Friday, November 10, 2006

A Lighter Addendum

I left the email terminal in Kathmandu last night a tad bit drained after writing that last post, and I fear the reading of it will be similarly intense. So I thought a lighter coda might be welcome, for both you and me. Here are a few choice observations, one month in…
-Agra has had the most diverse wildlife so far. Mixed in with the humans, cars, motorbikes, bicycles and such in the busy streets of Agra, we saw cows, oxen, donkeys, dogs, cats, birds of various plumage, quite a few cheeky monkeys, a rooster and one rather bored camel. I took a picture of the camel; he looked at me, smacked his lips, and was altogether unmoved.
-The craziest thing about handmade carpets is that they are actually made by hand. We went to a carpet showroom and watched two men at a loom furiously knot and slice the wool thread at dizzying speeds. Then the manager ushered us into his showroom and had his boys unfurl carpet after magnificent carpet at our unworthy feet. Each one took anywhere from three months to four years to complete. After thirty minutes, however, his sales pitches bore no fruit. Little did he know that Ryan and I have thus far only spent money on food, water, shelter, and a few necessary pieces of clothing; it goes without saying that carpets don’t fit into our $6-10/day budget. The owner finally turned to me and asked what kind of carpet I was looking for. So I asked him if he had any that could fly. I explained to him that in that case I could justify the purchase as part of our transportation expenses. He paused and then flashed a hasty smile. All hopes of a sale were dashed, and Ryan and I (and our tight budget) made a quick exit.
-I knew I had really been in India a while when I recognized the tune of a poplar Hindi pop song on someone’s cell phone ring.
-The respect of your fellow travelers in the exciting-and-exotic-and-conveniently-cheap developing world seems directly proportional to the level of your disregard for personal safety. Example of a hypothetical American neo-cowboy: “Yeah, I went to Kashmir. No big deal, not dangerous at all. I wasn’t scared for a second. Next I’m going to Pakistan for a weekend holiday. Then I’m going to Iran where I plan to run through the streets naked, waving my American passport, and yell at them to accept Jesus as their savior.” Murmurs of awe and approval rippled through the dirty and unshaven backpacker crowd…
-Three things that have made me feel really free:
1. Hurtling down jam-packed Indian streets in the back of an auto-rickshaw, a peppy little three-wheeled tuk-tuk powered by a zupped-up outboard lawnmower engine, usually driven by a crazed Indian man with a death wish and a pension for squeezing into nonexistent spaces between cars, motorbikes, dividing walls, massive trucks and cows alike.
2. Deciding after a shower one night that my too-long tresses absolutely had to go, and then taking a pair of scissors and chopping a good five to six inches off myself. I now proudly sport a just-above-the-shoulder-length, randomly layered do that bounces and curls quite nicely and is not such a bitch to clean. And I look really cute.
3. The Punjabi-style genius of fashion that is the kurta salwar. Loose and light baggy cotton pants, a short-sleeved tunic top and a pretty scarf in colors so bright that it looks like a box of crayola crayons threw up on you. It’s cool in the heat and keeps warm air around your skin in the cold, and garners either respect or giggles from Indian passersby. Mom, you’d appreciate it; it’s really just a culturally acceptable way to wear pajamas all day. And the pants make me feel like I’m a genie who’s just busted out of her lamp. Hoowah!

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