Riots

Apparently India hasn't heard of rubber bullets and tear gas. There was some degree of anxiety regarding caste-related riots in Jaipur, as city trains and buses must go through the riots to get to Delhi, but things seemed to calm down and the bus-ways opened. So, we bought tickets, and the next day the same riot moved to Delhi where our plane flies, which blocked our bus route. There are options for getting to Delhi, but they aren't fun. Right now the talk is leaving first thing in the morning and taking a longer train around the riots which will be pretty expensive over all. They are attempting to "bring the country to a standstill", something I hope happens after we leave. If all else fails we'll have to take a plane flight on our parents' dollar and pay them back over time.

In other news, life has been good in Udaipur. I did buy a sitar, here's hoping it makes it back to the states. Brittany had sarees made and they look great. I don't have much more time for an update.

I'll Take Jesus for Six Million, Alex

Culture shock takes on many aspects. Denial, home-sickness, disgust, or awe. I confess, when I first landed in Delhi I really wondered what I was in for as the sour smell of pollution assaulted me. And that's really what India does, it assaults you in every way possible. The Lonely Planet guide book, the bible of India travel, depicts a vivid culture full of color and wonder. I walked out of the airport to see the smog and dirt against the sepia tones of dim street lights.

Culture shock set in, but it was more a sense of wonder more than disgust. It could have been denial, I don't know; what I did know before I ever stepped foot on a plane was that nothing can prepare you for India. So, when I left the airport and got into my first Indian taxi I was immediately taken in by how the adventurous the average car ride really was. I didn't know it was so polluted, trashed, and unorganized. I mean, I kind of knew that things would be unorganized, but I had no idea that things were unorganized right down to a lack of traffic signals. I didn't know it would smell bad, I had envisioned a land of incense. I imagined bright and vivid colors everywhere, and they are, but they are also supplemented by the dirty streets. I also never imagined curry would get old and I would long for a good burger.

A couple of nights ago, Brittany and I made a list of everything we missed. Of course, we miss friends like Chris, Rebecca, Stephanie, Suzie, Kristina, and friends from work. Of course, we miss family. We rarely see our family anyway, but being half way around the world will make you miss your family. We miss our cat. Then there are the western commodities like clean bathrooms with toilet-paper, being able to drink tap water, central air conditioning, clean and organized streets where more signs maintain safer control and blinkers indicate a lane change, less noise, a more sensitive culture, working internet, and the list goes on. Then we miss certain food and drink. You know you can't just buy peanut butter here? We miss cheesecake, burgers, alfredo, a proper gin and tonic (with clean ice and real lime), steak, etc.

Then there are things I will miss about India. Today, I walked less than a kilometer from my hotel and came back with two mangoes, three bananas, two portions of curd (yogurt), and three bottled waters. Grand total? Less than $2 all together. We bought corn flakes, raisins, and almonds the other day. Mix them altogether and you get a great breakfast the Indians call museli (spelled several ways). Delicious. I'll miss the incredibly low fruit and vegetable prices, the ease of public transportation, mom and pop shops, cheap Indian food on every corner, the way everything has an art to it, the vivid colors in the traditional clothing, and meeting so many new people all of the time. I'll miss being able to walk everywhere, petting cows (which I do in secret, as not to offend locals), the prevalence of chai, and even the heat. There's something to be said for spending a long day in the sun and heat, walking everywhere you go. It changes a person on so many levels. There is, of course, the physical aspect of being in shape and weight loss. But exercise is good for you in that it helps you sleep better. Being out in the sun is also healthy, and a lot of research shows it's not just about getting vitamin E but the sun also helps reduce depression. And the heat? It's nice to have a safe-haven where I can use AC at will, but the heat is nice in that curbs my appetite some.

