all the methods tried and why we’ve finalised on using one (steam for those that are interested). It keeps me busy and to be fair they aren’t too demanding on me so I can do it at my own pace. Only gripe is that we work for so long and then it’s a train ride home. The train home is actually the most stressful thing. It’s the reason I end up home stinking of sweat (sometimes not my own!) and exhausted. Yesterday going to Santacruz, a suburb of Bombay) to see Gayle at work and my god. The train was packed, even in first class. I travel first class, which is quite a bit more expensive than 2nd, instead of paying 7 rupees you pay 50rs, but it means that all the weird and dodgy dudes can’t afford to be in your carriage. Sounds elitist but when you ride on these trains yourself, you know what I mean. Besides, 50rs for a 15km journey in one of the biggest cities in the world is pretty cheap still. I have a pass now for the next three months, which makes life a whole lot easier, no queuing (if you’re a squeamish type never queue in India, give up and wait till it’s died down). That’s one thing I’ve come to realise about Indians. They are the nicest people when you meet them. They’ll take you in and fill you with food and drink and go out of their way to help you find something but my god, Indians in motion, that’s another story! Seems to me the moment an Indian needs to be somewhere they’re not a little switch flicks on (or off, depending how you look at it) and they go into some sort of madness. The same guy who’d go out of his way to help you will barge past you walking, cut you without indicating while driving, and push you on the train.

We had a discussion last night on how one could get Indians to use their indicators and we eventually decided the first thing they needed was lanes. There are no lanes in India, the only way to know you’re in the right lane is that you’re not facing oncoming traffic (and even then you can’t be too sure with some drivers) or by the huge concrete dividers they have on some of the main roads. Forget the innocent white line of Ireland! But you know what, it’s great. I really love the mad gung-ho attitude Indians have. Sure Ireland is a lot more pleasant getting on trains, but where is the sense of achievement? When I got off at Santacruz station I was like “Yeah! I got off despite the massive crowd pushing me back in! Yeah!” For me, my train pass is like an honorary citizen of Bombay award. And as sure as eating spuds is Irish, tacking the rush hour train to work is Indian.

here's a little video some guy took of Indians drivig outside his house. THere's no reason they are driving like that. There's no emergency, no alcohol, jsut indians and portable combustion engines.

Moving & Movies

So we are nearly in the house, at long last! We were in Gayle’s grandparent’s house checking out furniture for the house and have picked out a few of the old furniture to adorn the house. We even did a bit of carpentry and restored a nice shelf (we removed the crappy plywood back and put new feet on) and are in the process of sanding down a lovely chair to paint it in a lovely black/white design. I will be sure to post pics when we’ve finished both it and the house.
The house is a very pokey affair, just one room with a tiny balcony and a big enough sink. There is no kitchen, just a shelf with a wash basin in it. Plus it’s on the 4th floor with no lift, wahey! But it’s only 12,000 a month and in Bandra, the nicest part of Bombay, and it’s ours. All three mean it’s brilliant. So looking forward to it, it’s getting a little claustrophobic in the D’souzas, what with Gavin & his friend Richard staying here too for the next few months. So now Gayle is with the movers as they move the furniture up and I hope is sorting out the rentals (fridge, microwave, etc.) as well. I am unfortunately at work (though I had yesterday off; bank holiday) so I can’t be there to help. Hope she doesn’t get too stressed out.
Went to see Dostana (friendship) yesterday, a blockbuster bollywood movie. It’s like the movie ‘when chuck me larry’ only with dance routines and sexier women. The story revolves around two guys who pretend to be gay so as to apply for a couples residencey permit and to live with a hot girl, go figure. But I laughed the whole way through. It’s made by the same director as Kutch Kutch hota hai (those who know THAT movie, will know what I mean) and though the it’s in Hindi, you only lose a small bit of the plot. That’s the best thing about Bollywood, nothings subtle here, and nothings boring. There’s always something mad happening and the over-acting just makes it all the funnier. Plus they have all these white guys dancing in it which makes it all the more surreal (it’s set in Miami).

And the best part is actually watching it in India, because Indians love their Bollywood. You know when a movies good in Ireland when people clap after it. You know it’s amazing if people stand! But in India, everyone whoops, roars, cheers. It’s like a football match. When there’s a tense moment you can here everyone holding their breath! Dostana is Bollywood at it’s best, not that I would ever ever ever tell you Bollywood is good. They’re good because they are so crap.

A Wedding in Allahabad

Hello all, long time no blog. So much to tell you all.
The weekend after last was when I went to Allahabad to go to the wedding of two friends Rajat & Odisha. Took the train up north (will post a pic of how far away it is later), a 12 hour ride in a cramped 3 tier construction. Not for the faint hearted, or the weak stomached. The toilets were so dirty it defies belief, yet I still went in them. It was that or face another 6 hours of pain and cramps! But it was good fun and the time flew as there were 12 of use in one compartment so we all played cards, chatted and read together. The scenery was quite lovely, but you would never guess India is so bloody flat. You know the pictures you get of India, Himalaya-style Mountains or beautiful coasts. But inland, on the Deccan Plateau to be exact, it really is flat, and big (Meath eat your heart out). Man it’s big. For maybe 9 hours of the 12 we were on the train it was completely flat as far as I could tell. And the stations we stopped at, you really got the feeling that if you got off at one of them you really would be in the middle of nowhere, possibly in the most central part of that middle of nowhere (where the train stops), but still possibly further from any big town that I’ve been in my life!


When we arrived in Allahabad, crossing over the Ganges as we did [trust me, it’s huge. Bigger than the Shannon!!! ], we arrived to a big reception from Odisha’s mothers side. Now Odisha’s mum is a High Court judge in Allahabad, the second largest city in Uttar Pradesh, a state in India, and in India this means you’re the big boss. We had armed protection on the train (due to the attacks also) and at every function there was armed guards all over the place. And when I say armed I mean submachine guns and rifles. Funnily enough as we were getting into the rental cars for the drive to the hotel (which Odisha’s mum was putting us up in at her own cost, will explain later) I happened to be the odd one out so I got a car to myself. So imagine, there’s me, obviously a foreigner, in my own car being driven to the hotel! People thought I was some big shot come with everyone! Ha ha ha!

Anyway, so we arrived at the hotel and it was certainly the best in Allahabad (***star). It was on the main street which although it had a Levi jeans store and a dominos pizza takeway didn’t excite me too much, I was truly surprised when I was told that it was the main street. The funniest thing was when we were told later on that day that there was an escalator installed in some mall here, everyone visited the place to try it out!

After we had all settled in, lunch was served and wow what a feast. Now I mentioned before that Odisha’s mum had put us up in the hotel for the wedding, but that isn’t all. She paid for nearly everything! The train, the guards, the food, the hotel, the transport, the ceremonies, the parties, everything! She even bought us each a gift of a silver candle stand, I have it in my house now! I roughly calculate that she must have spent more than 1 crore here. A crore (10,000,000) is around 160,000 euros, though in Irish terms it would be like spending half a million euros. And Rajat’s side spent at least 45 lakh (a lakh is 100,000 rupees) on jewelry etc. as gifts for the bride. Can you imagine! But I think that this was not so different to Ireland past, the girl’s side pays for the wedding and the boy’s side pays for gifts etc. for the bride and her family, to show how prosperous they are. That’s putting it a little blunt but that’s how it was explained to me.

In the evening there was the informal reception and the exchanging of the gifts. This was the party time and man I have never seen such a party, I would even go so far as to say that they partied harder than any Irish wedding I’d ever seen. Certainly the music was a little more livelier than Ireland. We started with traditional Indian music and singing with madly dressed women dancing on the stage. Next came the dj, and to be honest he had a pretty decent set up, pioneers etc! Now it must be mentioned that India has it’s own modern music, even the states have their own music. You won’t find Abba or Queen on this playlist, but songs like Singh Is King, Jaane Kyun, Tu Muskura, all which are quite loud and fast, in true Indian style. I swear I heard a bit of breaks and everything in their! And you won’t find all the kids dancing either. All the old ones will be on the dancefloor too, doing all the moves (every song in India has moves, especially ones from films, which the mainly are) and singing all the words. Great Craic (keep saying that and nobody understands me here!)


