Sorry
(e:ajay), didn't mean to offend, or give slight with my oh-so-careless use of the "c" word [inlink]ajay,165[/inlink]. I really have no idea how the Flamboya got there, or for that matter how there's bougainvillea in Dehli and San Diego. More of a colonization of agriculture and ideas than people and society. But as you say, India has a long history of colonization (which started way before the whities ever got there). And I agree that tons of cross-border integration can inspire wonderful meshings of concepts, cultures and cuisines.
Actually, in the same book,
The Age of Kali 
Dalrymple visits the island of Réunion

which is located miles south of India, halfway between Sri Lanka and Madagascar. There he finds a great mingling of cultures, ranging from exported French convicts to Madagascan ex-slaves with dashes of Tamils, North-Indian Muslims, Canton Chinese, and Yemeni Arabs (most of which were imported originally as slave-labor). Each of these cultures has brought with them a steady stream of peculiarites associated with their native lands, languages, religions, and cuisines. The result, after a couple hundred years is a truly unique blend of all of the above. He is told of an island legend:
"Grandmère Kale, who is said to live in the island's volcano, emerging to eat up Réunionais children who don't finish their homework, is a cross between the witches of European and African folklore, and Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction."
Later a Tamil (a people from Sri Lanka) Catholic priest tells him that, "In the same family you can find a Chinese Taoist, an Indian Muslim, a Metropolitan Catholic, an African witch-doctor and a Tamil Hindu...I have many Chinese Catholics in my parish who are involved in ancestor-worship, as well as Indian ones who believe in reincarnation...it is the same with other religions: the Hindus here all eat meat and perform blood sacrifices...and it probably derives from the African
gris gris [voodoo]."
Of course, some of the greatest cross-culture successes arise from the clash of cuisine. On the island they cook a unique brand of Créole which "mixes French and Indian culinary enthusiasm with a dash of Arab, Chinese, and Malagasy influence. The result is a fusion startlingly unlike any of its parent traditions. A typical Réunion meal might consist, for example, of
cari z'ourite et cari poulpe (a creamy sea urchin and octopus curry) with a scattering of side dishes of puy lentils,
choux choux (crystophene),
rougaille (a spicy tomato chutney) and
bredes (a spinach-like digestive); pudding might be
gâteau patate (a sweet, heavy potato-cake)."
The inhabitants mostly speak French but also use "an impenetrable Créole patois which mixes Malagasy, Tamil and Arabic on a base of eighteenth century nautical French."
Anyone want to go for an extended Indian sea vacation? Of course it's not all happy times, as the mostly poor agrarian residents slowly cope with the rise of international tourism and the complexities which come along. Like many other tourist destinations you find a few harbor towns enjoying the material wealth of vacationers while just a half-hour's walk away dwell farmers who have never used a telephone. The clash of cultures has somehow worked to the islander's advantage now it's time to see how the real clash of a globalized economy will play out on this beautiful melting-pot of an island.