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Published: March 31st 2011
Let me just start by saying that I’m writing this while watching the sun set over the Taj Mahal (and while drinking a beer) from a rooftop restaurant in Agra. So please bear with me if this isn’t my best piece of work 😊
After a couple of weeks on the ground in India, I'm finally getting a feel for the lay of the land and the people here, and I've decided that India really is a wonderful place. The food, sights, and festivals have all been fantastic so far, and the people have been out-of-this-world friendly. In fact, they've been so ridiculously friendly that I've decided that they are just a little TOO nice. I’ve been thinking there has to be some dastardly plot behind all of the bend-over-backwards kindness, and I think I've come across a dirty little Indian Secret – a Phase II to Mohandas “Mahatma” Gandhi’s Satyagraha (plan for revolution and independence through nonviolent protests / resistance to foreign rule). I’m giving this Phase II the title “Kill Them with Kindness” as I believe the Indian people really are trying to eliminate all foreigners through acts of EXTREME kindness. Here are some of the key directives
/ activities of the “Death by Kindness” strategy that I have discovered so far.
Death by Gastronomy: *SPICE - Indians always offer tourists a “mildly” spicy option for their meals, but it often still comes set to “atomic inferno” by western standards. Fortunately I’ve been forging my stomach with lots of practice in Mexico over the past few years, so the spice has been fine by me. But I rarely find a tourist now who is brave enough to try “mild” anymore; they usually go for “little” or “no” spice and still barely make it out alive.
*ABUNDANCE - As I mentioned in my last post, in the markets they are literally trying to feed me until I burst. I often try to refuse politely, but they definitely won’t take no for an answer. And, once I’ve agreed to try something, they often go just that extra step to make it a little bit dangerous – like taking a popsicle and rolling it in tap water (which I’m not really supposed to drink) so they can add a nice outer layer of shaved coconut. AND, to add a healthy dose of guilt to all of this
corpulence-inducing kindness, they somehow always manage to politely deny any of my offers to share my food with them.
Death by Distraction: *Indians always seem to stare at me as though they are really interested in what I’m doing. I think this is just a ploy to cause potentially injurious accidents which I will be caught up in. So far I have already caused one motorcycle to slam into the back of a rickshaw (at about 5-10 mph) because the driver was so intently starting at me. And there have been more than a few narrow misses too. Fortunately there have been no injuries (to me or others) on my account yet . . .
*Continuing on the theme of distraction, it seems that every Indian has been instructed to shout “hello” at foreigners. This may not seem like much, but when you are walking down a street with motorbikes whizzing by at all speeds and directions, the “hellos” make you feel as though you are in a 3D shooting gallery trying to figure out who you need to respond to next. I’ve literally done multiple pirouettes in the street to find a small child
5 stories up shouting his lungs out through a small crack in a window just to get my attention. It’s definitely cute, but it’s also very dizzying.
*And one more point on the dangers of distraction and traffic. When it comes to crossing the streets, I try to be quite careful. There’s just one problem with this plan – at least one person will stop in a car, motorbike, rickshaw, tractor, or even a camel-drawn cart to shake my hand and say hello as I’m crossing the street. And it seems that the busier the intersection the more likely I am to get stopped. I’ve actually been stopped by two old men on a tractor trying to walk across a big traffic circle. I was definitely out of my league there. Fortunately I was able to use the tractor to shield myself from the motorcycles that were flying by on all sides.
Death by Contortion: *Whenever I get on a bus, no matter how crowded it is (and they are ALWAYS crowded), someone always makes room for me to sit down (no matter if there are a lot of other people already standing). More often
than not it’s usually the driver who makes some extra room in the front cabin so I can sit with him and 5 of his closest friends. Now, there are two problems with this. The first is that the front cabin is usually only accessible through a SMALL window, so I’m forced to do some pretty miraculous acrobatics (i.e. a diving roll into a somersault) to get in. Then, once I’ve managed to get through, the “seat” provided is usually wide enough for about one half of one of my butt cheeks, so I have to do some nifty shifting to make sure I don’t crush the guys next to me. And on one of these bus rides I got to sit on the engine casing next to the driver. This had me facing backwards towards the full bus. One of the passengers spoke a little English, so he played translator as the whole bus spent ninety minutes asking me every possible question they could think of.
*A few weeks back, I had to buy a last-minute overnight train ticket which means that I had to go second class (general) for the twelve-hour ride. Now, second class is the
type of train car you are used to seeing in movies where it’s packed to the brim and then some, so I was a wee bit worried about how I was going to manage. When I got on, though, it didn’t seem too bad. There were two levels of seating, and there were a couple of open spaces on the benches. It wasn’t until about 10 minutes later as more people piled in that I realized that it wasn’t actually double-decker seating. People were actually sitting and sleeping as the luggage racks! And, as more and more luggage came aboard, the car quickly turned to standing-room only. Fortunately, as was the case with buses, the Indians on board were SUPER kind and made sure I had a place to sit. Crammed in shoulder to shoulder, I was actually feeling pretty good. I can sleep like that. The problem arose about an hour into the ride when one extra seat opened up, and the nice guys in my part of the car told me to use it to lay down (10 of them were still standing). I tried to get one of them to sit, but they flatly refused. They really
wanted me to lay down. I think this was possibly some kind of twisted humor, because I had to try to lay down in a space wide enough for two very skinny Indian butts! And I’m NOT that flexible. So for the next hour, I nearly had my head in some guys lap while one leg was twisted around a pole and I don't know where the other one was because I lost all feeling to it!!! My best guess is that it was somewhere behind my left ear. After the hour was up, I think I passed some kind of endurance test because then they cleared out another two seats and let me lay down. It felt amazing, but I felt bad because there were still people standing. I tried to get them to take some of the seats, but everyone refused to sit until I could lay flat. So amazingly kind! Minus the twisted foreigner contortionist test that is.
Funny Points:
1. A kid asked me if I was poor because I couldn’t afford pants (I was wearing shorts).
2. A couple of days ago I had to cross the street and between stepping off one
curb and getting to the next I walked past 1 pig and 3 piglets, 2 puppies, 1 cat, 5 goats, 2 cows, 1 donkey, a camel, and about 30 monkeys. And it was just a narrow back street in small town. I kept waiting for some more goats to show up with monkeys riding them like thoroughbreds!
3. A kid really liked my beard today and kept calling me "Ali Baba."
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Jennifer
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I really like the composition of this photo :)