Social Butterflies!

Before arriving in India, I was advised that we were likely to receive multiple invitations to lunch and dinner at various eager homes, possibly clashing and all critical to not just attend but to schedule in absolutely the right order to avoid causing offence. This did not transpire. I can’t pretend to have been disappointed; I’ve found the days full and challenging enough without wondering how to tread on social eggshells. It has been really good to simply settle into the Indian domestic environment, observe family habits and have a practice at, for example, eating rice and extremely runny dhal with my fingers without worrying about whether I was unwittingly performing some great faux pas. Having said that, I was beginning to wonder why we hadn’t received any such invites but this week has proven that such events are akin to the proverbial buses; you wait weeks for one and three turn up at once. At least in this instance we’ve had a little warning and I haven’t had to fling myself through any front doors whilst avoiding a river of mopeds.

In June, I had the great honour of meeting a particularly remarkable woman, Neha, during a visit to Europe. Neha studied on the residential course at Aryaloka with Young Indian Futures nine years ago and is a textbook model of the success of the project who now regularly rubs shoulders with very senior order members whilst holding down a plethora of creative roles at Lord Buddha TV, a channel dedicated to broadcasting Buddhist and Ambedkarite teachings. She has recently enjoyed great success with the publication of a documentary Ambedkar in Hungary (28,521 views as I write this) that she shot during her summer trip looking at the lives of a community of Roma people who have discovered the ideas of Dr Ambedkar in their own search for social emancipation.

Neha has become not just a friend to me but also a great inspiration so I was excited when we received an invitation to her home to have dinner and celebrate her birthday on Wednesday!

Her kind ‘Papa’ collected us from Indora soon after we finished teaching that evening and took us in his now familiar auto rickshaw to their house; a small but beautifully kept dwelling on a street with a similar ambience. It is small and perhaps a little run down to some eyes, yet it is clear that those who live there look after it with care and whatever means are at their disposal. Shakyajata has, of course, known Neha for nearly a decade and has visited her family several times on each of her trips so Mark and I stood back a little to let old friends reunite. We were equally warmly welcomed though and were presented with the customary fresh flowers in a very touching fashion. We all sat in their tiny but delightful living room; at the centre of which is the beautifully decorated family shrine. I tried to keep track of the introductions and conversations, conversing in English where possible or with some interpretation where needed.

Soon, Neha’s birthday cake was brought into the room! I have seen display cabinets full of such cakes on Dr Ambedkar Road and I must be honest in saying that they don’t much appeal to my tastes as they appear extremely artificial; gaudy bright colours and something that tries to resemble fresh cream but ends up looking more like enthusiastically applied bath sealant. Nevertheless, cake snobbery aside, It was clearly enjoyed by everybody! Everything progressed very normally; Neha lit an exciting firework candle which we all applauded. She then proceeded to cut the cake, at which point the first custom that is slightly outside of the British experience revealed itself when she turned round and hand fed a piece to Shakyajata, who received it with an air of dignified resignation. This activity continued as Neha fed cake to, and was then fed by, each guest in turn. I was more than slightly relieved when it came to my turn and I was able to apologise profusely but explain I would not be able to eat the confection which no doubt contained both eggs and dairy products. She conceded with some disappointment but saying that she understood. At this point someone pointed out that the wafer curls on top of the cake would be ‘mostly sugar anyway’ (Thanks, Mark) and so I ended up being cajoled into a bite of one. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant but I’m not sure it contained much in the way of traditionally edible substances! I was lucky; however, to escape from the main birthday cake ritual, which was still to come. After quite gracefully receiving his share of the cake from Neha’s careful hand, her brother returned the gesture; by smearing it vigorously all over her face! This was clearly of no surprise to her and she continued the mutual feeding with a similar resigned pride with which Shakyajata had set the scene with her first bite! I have since been told this is a very normal birthday tradition. And there was me thinking the ‘birthday bumps’ was a strange quirk of English custom.

Such a normal, civilised family scene!

Until the cake is cut!

When it is perfectly normal to smear it on the Birthday Girl's face!

Soon, we were presented with a fine meal; dhal, chapattis, rice, salad (a separate one made especially for me with no mayonnaise), a delicious mushroom Balti, gulab jamun, and little sweet crispy snacks as a side. Our plates were never left empty for a second by our very attentive hosts and I was gently berated for ‘eating very slowly’. It’s true that I am often one of the last to finish in the UK, so I’m a gastronomic tortoise by Indian standards. Despite the lavish care given to the preparation of a meal, most Indians seem content to gulp the dish down and get on with something else as quickly as possible, something my digestion has a habit of rebelling against. I was content to apologise and take my time because it was too nice to rush anyway but I couldn’t help noticing that none of our hosts were eating, which I found more than a little strange.  At various stages, different extended family members appeared to meet us and take photos. I also found this odd, mid meal, but did my best to be photogenic with a mouthful! Eventually, we begged our hosts to feed us no more as we were really very full! Neha explained that eight PM was far too early for them to eat and they would be having their dinner later, at about half past nine. I did feel rather guilty that such a lot of effort had been put into not just our meal but responding so kindly to our daily rhythm, but no one seemed in the least put out. After more chatting and laughter, we were graciously conveyed to our respective dwellings; Mark on the back of Neha’s brothers’ scooter, Shakyajata and myself in her Papa’s rickshaw once again. I’m not sure if I’m slightly jealous of Mark’s ride or really rather relieved we got the ‘safe’ option!

