Daily Archives: January 24, 2011

When in India..

This post almost never happened because of all the sighing over the warmth. Not the hospitality, but actual HEAT, yo!

The perfect temperatures in Bombay these past couple of days, the joy of sun on my arms, my face, the ever-so-mild burn on the back of my neck, the perspiration that starts to dot your upper lip. I missed it all.

All the snow, snowmen, snowfights and sexy winter gear cannot make me love winter. I need sun. And light. LOTS of light. Or I go Seasonal Affective Disorder on your ass. SAD. See?

———————————————————————————————-

Textbooks in Intercultural Communications will tell you that India, like many eastern cultures is “high context”. Essentially meaning that “many things are left unsaid, letting the culture explain. Words and word choice become very important in higher context communication, since a few words can communicate a complex message very effectively to an in-group, but less effectively outside that group”.

Bollocks, I say. Edward Hall has not done business in India in 2011 where they will sit across the table from you and volley with, ” What’s in it for us? Show me the value add.”

All that was missing was Jerry Maguire jumping up and down like a lunatic shouting, “SHOW ME THE MONEY.”

In my work avatar, I am Norwegian through and through. I cringe every time someone brags without restraint and all the chest-beating that goes with self-promotion makes me want to giggle into my cutting chai. I miss Norwegian self-derision. Stop talking, dude. Now let your work talk.

———————————————————————————————-

“Now we will be smearing you with a de-tanner.”

“Err…No you won’t. I’m happy with my skin colour, thanks.”

She looks at me in total bewilderment as if to say, “WHAT? YOU DON’T WANT TO BE AT LEAST MEDIUM LATTE COMPLEXION?” (Or cumbleshun works too.)

No thanks, I’ll be the Bru kaapi I’ve always been, I try to convey wordlessly.

Suddenly her face relaxes into a smile as if she has been let in on a huge joke.

“Skin will look much nicer, madam.”

“I don’t need it.”

Her large eyes are pools of pity.

“Yes,” she says, “You do, Madam. You do.”

When you meet me, don’t bother to tell me I look rather wan. I have been bleached within an inch of my life.

What can I say? Being half naked in a spa, before a complete stranger weakens your sense of certitude.

16 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized