Meeting the parents

To be invited to someones house for lunch to meet the family is a pretty big deal in India. Especially if you're a not Indian. In fact it's considered to be a huge compliment and something not to be taken lightly. So when my friend Vinod invited me to Alleppy to meet his family I was flattered and also a little nervous.

Firstly I'm hating my clothes at the moment. I've been wearing the same outfits for over 6 months so let's just say my wardrobe and I aren't on speaking terms. I didn't want to turn up at his house looking like a tramp so I had to buy a new outfit. The trouble is all the clothes in Varkala have either a hideous paisley pattern in various random primary colours or some sort of motif on them - usually an 'OM' or a picture of one of the Hindu Gods. I've always turned my nose up at people who wear 'OM' tees. I used to think there were idiots, try hards with no dress sense. Now I realise this isn't the case at all - the reason is because that's all you can buy.

I have to admit I did smirk when I realised I had very little choice in the clothing dept and purchased a tee with an Hindu God on the front of it. 'That'll teach me' I thought as I ticked another thing off the 'I would never do that' list.

In the end I chose a tee with Genish - the God of overcoming obstacles - as I figured I needed a little assistance in this area esp if I was meeting parents. Experience has taught me these types of meetings can bring all manner of obstacles to the fore front. Usually the father is cool, relaxed and likes to joke around and the mother sits there with a stern face thinking you're leading their son astray. In my experience they don't need leading but that's another story.

But Vinod is just a friend. That said the general opinion in India is that all western woman are lose and have sex with random strangers where ever and whenever. I've had many a conversation about the fact we don't have sex in bushes during our lunch breaks. Mores the pity (Obviously I don't mention that bit for fear of being stoned to death). Either way I knew way his parents would have an opinion about western women so I didn't want to dress inappropriately or look like I've just been dragged out backwards from a bush.

Outfit brought and approved by several Indians we headed to Alleppy by train. 3 hours later we're having to bribe the police as our friend who picked us up in a car was also using his mobile while driving. In India you don't get fined. Well you do but not as we know it. You have to bribe the police out of the situation. In this case it cost us 100 INR. Not a massive deal but just made me realise how obviously corrupt this massive country is - I'm not saying the UK is any different. It's probably just not in your face as much.

A car, followed by a rickshaw and bus journey later and I'm strolling down a beach strewn with fishing boats on the shore and no one around. Gorgeous white sand, blue sea, coconut trees - perfect.

Vinod's family or rather the men in his family are all fisherman. They have very little money and I mean very little money. The entire day was a huge experience for me and I have to admit extremely humbling. Firstly, these people have what I call 'real' worries. Of course it's all subjective but I think you'll agree worrying about where your next meal is coming from is slightly different to fretting over whether you can afford a holiday this year, a new handbag or a pair of shoes. His immediate family ie mum, dad and brother live in a one bedroom brick house. The roof is made out of corrigated iron. The toilet is outside. They have no running water in the house or sewage system but they do have electricity. In the bedroom where they entertain guests they have a double bed which has a thin mattress, a stereo and a few plastic chairs. It's basic but very clean.

The entire day was spent being introduced to various uncles, aunts, brother cousins, brothers, sister cousins (some cousins are just cousins some are sister or brother cousins depending on how close they are) and of course this mum and dad. I was the official photographer for the day - his extended family don't have a camera and aren't used to having their picture taken so consequently I was asked several hundred times to take pictures of children, uncles, aunts basically the whole family from various different angles. Giggles would fill the room when I showed the pictures to everyone. Some commented about their beards, grey hair - basically there was no vanity in the room - as far as I could tell there were no mirrors in any of the houses/huts. And there's me moaning about not having a full length one in my room. At least I'd be able to tell if I had a little beard growing on my face - one female relation clearly didn't know....or maybe she did but didn't care!

Anyway, after meeting his entire extended family we arrived at his house for lunch. The food looked and was amazing. Fresh fish, rice, dahl (lentils) and vegetables. Fine I thought. I have mastered eating with my right hand (even though I'm left handed). I can handle this. So the food was placed on the bed (no table) and I sat on a plastic chair to eat it. I was already visualising the impressive looks on their faces when they saw how well I could eat with my right hand when I realised everyone sitting there wasn't actually eating. They didn't have any food in front of them, they were there to watch me eat. Oh the pressure.

I tried to delicately manipulate a small amount of food into my right hand and pop it in my mouth but my hand started shaking with nerves so I missed my mouth and the rice, fish and dalh dripped down my chin and then slowly plopped onto the front of my tee. Genish clearly wasn't helping me overcome this obstacle! The whole family laughed at me (great) and handed me a spoon. My recovery time from this little situ was quite interesting. I think I managed it fairly successfully by agreeing to drink Toddie (strong alcoholic coconut drink) with his father and uncles!

Agreeing to drink the Toddie and admitting that I smoked definitely won me some points. I was told by his father - who spoke perfect English which is unusual as he's a fisherman - that women in Kerala don't drink or smoke. 'well women in the UK do' I smiled and winked at him. With that he laughed and handed me the Toddie - full to the brim.

So I was something of a novelty. The thing is the Toddie was strong and I hadn't had any breakfast. Plus my dining experience was still very fresh in my mind and I'd lost my appetite when the food slipped down my chin so I hadn't eaten much lunch either. So it wasn't a huge surprise when it dawned on me that after several sips of Toddie I was a bit pissed. Then out came MY family photos. I was on a role. I didn't realise I'd brought my soap box with me but out it came anyway. Vinod's father and I were having big deep and meaningful chats about arranged marriages, how men and woman live together before getting married in the UK, how my father feels about having four daughters (you could tell he genuinely felt sorry for him!) and how Indians in general view western woman (not so great). It was fascinating. He told me about his work as a fisherman; he's away from home or three nights then back for two. He talked about how and where he sells his fish, how much he sells it for and he also showed me his technique or lighting a cig when the wind is up.

Me, Vinod, his mum, dad and brother sat on the bed talking and drinking Toddie and chai all afternoon. It was pretty random though - we were sitting there chatting when Vinod decided to put on some music on. Next thing I know 'smack my bitch up' by the Prodigy was blasting from the speakers and his dad was rocking backwards and forwards to the music. I asked if he liked it - he smiled, carried on bopping to the music and nodded his head. I'm thinking 'the last time I heard this was in Pacha in Ibiza and now I'm sitting in a tiny brick room with an Indian family listening to it'...that's India for you.

I really enjoyed myself. Usually meeting the parents in my experience is formal, mildly painful and stiff. This couldn't have been more different. They were hospitable, made me feel so welcome and were really relaxed. The family were joking and laughing together; you could tell there was a real closeness between them all. And although they have very little money they instisted on feeding me and topping up my glass of todie at every opportunity. And you have to accept everything that's offered otherwise it's considered rude. So in true style and much to their amusment I passed out on the bed - thankfully his mum did too (although she hadn't been drinking, I suspect she was genuinley knackered from cooking a huge lunch). Is dad thought this was hilarious. I was mortified. Thank God I didn't sleep talk or snore. At least I don't think I did. I definately didn't do any permanent damage as they've invited me back again. Better perfect eating with my right hand!