Of course this wasn’t before a grand farewell send-off from the entire family, in which Neha’s brother in law took great pains to express enthusiastically to me that if I ever encountered any difficulties in India, I should contact the family straight away, who would all provide assistance in whatever way I needed. He made this point very earnestly, several times and it occurred to me rather sadly that I would seriously have questioned the motives of any gentleman making such offers at home. In this instance though, I could not question his genuine demeanour and felt very much as though I had been welcomed wholeheartedly into yet another loving family.

As if that wasn’t enough of an exciting social experience, the very next day we were to attend lunch with Asha, another ex-student of Aryaloka who now works at the Institute. Knowing that our usual daily pattern is to teach from Five O’clock at the Indora campus, she had kindly suggested a meal beforehand so instead of the normal routine of enjoying Sheetal’s cooking pretty much as soon as we step out of the classroom at One, we instead caught a lift to her home with Aryaketu, who would also eat with us.

Another fine meal; with Bihari specialities this time!

We were shown into a home of comparable humility to Neha’s and just as well kept but we were soon presented with a range of unfamiliar foods! No chapattis!? What on earth!? Instead, we were given a Bihari treat; a kind of small fried bread dumpling, which really did make a delicious change. Of course there was also plenty of subji, pakoras, pilau and I very much enjoyed a generous fresh salad of raw beetroot, cucumber, radish and salad. Though it is easy to eat a vegetarian diet here, I have really missed raw vegetables as they are nearly always cooked very thoroughly, so this was a real joy and I could almost feel my body absorbing the nutrients. Asha had been considerate in removing a dish of khir (milky rice pudding) from my plate, knowing that I follow a vegan diet. Unfortunately, two and two hadn’t quite been put together and it wasn’t until I declared ‘this dhal tastes different!’ that Aryaketu pointed out it wasn’t dhal at all and was made with curds; so I encountered Vegan Food Fail #2. Still, I’d only tasted a small spoonful so I didn’t feel too put off and did a very good job of demolishing the verified ‘safe’ edibles before me! Yet again, I noticed our hosts were not eating, simply ferrying dishes back and forth from the kitchen to slavishly refill our plates if anything appeared to be diminishing. I asked Asha if she’d already eaten. Perhaps our arrival time of 2pm was too late for them? On the contrary, she’d not eaten since breakfast but assured me that I should not worry and she was not hungry. After our meal, we were served very sweet black tea with lemon juice and reclined to enjoy a rest and a good chat, especially with Arti. She speaks excellent English and is married to Paul, whom I had first met at the Manchester Buddhist Centre and who volunteered as an English teacher at Aryaloka last year. Soon it was time for us to leave and prepare our lesson at which time a minor mystery was solved. I’d been so engrossed in chatting to Arti, who is excited to be leaving tomorrow to meet Paul where he is now teaching in China, that I’d not noticed everyone else seemed to have vanished. As we got up to leave, I peered around the door to the kitchen; there they all were, relishing a hearty lunch! Apparently it is entirely normal for hosts to serve their guests first and not to dine themselves until that meal has been finished! No wonder I was ticked off for eating slowly, they must have been starving! Well. You live and learn.

As if that wasn’t enough of an exciting social experience, the very next day we were to attend lunch with Asha, another ex-student of Aryaloka who now works at the Institute. Knowing that our usual daily pattern is to teach from five O’clock at the Indora campus, she had kindly suggested a meal beforehand so instead of the normal routine of enjoying Sheetal’s cooking pretty much as soon as we step out of the classroom at one, we instead caught a lift to her house with Aryaketu, who would also eat with us.

There they are! The family finally eats lunch!

We now have yet another invitation to our first meal (aside from the Deekshabhoomi Picnic!) with the young women’s group on Sunday, so this time I shall not be so confused when they don’t eat with us. I can’t pretend I wouldn’t prefer it though, it seems rather divisive to my mind and a pity to miss on the opportunity for shared experience that a communal meal offers. Before that of course, we have a big day tomorrow! The wedding and my first attempt to wear a sari! I feel as though I’ve passed the first stage of Indian socialising but I am definitely about to level up. We hope. I suspect dinner with the girls will feel positively relaxing after whatever Indian Buddhist weddings have to offer!