Only in India

Every day there are little things that happen that I want to write home about. Things that make me say, “nobody would even believe it if I told them” or “only in India”. Things that make you smile and think. “Only in India” do the trucks play a Bollywood tune as the signal for backing up. The streets are generally a concert of surprises. Aside from the incessant honking which you eventually learn to drain out, there are the street vendors yelling out the items they have on offer, each to a different tune, at a different pitch… “madam, shoes… shoes, madam… 100 rupees” or “chaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” or some have these honkers that they just use instead of yelling out. And then there are the crows cawing, picking at the piles of garbage, which is lying out on almost every corner. And you’re almost sure to have a beggar pop into the picture every now and then. If the beggar is old, they will have that faint, desperate murmur. If it is children beggars they will pester you in that high pitch playful voice; “didi, two rupees, two rupees”, “guri, what is your name?”, “one dollar, one dollar”… they sometimes even break into song with some clever words changed to ask for money. My favorite is their rendition of jingle bells. Children can be the most aggressive because they are the naughtiest and most mischievous. Once, in town, these girls were asking me for money and I said no and walked ahead, but they continued to follow me with great perseverance (which is most common). When I pulled a granola out of my bag though, they attacked... I had two 7-10 year old girls hanging from my arms like monkeys, swatting at the granola bar... It was really crazy! I might have given it to them and admitted defeat had I not been so hungry (yes, Ariel!) but I just kept trying to shake them off. Finally as one of them was literally strangling me, hanging from my neck, my friend whipped out a mentos pack and threw it... they ran to fetch it... laughed at the guris (foreigners) who they had successfully freaked out, and walked away to enjoy their treasure. If it is someone who has been injured or is handicapped (most likely mutilated at birth by his beggar master) he will just jingle his box of coins at you and when you turn around, he’ll point to the mutilated part of his body, and then jingle the box again. Oh! And my all time favorite are the hijras/eunuchs. Actually I can’t stand them. This is a community of hermaphrodites (some are born that way, some are castrated, some are just cross dressers) that have existed in India for centuries and are considered to be very “auspicious” (this is the all time favorite Indian word… everything is either auspicious or not auspicious). So people usually will give them money, because they will otherwise put a curse on you. So they can be extremely aggressive. Sometimes they travel in packs and they’ll march onto the train like they own the place and start walking up to the passengers clapping in their faces and then sticking out their hand. Once I was coming home from work and one approached me in my rickshaw and would not relent, he/she kept clapping in my face and then actually put his/her hand on my leg… I got so angry and yelled “chal haat” (get lost!) but nothing phases them… he/she just kackled and walked away.

Wow! I had no idea I could write so much about the beggars. But now that I think of it, I could go on for pages. Each is so unique and the whole world that surrounds them is devastating and fascinating.

I will start posting little tidbits like these every couple days. So stay tuned… cause the stories never end!