INDIA – The Castes

I thought that we could never make it through – but the car somehow did weasel through all that impossible traffic on the road to Rishikesh. Donkeys, oxen-pulled carts, trucks, people, buses, bicycklists, motorcycles – and us, all was on that road, all the way.  Actually, it seemed that the whole of India was there.  Little did I know as I found myself in India then. I was invited there to address the International Biotechnology Symposium in New Delhi.  My view from its location in a swank international hotel was onto a sea of tin roofs of a dirt-poor favela. What a contrast !

India is a different - and crowded world, with a lots of poverty.   When you first exit any airport in India, it’s like walking into a swirling human hurricane, with sounds, bodies, and shoulders occasionally knocking into you. In a country with an average of 385 inhabitants per square kilometer and a population of 1.21 billion, personal space isn’t a practical cultural feature.  

What shocked me most in India, however, was the deeply rooted and quite perceptible class division in the society. Even with formally abolished caste system, caste social layers are there. And that is ‘hereditary’, born in one caste – that’s it for life. Maybe that’s the reason for the passivity of the poor– born on the sidewalk, stay on the sidewalk and die there. Without even cleaning up that little square of one’s existence. No hope -

What makes it worse is the arrogance with which the ‘higher caste’ treats the lower ones. 

When I was visiting the Indian Institute of Technology in New Delhi, I was shocked noticing a major construction site where semi-naked men were carrying loads of material on their heads – like a sub-human chain of slaves. In the very adjacent building, a big-wig colleague was telling me about hi-tech advances in his lab, completely oblivious to what we could see out of the window.  In his eyes, those workers just did not even exist.

Elsewhere, on a domestic flight in India, I was similarly astounded by extremely rude and arrogant treatment of air attendants by the passengers – mainly well-to-do business people.  I was ashamed for them –
I also had to deal with the problems several of my Indian male students had with female peers – they just could not swallow the fact that there was a female professional and maybe even more advanced than them. So deep-rooted attitudes.

At the Symposium,  a gentleman approached me with an offer to visit their penicillin production plant – he turned out to be the Vice-President of that enterprise located about 130 miles north of New Delhi. I did not know that his plant was one of the largest in India, I did not know that Rishikesh was one of the holiest hindu pilgrimage places, and I did not know that I would be picked up by a choffeur-driven black limousine next day – and we weaved our way all the way to Rishikesh.

I gave them a talk about bioreactors and they showed me theirs. Impresive. I mean both J   Then I got to see the famous Rishikesh City, a meat- and alcohol-free city and the ‘Yoga Capital of the World’. And some of what I saw –

●  The sacred river Ganges flowing out from the mighty Himalayas there on its long journey to the ocean.

●  ‘Sacred’ cows roaming freely in the streets always have the right of way if they stop traffic – as in many other parts of India.

●  Dead bodies being incinerated in pyres and ashes ceremonially thrown into the river. There was the first dead body I have ever seen.

●  Pilgrims taking a ritual 'cleansing' bath in the Ganges.

Despite the pollution of the Ganges, the water in Rishikesh is relatively unaffected by the pollution as the major polluting points are down the course of the river in the neighbouring state of Uttar Pradesh. Wild river rafting upstream, however, leads to careless accumulation of refuse and plastic lining the banks of the sacred river. 

Back in New Delhi, I wanted to see the architectural jewel of India – Taj Mahal. It is truly serene and magnicficient  although the way to it is like usual – crowded.  It’s raining men, women and kids, cows, auto-rickshaws, everyone and their mother, brother, plus four cousins will be in your way – simply walk around them and don’t get upset at the occasional shoulder fender bender. Letting a bump or strolling in crowds upset you will only transport you to temporary insanity as you miss half of the peculiar sights along the way. It is said that 1 week is enough to hate India, 2 weeks are enough to love it.
As an European, I came to India with my hat off, considering and curious about the culture some 3,000 years old. A predecessor of ours. Now, as everybody likes to criticize the contemporary “non-culture” of North America, I made my own specific conclusion from the small India travel exposure that I had :

        All considered, I cannot help preferring this contemporary American ‘non-culture’ that can dress and feed its people – to that 3,000-year old 'culture' as I witnessed it in India !

And, in the closing, how about Indian cuisine ? Indian food is as varied as India geography but locally, it doesn’t necessarily include hygiene as an ingredient. In addition, plates are normally cleaned with tap water that may be a source of antibiotic-resistant bacteria. It’s unlikely that anyone, from the cook to the waiter, will have washed their hands with soap most of the day. Try not to think about how your plate was handled.

The style of food I love – fully robustly spiced, various tastes and styles. As the Indians fanned out into the world, they brought us Indian food in a plethora of savory and authentic Indian restaurants. And so I could find a unique compromise and enjoy them every once in a while in our Montreal. I would even dare to say that in the contemporary UK, Indian restaurants saved the culinary scene.