The exchange was in Marathi, the language of Maharashtra State, which has Bombay as its capital. I didn't understand much of it then, but the same questions and answers were repeated so often during those village months that I learned most of the phrases, with some variations, by heart.
"What's he doing here?"
"He's visiting my family."
"Where's he from?"
"New Zealand," Prabaker replied.
"New Zealand?"
"Yes. New Zealand. In Europe."
"Plenty of money in New Zealand?"
"Yes, yes. Plenty. They're all rich, white people there."
"Does he speak Marathi?"
"No."
"Hindi?"
"No. Only English."
"Only English?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"They don't speak Hindi in his country."
"They don't speak Hindi there?"
"No."
"No Marathi? No Hindi?"
"No. Only English."
"Holy Father! The poor fool."
"Yes."
"How old is he?"
"Thirty."
"He looks older."
"They all do. All the Europeans look older and angrier than they really are. It's white thing."
"Is he married?"
"No."
"Not married? Thirty, and not married? What's wrong with him?"
"He's European. A lot of them get married only when they're old."
"That's crazy."
"Yes."
"What job does he do?"
"He's a teacher."
"A teacher is good."
"Yes."
"Does he have a mother and a father?"
"Yes."
"Where are they?"
"In his native place. New Zealand."
"Why isn't he with them?"
"He's travelling. He's looking at the whole world."
"Why?"
"Europeans do that. They work for a while, and then they travel around, lonely, for a while, with no family, until they get old, and then they get married, and become very serious."
"That's crazy."
"Yes."
"He must be lonely, without his mummy and his daddy, and with no wife and children."
"Yes. But the Europeans don't mind. They get a lot of practice being lonely."
"He has a big strong body."
"Yes."
"A very strong body."
"Yes."
"Make sure you feed him properly, and give him plenty od milk."
"Yes."
"Buffalo milk."
"Yes, yes."
"And make sure he doesn't learn any bad words. Don't teach him any swearing. There are plenty of arseholes and bastards around who will teach him the wrong sisterfucking words. Keep him away from motherfuckers like that.
"I will."
3 komentáře:
ono to vypadá jako, že v bombayi na to koukají "moudře v souladu s hvězdným nebem nad sebou a s mravním zákonem v sobě". jenže to, čemu se podivují u evropanů nemusí být krize hodnot, ale jen navenek jiné chování v důsledku většího rozvoje společnosti a bohatství obyvatel. to, že někdo nežije se svými rodiči nebo, že někdo cestuje a nezakládá rodinu ve 20 letech může být jen odrazem toho, že si to prostě může dovolit. to z něj přece automaticky nedělá duševního chudáka. podle mně bombay může trochu trpět úžším viděním světa.
"No Marathi? No Hindi?"
"No. Only English."
"Holy Father! The poor fool."
možná v bombayi vypadají veselejší a mladší. ale možná ve skutečnosti nejsou.
Je to jen knížka. Pobavila mě ta logika, jinej pohled na svět, kterej není lékem k uzdravení světa, ani návodem na šťasný dožití. Nic takovýho. Jen radost z různosti...
J.
to bylo pro pobavení? tož to ja. :-)
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