Monday, March 4, 2013

The Little Things III

On the way to the Amber Fort. This is where we got to ride the camels.


As little kids, we were all taught that sharing is caring. We were taught to share our pudding at the lunch table, invite the other kiddies to play games at recess, and make sure to always be kind. Well, that concept was not lost in India.

Back in January in my first Film Studies class, I was showed how much sharing is accepted in this society. I was sitting up against the cold, concrete wall on the far side of a large wooden table. I set my newly filtered, crystal light-filled water bottle on the table. I'm still not sure if it was the sparkling color of raspberry lemonade or the entrancing glow of the UV light which filters the water. However, as soon as I set my bottle on the table, the girl next to me, who I did not know, grabbed the water and started drinking. I gave her an unusual look only because I was slightly caught off guard. She smiled and realized I wasn't used to the random grabbing of something that doesn't belong to you.

In truth, I really don't mind. It has helped me to become more patient. I still cringe when someone begins to eat half of the meal I will be purchasing. Yet, I know I can eat food off of their plates as well. It is the extreme "family style" dinner.

Another thing that comes to getting food is not as kind and considerate. Downstairs on the bottom floor of my building is the campus canteen. In one cramped room, sealed off on all sides, is where you can order something quick to eat between classes. There are two men that sit behind a tall counter during the lunch rush. If you're not quick, you will get cast aside. You literally have to shove your way up front, shove the money in his face, and scream your order so he hears you correctly. I can't give you an accurate image of the shoving and pushing. Just know it is overwhelming. Most of the time I don't even order my own food, but I get one of my Indian friends to do it for me.

After you place your order, you are given a receipt. Then, you have to take the receipt to the specific counter where your food will be cooked. Again, you have to shove the ticket out front, or it won't get taken.

This is probably the most frustrating thing for me in India. I like having orderly fashioned lines. I like knowing who is next. I like knowing when someone is skipping (Although, most of the time I never say anything. I just give mean looks). This isn't just true for ordering food. It is true for standing in line at the grocery store, the clothing shop, the Foreigners' Registration Office, the International Office, the coffee shop... I can go on and on. There are no lines or cues here, and I doubt there ever will be. It's another thing that makes India work; another thing that keeps it ticking.

I had fun with the post-processing of this image of the Taj. 

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