There is a whole word importing culture not from United States but from other sources.
From India.
I'm speaking about literature, music and movies.
When in Europe we think about Bollywood, we think about B-movies with fatty dancers and incredibly long love stories between humans with no sex scene and no car accident. More or less is like this, but in Tibet, Indian movies was the non plus ultra of the imported goods.
Drudak, our driver in Lhasa was a little tacky and thug. The car was his empire, and one day, arriving to the office, I discovered that he just put fake bullet holes stickers along all the car side, just all around our NGO logo and that he installed, at his own expenses a small TV, just over the ashtray.
The interiors of the car were changing from leopard spotted to the Manchester United flag every month.
Anyway, he probably spent all his money on this TV, and so he had only one DVD to play. Video music from Bollywood movies.
I think I watched 'It's the time for Disco' at least 20 times every day, because the villages were very far.
A gang of women, beautiful and very fat compared to the LA standards dancing. The One Diva in front and 50 others in the back all making the same not very athletic and archaic typically Indian movements. Let's say that the lack of choreographer was repaid by the abundance of human being.
The song was technically very poor, but the girls twirling their wist were cute enough.
But then, something disgusting happened.
Another gang of men started to do the same hips shaking and hands cute movements, singing in play back.
And, if the Diva woman was beautiful, the man was, well, he was Shahrukh Khan always him since fifty years, always playing the role of the teen in love.
"Guys, do you really think is cool for a man in his late forties to dance in a disco with a group of men?"
But I wanted immediately to cut my fast tongue for telling to a group of Tibetan that the only foreign stuff allowed was in fact a crap.
But they just looked at me as my taste for art was completely underdeveloped. That, in fact, was the coolest thing to do for a real man. Also for Drudak, the one sticking fake bullet holes in the car.
So I shut up, and started to think about Fred Astaire and also Michael Jackson, all good dancer and looking cool, and I started to think that also other Hollywood movies, with some song and dance in the middle, would not appear ridiculous...No fucking way!
What would be of the Gladiator if he starts to dance in the arena with his fellows morituri te salutant?
Mr Crowe would have say goodbye to his Oscar, and to his fun club.
As a Gladiator would say: "to Caesar what is Caesar's...and to Indians what is Bollywood"
Amen
From India.
I'm speaking about literature, music and movies.
When in Europe we think about Bollywood, we think about B-movies with fatty dancers and incredibly long love stories between humans with no sex scene and no car accident. More or less is like this, but in Tibet, Indian movies was the non plus ultra of the imported goods.
Drudak, our driver in Lhasa was a little tacky and thug. The car was his empire, and one day, arriving to the office, I discovered that he just put fake bullet holes stickers along all the car side, just all around our NGO logo and that he installed, at his own expenses a small TV, just over the ashtray.
The interiors of the car were changing from leopard spotted to the Manchester United flag every month.
Anyway, he probably spent all his money on this TV, and so he had only one DVD to play. Video music from Bollywood movies.
I think I watched 'It's the time for Disco' at least 20 times every day, because the villages were very far.
A gang of women, beautiful and very fat compared to the LA standards dancing. The One Diva in front and 50 others in the back all making the same not very athletic and archaic typically Indian movements. Let's say that the lack of choreographer was repaid by the abundance of human being.
The song was technically very poor, but the girls twirling their wist were cute enough.
But then, something disgusting happened.
Another gang of men started to do the same hips shaking and hands cute movements, singing in play back.
And, if the Diva woman was beautiful, the man was, well, he was Shahrukh Khan always him since fifty years, always playing the role of the teen in love.
"Guys, do you really think is cool for a man in his late forties to dance in a disco with a group of men?"
But I wanted immediately to cut my fast tongue for telling to a group of Tibetan that the only foreign stuff allowed was in fact a crap.
But they just looked at me as my taste for art was completely underdeveloped. That, in fact, was the coolest thing to do for a real man. Also for Drudak, the one sticking fake bullet holes in the car.
So I shut up, and started to think about Fred Astaire and also Michael Jackson, all good dancer and looking cool, and I started to think that also other Hollywood movies, with some song and dance in the middle, would not appear ridiculous...No fucking way!
What would be of the Gladiator if he starts to dance in the arena with his fellows morituri te salutant?
Mr Crowe would have say goodbye to his Oscar, and to his fun club.
As a Gladiator would say: "to Caesar what is Caesar's...and to Indians what is Bollywood"
Amen
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