September 25, 2011, 19:26
Music: Conversations, Dr. L. Subramaniam / Stephane Grappelli
Mood: Calm
Weather: Cool! (6°C)
Conversations. Lunch-time, walk-time, party-time, play-time, anytime, overtime. Loud, whispered, joyous, warm, saccharine, unending, convoluted, stilted. Conversations.
One of the great delights in studying with an International student fraternity is not that you have many conversations—students anywhere cannot stop talking shop—but that each conversation is a peephole, a glimpse, a window into entirely different cultures, outlook, understanding, and way of living.
Of course you have to first not only understand the many different accents but also make yourself understood clearly. In India, I am sometimes told that I speak too fast and that I mumble. And, in Finland, I am misunderstood so very often that I have to pause and catch my accelerating words in mid-air, drag them back, and force them to expunge s-l-o-w-ly. Only the other day, I was having lunch with a Spanish fella and two Russians one of whom was trying to learn Spanish. “Tiene los ojos hermosos,” said the Spaniard and then explained to the Russian, “That means ‘you have beautiful eyes’.” I turned round to the Spaniard and asked, “Oh, which part in the sentence means eyes?” Hearing me, the Russian looked at me quizzically, “Hey, you know Spanish?” and I was like “Umm, no…” “Oh, but didnt you just speak in Spanish to him?”
Of course, it does not help my cause much that the overall standard of English among the students is not really that great, which is completely understandable since few are from English-speaking countries like India. Nevertheless, when the Student Union says that their Office hours are exeptional (sic) on monday 19.9. and wednesday 28.9, I cannot help but chuckle (the meaning, I deciphered is that their office hours are different from the usual on such and such days). And it does raise my bemused eyebrows when a discussion goes like this: “hey, do you know what fowl means? “you mean foul or fowl, the chicken..” “yeah yeah, the chicken” “oh, yeah, it is not just chicken though, its many birds” “say, man, you have a great vocabulary.” I lapse into a befuddled silence, and the conversation lags.
Life is never short of surprises in unknown territory. For example, no one understands the word “canteen” that is used so ubiquitously in India for an eating place. And Indians are astonishing too with the seemingly quaint customs. A Finn, a Russian, and I were eating together in the cafetaria, and the Finn was reasonably knowledgeable about India; which, in my experience, means he knew ten things about the country. And so he says, “Yeah, I also know that you guys eat only with your hands.” The Russian is surprised, “Really? Only with hands? You dont use spoons, knives, forks?!” “Not a thing, just hands.” He shook his head in wonder, “Thats so strange.” I tried to defend the custom, “Well, its mostly a question of conditioning, I guess, you know; after all, eating with spoons is quite alien for us.” The Finnish said, “Well, some say that the metallic taste spoils the flavor. ” I responded, “Well, I dont know about that…I guess its just that we are not used to it…” And I laughed, “We dont use the left hand though!” The Finn was quite amused and with a grin and twinkling eye responded, “I was just going to say that, but lets not explain the reason during lunch!” We neednt have bothered. The Russian had still not gotten over his astonishment and was muttering, “Hmmm…so strange” to himself…But, to my surprise, when the idea sank in, he was intrigued and very sweetly game for it, “I would like to eat with my hands too. But not here, in maybe your society” and then lapsed into thoughtful silence again. Suddenly, he piped up, “But, then, how do you guys eat soup?!”
Europeans also tend to have languid lunches and eat slowly, drinking in their surroundings and conversing nine to a dozen, without any great hurry. In India, I have often been accused of not enjoying my food enough because I eat fast so I was doubly amused when I was told that “You know, Indians eat so fast. They dont enjoy their food, I think. We eat slowly, enjoying each morsel. I think Indians eat fast fast fast because the food is so spicy that they have to shove it into their stomach as quickly as possible!” My only, rather lame, response was that Indians (and I) eat fast because they (we) focus on eating and not talking. On the other hand, for Europeans, travel times have to be short:. “Its too far by train; you have to travel for 5 hours. Its crazy. Very tiring journey.” I sat back and reminisced about the number of times I had traveled by bus for 24 hours in India through worse roads and conditions. But it was impossible to explain to the unitiated: the contrasts were sometimes staggering and quite unbelievable! I did try to explain about Indian information highways: “You know I was so stunned and surprised at the download speeds here; at first, I thought it was only 11 kbps and was aghast until I realized that it was actually 11 Mbps. Thats just supersonic for me. In India, I just about manage to get 50 kbps…yeah, kbps; maybe the occasional 100 kbps. It takes me 4 days to download what I downloaded here in 5 minutes.” I was met with so many raised eyebrows that it reminded me of Kathakali performances.
