Shout Out #21
Trip Start
Jun 05, 2006
1
24
41
Trip End
Ongoing
Jaipur,
India
Saturday, June 2, 2007
01
. Jantar Mantar could be the one exception. As Mughal power dwindled, the Rajput leader Maharaja Jai Singh II felt more comfortable moving from his fort in Amber. Jaipur is the city he built; Jantar Mantar is the impressive astrological/astronomical observatory he built within the city. Among several other impressive devices for measuring sun angles, latitude, longitude, zodiac stars, and such, it has the world's largest sun dial- accurate to 2 seconds. I happened to visit on the equinox, a day when certain devices don't work because the sun precisely follows the equator. It was a funny reminder that days in the summer are longer than days in the winter. A year of constant travel has created some detachment from the earth's cyclical habits.
Outside the observatory, a snake charmer paid more attention to whether I'd given his friend money than he did to being charming. I suspected the use of performance enhancing sedatives on the snake.
At a certain point in the afternoon I grew tired of palaces and museums and being watched like an exhibit in those palaces and museums. Sometimes I can ignore the stares and sometimes it gets old. Oftentimes I'll smile to break the stare and oftentimes it works. Occasionally my smile did nothing- wouldn't even cause a blink- and it can feel like being a void in space or a stuffed Caucasian in Caucasian clothes
02
. I decided to take a back alley route out of the Pink City, down a busy road with fruit and vegetable carts, onto a quieter street behind the city walls, into a park, past the gypsies- a boy playing a dholak drum (two-sided folk drum) and girls dancing in bright saris, and everybody wanting baksheesh (technically translated as 'bribe', informally used as 'a tip') for pictures (but all asking in a fun and friendly way and having a blast seeing themselves in the display and wanting to take more pictures (not for baksheesh) and wanting to bring in more friends (who wanted baksheesh)) and I had to make my escape...back into the Pink City by walking past a guard who stamped his foot and saluted as I went through the much smaller entry gate. Musicians were setting up in a Hindu temple nearby. Hindu worship is primarily an individual act so the services are generally casual. People come and go and meditate or sing along with the mantras the musicians sing. In a bustling city it's actually possible to find serenity in some of the temples. I sat on a rug next to a man who'd offered me space and listened for a few minutes before facing the noise again...much more calmly.
Not far from the temple I heard running feet behind me- something that always triggers my defensive instincts. Two boys slowed to a walk when I looked back, like they had meant to be less obvious. They walked fast enough to catch me then slowed to stay by my side without hinting at wanting to talk or interact at all
03
. I got the impression they wanted it to appear like a coincidental encounter; like random circumstances brought us into the same stride side-by-side in the street. I decided to speak, "Hello, how are you?" They nodded but said nothing. Thinking they spoke no English I kept walking with them coincidentally by my side. A few minutes later they pointed to my tattoo and read it aloud. Surprised that they read English, I asked if they spoke English too. "A little. You speak Hindi?" "I only know a few words."
We walked further, getting back into the touristy part of the Pink City, and an auto-rickshaw wallah pulled up. He could take me for free or for a fare, it was my choice. I opted for neither. The free ride meant stops at an unspecified number of commission stores where I could pretend to shop and waste my time and the time of the salesman so the driver can get paid. When I said no and the driver left, one of the boys said, "Rickshaw driver very hungry." (Yeah great, thanks kid. We walk all this way without saying more than 5 words and when you do speak, it's a guilt trip for wanting to use my own feet.) Coincidentally we came to the main portal out of the walls and coincidentally the kids and I were going in separate directions.