But here’s the strangest thing about that night. Walked past this white couple and just happened to catch their eye, so we struck up a conversation, now the music was very loud and I couldn’t quite hear them, but I was saying to myself as I was talking to them “there’s something familiar about their accent” Turns out they’re from Belfast and are living in Allahabad (of all places) for the next few years to learn Hindi! At last I can say, but it is a small world after all! They were very nice and we had a good chat, comparing and contrasting India to Ireland.

The next day, a little drained and hungover from the night before, we had a very chilled morning and lunch, with only a small preparatory ceremony for the groom by his family, blessing him on his wedding day. In the evening, we all assembled and met with Rajat and his family. And wow, he was decked out in the maddest clothes I’d ever seen, only outshone by Odisha (wearing more than 25kgs on her person!) who we didn’t see till later on at the reception before the wedding. All the uncles wore a turban though all the young ones (Rajat’s entourage) didn’t get to wear one, however everyone was so keen to have one on me that I was given the chance to put one on (they didn’t have enough fabric for everone). They are a small bit uncomfortable I have to say, as they pull your hair and are quite sweaty. I can’t imagine what Shikhs go through, as they can’t cut their hair (My friend Suppi’s hair goes down past his knees, though I’ve never seen it down.) and tie it up in knots before tying on a turban. Ouch.


So off we went to the reception, and when I mean off I mean Rajat got on a horse (he had never ridden before and he was wrecked after it) and we all went in a procession before him with a few guys playing mad drums. They wouldn’t have been out of place at some mad rave! And my god did everyone get into it. I will post a video of it later. Even I got infected by the beats and was dancing with everyone on the road, making our way to the reception. Even though we skipped a huge section of and started again closer to the reception, it still took over and hour and a half to make it 1km! And all the way down we had fireworks going off in front of us! Also Odisha’s side had paid for a brass band also so there literally a battle of the bands as each sought to beat the other.




When we arrived at the reception it turned out to be a very formal affair, with lots of food, but no lively music and no alcohol (not supposed to drink on the wedding day as it’s unlucky to do so). This all started at 8 in the evening, and by the time the reception was over it was nearly 12 at night.


Then on to the next place for the wedding, which was only family and close friends. Everyone was wrecked, Rajat’s back was so still he was in terrible pain, not to mention what Odisha was feeling, who changed into another amazing dress for the wedding, being outside her family home). By the time we got back everyone was ready to pass out and any thoughts about continuing the party at the hotel were dismissed.
Next morning we were to leave and so, tired from non-stop events, we took the 10.30am train back to Bombay. It was certainly one of the most fun times I’ve had in India, though it was a shame I didn’t get to go sightseeing in the little time we were there. Unfortunately, the train back certainly dampened our moods, as it was certainly not as nice as the one going to Allahabad. There were cockroaches all over the place (one of the lads woke up with one on his face!) and there were kids screaming and crying all through the journey. That is one huge gripe I have with Indian, some of them have no sense of Hygiene; a kid was pissing in the train and their parents didn’t say anything, in Bombay you’ll see guys pick their noses and eat a roll without cleaning their hand, or shit in a not so hidden corner of a building. Not saying everyone is like that but it’s just not nice, and those that know me know I’m not exactly Mr. Cleanliness.


We arrived eventually in Bombay the next morning, wrecked and ready for a nice relaxing day at home with no work. Gayle and I chilled at the house and watched some movies and read our books all day. Very nice. Next day it was back to work, though I was still quite tired.
Well, that’s all there is to the trip. I hope you all enjoyed my little story.
Will blog again soon,
Paul

p.s. as you can see above we could open the doors and stand there as the contryside flew past. Bit dangerous but very cool. The city trains are the same with no sliding doors so as to allow quick on-off movement.