Wednesday was the long awaited Indian wedding day. Our friend Papu took us to a village 15 km away from Manali, and although by the time we reached our destination it was dark, there were literally kilometers of lamp cables leading the way to the main yard. In my life I happened to see lots of European marriage ceremonies, but they shamefully shy of decorations, music and food compared to the Indian ones. Let’s clarify, we hadn’t met the groom nor the bride before (neither that night), but their relatives showed the way inside a white tent, stuffed with 30 “drinking tables”. I was immediately served with “masahavi” food. The first time I’m eating meat in India! Still the “meat” is 90% bones and the rest is chicken or mutton.
Also, numerable appearances of the waitresses meant that the table had to carry a great deal of liquor glassware. Unlike in my own culture, North Indian people are careful with alcohol, their favorite choice being 1 part of whiskey and 3 parts of water. However, that night newlyweds’ family and friends skinned off the suits and celebrated. An hour later, all cheered up, we moved towards the dinner head quarters – garden. We ate right there on the ground from the plastic disposable plates. People accepted us warmly, and neighbors grinned occasionally at our failure to eat with the right hand.
Wedding food is special hear, it has its own colour (yellow/orange) and serving sequence. For a starter we are offered a handful of rice. Anine places her both palms over the plate and says “niche”, she doesn’t eat much rice. Then, brown beans follow. Dal, Alu, curry chase in and we get another serving of rice. The former meals are high in protein and are my favorites here in Himachal. Yet what follows next is a straight deviation from the sour and salty main courses. We get extra sour and sweet curry and mango pickle.
Before coming to India, I was aware of “the pickles” in the Eastern European way. Me, my sister and Mom would pick cucumber from the green house, shave off the spikes, wash them a few times with a boiling water and vacuum in the jars with lots of vinegar. Here everything pickled in one or the other way comes as a threat to my stomach! For desert we enjoy the orange sweet rice. I don’t know how they make them orange in colour, but it’s a sugary desert, enriched with cashew nuts.
On that night we made more friends than ever before, and some of them invited to pay a visit on Diwali break. Shimla, Rajastan, Panjab, UP! Locals, poor and rich, Brhmani and peasants, have one thing in common – hospitability. Abundant in the economically backward countries, it compensates with people’s smiles and kind heartedness.
Blind school
We face great difficulties in exchanging our thoughts with the blind kids. They’re mastering the verbal language easily, but learning new nouns such as a clock, floors, wall, cat or house is literally beyond their imagination. So I came up with a plan to get some Lego toys into the school.
All we need are the basic Lego pieces, whereas the resulting 3D sculptures have endless number of permutations. I love Lego, and I couldn’t imagine my childhood without it. So I found out an Indian company producing similar toys (it has the Danish license as well). What we should do now is to get into contact with them and ask for a few sets. I’m sure we could negotiate with the company on the advertising basis. Hopefully, by the end of Dusshera we’ll establish a dialogue.Dusshera
Tomorrow marks the start of the most flamboyant event in Kullu. It’s celebrated around India as well, but in Kullu Dusshera has a symbolic meaning. On one hand the Gods come down from the valley mountains, on the other – tourists. Lots of them are eager to spend the money on Kullu shawls and dresses. Truly beautiful textile is made right here in Kullu, and the foreigners bring sweet profits to the shop keepers. Speaking of whom majority are Sikhs. I wish me knew more Sikhs in person. But apparently only brahmani caste lives in Akhara (our part of the city).
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