What is your name, where are you from ?
When we learn english in France, the first words we learn are " Good morning", "My tailor is rich", the newspaper is on the table " ......in India it must be "what is your name ?" "Where are you from?".
These two questions which are sweet can become really ,really annoying when asked by every single indian you meet while visiting a site, and you just feel like telling them....it is none of your business !!!!
The next sentence (when they have majored in english !) is "please one picture " Let me tell you Amithab is a joker compare to me, my pictures must now be in almost every single Indian household !!! I'm the star, not him !!! This is actually still puzzling me. I could understand if I was the next contender for the miss world competition but it is hardly the case especially whem I'm wearing crappy jeans and when I look sweaty and read because of a 5 kms walk in the country side..... !!!! Can somebody explain.
The discovery I made a few days ago is that (at least in Indore and around) every single white skin person has to be american ......nooooooo!!!!
No I don't belong to the country who has invented MacDonald and Coca Cola (by the way I love both !) , no my country has not created the french fries (even if they are now the freedom fries), yes I eat snails and frog legs and yes I believe that my language and my country are the most beautiful in the world .....me proud ?! no?!
By the way Tumara Baharat Mahan!
Last but not least some people in India have lately impressed me with their sharp mind by looking at me and saying "Foreigner !" When not speechless by such a statment 2 things come to my mind.
The first one is "how did you guess ?, my skin ? No, not possible I have spent countless hours under the UV lamp before coming here to get the perfect sun tan !!!, my hair, please don't tell me that, I have tried all the products available on the market to get perfect shiny, black, easy to comb hair after spending long hours watching the countless number of add for these products on every single TV chanel in India. Please don't tell me I failed !!!!!!" So how did you guess ?
The second thing is to look at them and to tell them "Wrong, I'm an Indian secret agent under cover, impressive no ?! My name is Vijay Bond 007 (Vijay for the victory meaning) or Raj Bond 007 (I like the royal sound !!!) I'm here to fail a major attact against one of your pan whala shop and yes if I accept this mission this blog will blow away in 7 seconds...ek, do, tin, tchar, patch.......boum!!!!!!
Ok I know I'm slightly over reacting and that these people actually mean well. Most of the time I actually take it well and answer the question and pose for the photo but sometimes it becomes too much.
Too much when I'm in a place like Mandu and I just want to sit quietly and look at the magic around me and when i can not do so because I have waves (and I mean waves) of people running towards me (yes running) as soon as they spot me. Too much when I'm peacefully walking in the country side and I'm disturb by pathetic youngester driving a bright red car ( not even a ferrari , otherwise .....!!!) and stopping every two meters to ask me if you want a lift !!!!! or when I have a bus full of 20 years old young men stopping in the middle of nowhere so that they can get a picture with me. During those moment to be honest I just feel like buying them a couple of issues of playboy and to tell them "get a life and leave me alone".
Anyway India is so beautiful and the people so nice that it still won't prevent me to be immensly happy and grateful to be here.
By the way I forgot " What is your name, where are you from ?"
These two questions which are sweet can become really ,really annoying when asked by every single indian you meet while visiting a site, and you just feel like telling them....it is none of your business !!!!
The next sentence (when they have majored in english !) is "please one picture " Let me tell you Amithab is a joker compare to me, my pictures must now be in almost every single Indian household !!! I'm the star, not him !!! This is actually still puzzling me. I could understand if I was the next contender for the miss world competition but it is hardly the case especially whem I'm wearing crappy jeans and when I look sweaty and read because of a 5 kms walk in the country side..... !!!! Can somebody explain.
The discovery I made a few days ago is that (at least in Indore and around) every single white skin person has to be american ......nooooooo!!!!
No I don't belong to the country who has invented MacDonald and Coca Cola (by the way I love both !) , no my country has not created the french fries (even if they are now the freedom fries), yes I eat snails and frog legs and yes I believe that my language and my country are the most beautiful in the world .....me proud ?! no?!
By the way Tumara Baharat Mahan!
Last but not least some people in India have lately impressed me with their sharp mind by looking at me and saying "Foreigner !" When not speechless by such a statment 2 things come to my mind.
The first one is "how did you guess ?, my skin ? No, not possible I have spent countless hours under the UV lamp before coming here to get the perfect sun tan !!!, my hair, please don't tell me that, I have tried all the products available on the market to get perfect shiny, black, easy to comb hair after spending long hours watching the countless number of add for these products on every single TV chanel in India. Please don't tell me I failed !!!!!!" So how did you guess ?
The second thing is to look at them and to tell them "Wrong, I'm an Indian secret agent under cover, impressive no ?! My name is Vijay Bond 007 (Vijay for the victory meaning) or Raj Bond 007 (I like the royal sound !!!) I'm here to fail a major attact against one of your pan whala shop and yes if I accept this mission this blog will blow away in 7 seconds...ek, do, tin, tchar, patch.......boum!!!!!!
Ok I know I'm slightly over reacting and that these people actually mean well. Most of the time I actually take it well and answer the question and pose for the photo but sometimes it becomes too much.
Too much when I'm in a place like Mandu and I just want to sit quietly and look at the magic around me and when i can not do so because I have waves (and I mean waves) of people running towards me (yes running) as soon as they spot me. Too much when I'm peacefully walking in the country side and I'm disturb by pathetic youngester driving a bright red car ( not even a ferrari , otherwise .....!!!) and stopping every two meters to ask me if you want a lift !!!!! or when I have a bus full of 20 years old young men stopping in the middle of nowhere so that they can get a picture with me. During those moment to be honest I just feel like buying them a couple of issues of playboy and to tell them "get a life and leave me alone".
Anyway India is so beautiful and the people so nice that it still won't prevent me to be immensly happy and grateful to be here.
By the way I forgot " What is your name, where are you from ?"
posted by Indian wine adventures at 5:19 PM
2 Comments:
Effectivement j'ai connu ça aussi dans la vieille ville de Nashik...
Mais moi je leur retournais la question et les prenais aussi en photo; du coup j'ai maintenant à la maison une demi-douzaine de photos de jeunes et charmants indiens (20-25 ans) dont je n'ai ni le nom ni le numéro de telephone !
tu verras, ça te manqueras quand tu retomberas dans l'anonymat le + complet de la foule de la rue sainte catherine...!
je ne veux pas vous décevoir mais il est bien evident que bon nombre de visiteur on laisse des traces. j'ai découvert lors du dernier voyage que les portables avec photo faisaient fureur chez nos amis indiens et ma "bobine" doit figurer dans une multitude d'album photo genre photo de classe
comme le conseille soeurette la solution est de faire comme eux et on a de bons souvenirs
tout comme avec les rabatteurs lorsque, dès la descente du train ils nous tendent leurs cartes de visite pour proposer le meilleur hotel e la ville : on prend les cartes on brasse les cartes et on les redistribue
ça désarme ....
quand on rentre dans notre pays d'origine, ces contacts nous manquent
on retombe dans bien plus que l'anonymat, dans l'indifférence !!!
essayez de vous approcher d'un enfant dans un square et d'entamer un semblant de conversation vous serrez regardé avec suspicion ..... plus aucun contact spontanné...
amors oui l'Inde vous manque terriblement
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