Spiritual Songs and Sumptuous Snacks: Day Three in Banaglore, India

The battle with jet lag continues and so far jet lag is winning. But I feel as though I’ve lived a lifetime in the last twenty four hours. And, as you can see here, I am rewarded with these tiny but incredibly flavorful bananas for breakfast!

Last night our lovely landlord and landlady, Suresh and Renu took us out for an evening of fun and music at the Bangalore Club. The club itself is fascinating – it was created by the British and much of the decor and construction remains the same. Now, however, the membership consists of almost all Indians and the club has a wait list of about thirty years. We walked through the grounds soaking up the history as we browsed through the rooms with leather couches, British weapons hung on the walls, and a notice showing Winston Churchill’s default on his fees when he was a member. He didn’t pay his 13 Rupees so he got written up!

What I loved was that the Indian board of directors decided to leave the place nearly as it was when the British ruled. That’s when you know you’ve risen above colonization – when you can take something your former colonizer created and make it your own without feeling the need to totally discard the past. Renu told us a story about a British man living in London who had wondered his whole life if the Indians in Britain were seeking revenge for what his people had done to them. Renu’s response to the frightened man was perfect.

She said, “I don’t remember seeing you in India doing bad things to me!”

What she meant is that the past is the past, and that the two of them had no bad history. She invited him to have Indian food with her. The man hesitated at first, but after one of her home cooked meals he came every Sunday to share in the amazing flavors of India. As I’ve said in many past posts, the world could be made much better if people just talked to each other.

The breeze cooled us as we sat on the club’s lawn listening to the live band, who by the way played “Sweet Home Alabama”. That was a bit surreal, as I’m from Atlanta, Georgia, and I found myself itching to jump up and cheer. My husband and I danced to a couple of familiar tunes and enjoyed the evening with our hosts.

I hardly slept at all that night, but I didn’t want to miss out on the next day’s activities, so we woke up at 6:45 AM and joined Suresh and Renu at Cubbon Park, a beautiful green space with enormous old trees and winding pathways. We saw hawks, huge honeycombs in the trees, and people playing badminton. As we walked along we heard people singing. Under a small gazebo a group of women and men were chanting spiritual songs and clapping their hands. I love music, so we wandered near them and they invited us to sit with them. They brought us chairs because we had shoes on and it’s not polite to sit in the religious circle with shoes. The older ladies smiled at me, made me feel welcome, and asked me if I understood any of the Hindi songs. A little, I replied, as I’ve picked up enough Hindi over the years to catch the meaning of the tunes. I had difficulty moving on, but it was time for breakfast.

We left the park and drove on to an old part of Bangalore where Renu said they made the best idlis (a savory cake about three inches wide made from black lentils and rice) and filter coffee. She was right. The idlis came out on a banana leaf plate alongside a vada, a crispy doughnut shaped snack made from lentils, potatoes, and green chilis. We dipped these sumptuous treats in sambar (a thin, spicy soup) and coconut chutney. I can honestly say I’ve never tasted better, and just when I thought my mouth couldn’t be any happier, the waiter brought set dosai, a stack of three spongy pancakes made from rice and served with a vegetable side dish. The hot, sweet coffee was the perfect companion to our morning. I tried not to smack my lips with every bite, and today’s amazing meal makes it all the more pitiful that I am eating cornflakes for dinner because I’m too jetlagged to cook!

After breakfast we went back to Suresh and Renu’s home, a light and airy apartment overlooking central Bangalore. I needed Renu’s help most urgently. Although I cook plenty at home, I’ve never done much cooking in India. Usually I am staying with a family who has a cook, or I’m on business in a hotel where I eat out. Now we are in an apartment and I need to feed my little family. The feeling is like suddenly stepping into someone else’s kitchen; you don’t know where anything is and all of the food looks different. I bought all of these vegetables, but other than frying them in oil I was at a loss.

Renu saved the day. She took me into her kitchen and gave me step by step demonstrations on how to cook masala vegetables, lentils, and potatoes the Indian way with local ingredients. I was surprised how easy it was and I wrote everything down. The amazing Indian multitasking was in full force as Renu gave me cooking lessons, managed her helpers, and took phone calls all at the same time! When we finished I felt more at home here in Bangalore, less disoriented, because I understood how to prepare food, a rather necessary and primal part of life.

By the end of our visit I could hardly stand up from lack of sleep. I struggled between wanting to share and connect, and needing to care for myself. In the end they dropped me off at our home and I took a long nap.

Renu’s boundless energy inspires me. She seems to have enough room in her heart for everyone, and she and Suresh are making my stay in India a warm and welcome one. Now I just need to figure out a way to sleep. Counting auto-rickshaws, perhaps?