I took the guilt and decided to hire a cycle-rickshaw to get me back to my room
04
. An old guy pedaling by shockingly refused to take me. Across the street I approached another guy lounging in the passengers perch. He jumped up, patted the seat for me to sit down, and quoted 30 rupees in poor English. The ride became an instant classic. In heavy traffic he shouted at cars and pedestrians- anyone within the vicinity- battled down the street, and then asked me for directions by pointing in various directions. I started to think he may not have it all together upstairs. The problem was that I didn't know how to get back either. I also didn't know how to tell the driver that I didn't know how to get there. With the vague Lonely Planet map I worked out the general direction for us. On the main road outside the old city walls we passed a naked man lying on the curb in the median. We'd gone the wrong direction and had to make a u-turn. Once situated- yelling at people as we went the right way- he held up five fingers indicating that the 2 minute diversion was going to cost me. (Alright, but you better keep yelling and acting up. The transportation's no longer what I'm paying for.) On the next u-turn he didn't bother trying to cross traffic. He simply jumped off, did a 180, and pedaled the wrong way down the road...yelling and waving at all the pedestrians and cyclists not watching the crazy man coming from the wrong direction with a laughing white guy on the back. We made the turn and I had him drop me off
05
. With 6 fingers I saw that he wanted even more. I held up 5 fingers, an amount I was only paying because I liked him. He held up 6 again and put his hands to his head implying a very brain taxing ride. I pulled out my money clip to give him the 50 and he saw that I also had a 100. Eagerly 10 fingers went into the air and his head began to nod. If he had 15 fingers he would've gone for both the 50 and the 100. I paid the 50 and he pedaled off like I'd just stiffed him. Instead, I had just paid 5 times the common fare and wasn't home yet. I made it to my room after getting lost several times, walking long distances, and hiring an auto-rickshaw to get me out of the confusion. Then I passed out on the bed after chugging 2 bottles of water. 2 hours later I woke up wondering what day it was; only 7:30 on the same day- still enough time to get to the internet and the large amount of writing I had waiting for me. The computers in my hotel were in use so I went to the main road. A man called out right as I hit the street. I said hello and kept walking. He kept coming and indicated that he just wanted to talk. So I talked and kept walking. He spoke about the U.S. and Bush, India and the problem of lower classes not having work, how the streets are full of trash but the government just wants big buildings, and the Spanish man he met who'd been carrying a cigarette butt in his wallet for a month because he couldn't find a trash can
06
. It was a good story that made no sense because nobody only smokes one cigarette. Either the Spanish man was making a point or my new friend was full of shit. When he spoke of life and the nature of being a good person I stopped walking and agreed to join him for chai. Over chai he asked where I'd been in India and took particular interest in my visit to Gulmarg. He's originally from a village near Gulmarg and asked if I'd met some people there. "Mostly foreigners and some of the hotel employees and people in the snowboard shop. Oh yeah, I also met this guy named Radi." He thought that perhaps, just maybe, he knew Radi and described him as 'shorter, pulls a sledge, and has bad English'. That sounds like Radi. I even said Radi looks kind of like him, Rashid. He didn't mention it at first (a clue about his shadiness) be Rashid is Radi's brother. Then I remembered Radi's problem and how it would somehow be solved if I went to Jaipur with him, to visit his brother...too crazy.
Rashid thought Radi was in a nearby mosque. He bought our chais and we went to find a man who'd once walked into my room uninvited. The randomness of the encounter is the only reason I had for wanting to find him. I waited outside while Rashid looked around. A street-dog came by so I tried to befriend it. First he treated me skeptically and wouldn't get within arms reach. It took a few minutes but he ultimately let me pet his belly with my sandal. In a few more minutes I decided both Rashid and Radi weren't worth the wait. I walked toward my hotel and the dog followed. I don't know how it was done but Rashid walked towards me from down the street. He wanted to meet tomorrow so Radi could show me around. "I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow." (That's not going to be it.)
2 minutes later, almost at my hotel, a man came up with obvious frustration and asked why foreigners don't like Indians
07
. (Oh man, that's a tough one. How can I put it?) "It's not that they don't like Indians, it's that tourists are constantly approached and it makes it hard to know who legitimately..." He cut me off and said there are 5 fingers on a hand, each one is different. It was the first time I'd heard that phrase. Typically it's used to mean that we're all one but we're not all the same. I came to understand it as the phrase touts used when I didn't want to talk with them. "Sure, the other 4 guys might have tried to sell clothes but I just want to show you some nice jewelry." His friend came up and asked where I was from. "America...Colorado." "Oh, Colorado...beautiful city."
He understood what I was saying about how tourists are frequently approached for business...then he asked if I wanted to hire him for the next day. The first guy walked off and returned a few minutes later. He apologized for leaving (I hadn't noticed) and said he was crying over someone he missed. Then he asked if I believed in tomorrow. "No. That's why I'm not going to hire this guy." He went into a rant about the woman he was missing and something she must have said about his future, and how he replied to her, "Let's fuck now. I don't believe in the future." Then he asked if I wanted to join him for a drink. "No thanks, I don't drink. I just want to get to the internet."
Throughout the talk the dog sat curled behind my feet
08
. When I left, he followed. When I turned down the alley toward my hotel, he stopped and watched me go. A separate group of dogs ran the show in the alley. The same group of dogs who'd kept me up all night with their territorial barking. I found no internet places on the main road. The computers in my hotel were still in use so I checked around the alley. A group of men not far from my place wanted to talk; a group I correctly assumed to be gem dealers. Most of the stores in the area sold gems and precious stones. Prakesh, the main person I spoke with, told me about showing an American man around and how the American man said he could visit him in his home in Germany. Prakesh ultimately did visit and was angered by the lack of hospitality. I understood his point but took it to mean he generally gave to receive. With that assumption in mind, I accepted his offer of chai in his shop.