The only person who could relate to me in our group was the Pakistani, whose eternal lament was the resources wasted in his homeland for useless fighting and killing, especially for meaningless honor and false pride, instead of for progress and upward movement. Still, he was curiously optimistic as well; his friends and the younger generation in this family were educated, engineers, doctors, and administrators, and new ideas were trickling in. Someday, his people might become more proud of accomplishments and progress and strive to protect the freedom that enables the achievements, he hoped, even as he bemoaned, “But the problem is that my people react and shoot first and think later.”
Some conversations can be serious—like compulsory military conscription in Mexico and the near-universal dislike for USA and its hypocritical self-serving (in the name of universal good) foreign policies—but some can be extremely informative, and well, fascinating. Helicopters are used to cut trees in Finland in order to ensure that they do not damage electrical transmission wires, especially in winter when branches break due to snow. Car headlights are always switched on, even during the day, by law. Even in summer in broad daylight. I suppose the idea is that they are better on than off in a country where most parts have 4-h days for 6 months. Speaking of darkness, one conversation turned rather gloomy when I was told that prior to modern medical care, the lack of sun in winter would cause Vitamin D deficiency in the Finns, leading to physiological depression and even suicides.
(And some can be just embarrassing: “Arun, you have worn your shirt upside down; go the bathroom and change…”)
And not even the continuous drone of humdrum conversations could drown the fact that I had not heard a single vehicle horn in 35 days now. Oh, for India and the cacophonous insistent blaring of a thousand horns. Then again, maybe not. When I mentioned this to the Russian TM, she said that once she saw a colleague at the parking lot and sounded the horn to hail and greet him; he looked around startled and politely asked if he had done anything wrong…! Conversing with TM was fun simply because of her use of ze and zis for the and this, respectively, something that I thought happened only in Agatha Christie and Guy de Maupassant!
The best and warmest conversations are the ones with friends, the people with whom you interact daily and share a good and easy camaraderie. We were chattering on all things under the gray skies at a party filled with conversations, friends, games, food, and gentle banter, the kind of party that I prefer, when suddenly our Finnish host exclaimed, “Oh! Excuse me, its 8:45” and ran to the computer. We exchanged startled looks over the domino-board table—incidentally, playing dominoes is the Mexican national pass time—even as he turned around to breathlessly explain, “Its time for the Finnish National Lottery; we Finns love the lottery and this is our national pass time!” As it happens, the government-owned Veikkaus Oy (Oy Limited) is a Finnish lottery for Finnish players and produces more than 1,1 million Euros (1.1 million Euros; the Europeans have the silly habit of writing commas for periods in decimal numbers.) of lottery revenue daily. And whats more, Veikkaus contributes the bulk of its proceeds to the Finnish State, which distributes it further to Finnish arts, sports, science and youth work via the Finnish Ministry of Education! And for Finns, Veikkaus is not only a traditional gaming company but also a significant part of Finnish society…
And sometimes, there are conversations across borders, seas, and worlds. Amrita, sitting in India, keeps me informed about discounts in Lappeenrantan shops, the best places to shop or visit, and things to do! More power to the Internet! Of course, some of these conversations do happen to be a little more mundane…
But, often, the best conversations are the quietly thoughtful solitary ones. Conversing with books and soft music in a blissful solitude under the branches of a tall pine by the gently rolling waters of a serene lake. No fretful past, no uncertain future. Just conversations. With ideas.
Lappeenranta Sojourn 