Rather than pulling out necklaces, he had photos of different foreigners taking food to kids in a slum. Aside from arranging food donations, he had a crafts project to help generate income for the families, and he was working to build a room for the kids- a place where they could have school, music, or just space to play. He wanted support in providing food or buying construction supplies. I agreed to take food the next day...if tomorrow existed. Before leaving he gave me a business card and told me not to show it to any Indians. "That's odd (suspicious), why not?" He then showed me a photo of a guy who'd copied his card and tried to scam people for money based on his projects. There was a long story about confronting the guy and putting an end to it.
In the morning I made it to his shop in time to see his opening preparations. He swept the floor outside his shop, cleaned the glass on his display, and lit incense and wafted it around the shrine in the corner, the front door, and the display counter while he said prayers
09
. He then prayed with a string of beads in his hand, moving each of the 108 beads through his hand with his thumb. He then closed the shop and we went to buy food.There's a shitting field next to the slum. A concrete trough full of nasty water and sewage runs through the narrow alleys. The homes are brick and concrete rooms haphazardly put together. Prakesh led me to a home the approximate size of a small walk-in closet. 2 babies slept on a blanket next to a woman in a colorful sari. She was going to cook all the food. The half-built children's room was nearby. It still needed a floor, roof, and door. We stayed long enough to leave the food, look at the room, and plan a time to return in the afternoon.
I had a few hours so I continued on my quest to use the internet. The computers in my hotel were down. On my way to the next spot I bumped into Prakesh's 2 friends. Because I'd gone to the colony with Prakesh, they said I was 1 in 1000 Americans. (Awww shucks.) Ram wanted me to join him for tea (in his shop) but I really wanted to get to a computer. I told him I'd been trying for a day already (and I keep talking with people who want something from me).
I made it to the internet place but they said they wouldn't be able to make change for a 500 rupee note. I've seen no other country where small money is more cherished
10
. It's constantly a problem because all my money comes from the ATM in 500s, a virtually unusable denomination. (500 R approximately equals $12.50) There's a constant game I have to play with vendors. If the sale is 40 R, I'll pay with a 100 so I can get the change. They'll almost always ask if I have smaller currency. Even if I have exactly 40, I'll use the 100 and make him dig into his secret stash of small bills he's worked to gather. Almost everyone has a secret collection of the smallest currency to be found and almost nobody wants to use it. I've even had a rickshaw driver take 4 rupees when the fare was 5 just because I had exact change and he wanted to have the small coins for his stash.I went back and asked Ram if he could break my 500. He could...from inside his shop. Like Prakesh, he didn't point out his jewelry. Instead, he told me that he's not a fan of Americans (aside from me of course)- Indians give their heart and most Americans don't recognize it. I understood what he meant and slipped out when his phone rang- he'd mostly given me a piece of his mind.
With usable currency I sat at the computer, clicked on Explorer, and...the power went out. It just wasn't meant to be.
When I met Prakesh that afternoon, he was talking with a Swedish girl named Caroline. She studies religion and came to India for a religious experience
11
. In talking with her over the next few days I learned much more about Hindu culture. Prakesh and I left for the colony while Caroline rested- it was the day for her weekly fast.All the kids gathered around the walls of their future play room. They had metal plates, bowls, or whatever they owned for eating with, and forks or spoons. Prakesh and I then scooped out a portion of dal and a portion of rice for each of the kids. It was surprisingly cordial until the first half left to eat and the second half wanted theirs. They crowded in and jockeyed for position with their plates. It just added to the fun.
After dinner one of the boys played a dholak while a group of other boys danced to the beat. One boy, maybe 10 years old, smoked a bidi (thin cigarettes rolled in a leaf) pridefully in front of me. He then joined the dance and had the best moves- albeit somewhat erotic moves- of all the kids.
The next morning I saw Caroline having breakfast with a friend. Her friend is an adamant freedom fighter for Tibet and they had met in Daramsala, the home for Tibet's government in exile. She spoke of plans for boycotting the Olympics in China and a peaceful protest being scheduled in front of all the Chinese embassies. She also told me Amma (http://www.amritapuri.org/) was coming to Jaipur in a few days. That's why she came down from Daramsala and that's why my stay in Jaipur was now going to be prolonged.