Brittany and I have been reading the book Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris, a humor writer. He talks about being in France and the way everyone talks bad about America as if Sedaris embodied America. They might be at the table talking about America and instead of saying "America's latest policy is horrible" they would look at Sedaris apprehensively and say "Your latest policy is horrible". The same goes here. At the beginning of this month George Bush partially blamed the food shortage on the large populations of Indians and Chinese. While, person for person, Americans consume more food, the sheer numbers in India and China mean they have a higher food consumption. So, in a sense Bush was right, and on the other hand, I'm not sure how Bush expected India and China to take it. And when people ask how America is doing, as if the country is a good friend of mine, I always say "The economy isn't doing so well, but things are going as well as they might." and they usually say "Yes, but it's because you keep blaming your problems on everyone else. You say we are eating all the food, but you eat so much."

I know it is cliché, but to be honest, both countries could learn a great deal from each other. It's so easy to point the finger at another country, but just being in India I recognize that America isn't so innocent as we think. I know a great deal of Americans, myself included recognize many problems with the government and certain groups of people, but that wasn't fully realized for me until I took a step back. It's pretty annoying, actually, to hear people complain about America here. India accuses America of being wasteful, yet they discard trash just about anywhere that's convenient, only for their holy cows to come and eat. I'm not veterinarian, but I imagine plastic bags are not the best thing for a cow's diet.

India is not a country where the corporations have taken over so much. There is no Wal-Mart. Because India is still "developing" there's actually not such a shortage on jobs. The problem is two-fold. First, the caste system prevents the expansion of jobs. Second, a lot of the poverty is induced. Parents cut the limbs off of their children, so their children have a better chance of getting sympathy when they beg. If I give five rupees to a child, who knows where it will go, but I seriously doubt it is his or hers to keep. Husbands who are dissatisfied with their wives will stage a kitchen fire. Sometimes the women survive, but no only really cares; she must have had it coming.

The unassertive culture is depressing at times. Service goes right up to the mandate, and after that you're on your own. If you go into a store with an elevator, they would rather you wait five minutes for the elevator than waste energy running up stairs. Yet, when it comes time to get change, if the cashier doesn't have it, it's not unusual for them to refuse to get change from their neighbor. It is your problem, not theirs.

India is best taken by rolling with the punches. We must realize that much of what we see in the culture of India is based within a system that was developed long before Western society invaded. Then we have to realize that much of what we see in this society is a reaction to the invasion of Western society. Rajasthan was once feudal, which I believe is the direct conclusion of the caste system. It eventually united, and now each town has a palace and/or fort of some sort in which a maharajah still lives today. They mostly serve as philanthropists. Women put eye-liner on their small children, boy or girl, to keep demons out.

If there's one thing I've come to realize, it's that everything I've learned about evangelism is useless. Most of you know I don't believe in conventional door-to-door or street evangelism as effective. But I always gave organizations like Evangelism Explosion the benefit of the doubt, figuring that it would surely be effective in a third-world country. But I'd love to see how those methods are effective. In a country where a polytheistic religion is a way of life, tradition, and religion all at the same time how to do you tell someone they need your god instead of their own?

Am I suggesting the India can't be "saved"? Of course not. God opens doors through crude methods and even bad theology. And Christianity is ever growing in India. I'm not sure it is through running up to Hindus and telling them to drop their six million gods for Jesus, because Indians are so different from Americans in their reaction to such evangelism. It will take Christians in India showing the love of Jesus in a place where gods crumble physically and spiritually. Showing the love of Jesus in a place that has a broken and prejudice system. It will start slow, but to attempt to speed it up can do more harm than good.

Looks like we'll be taking a bus to Delhi as train is not an option and planes are expensive. Please keep us in prayer as the buses may be safe one day and unsafe the next. If they are unsafe, we will be fine, but our bus will be cancelled and we long for home and I'd hate to miss our flight.

Another Adventurous Day in Udaipur

First this article just came to our attention and may ruin plans to get to Delhi and fly out. Riots are usually short, but the damage may be long term. If they end soon enough we can simply take a bus, which is really undesirable and possibly dangerous. If worse comes to worse I think we can fly, but that's expensive.

I guess it has been a while since I've made a real post, but the story goes back to Thursday. Thursday is when the saree (also spelled "sari") shopping began. Sarees are traditional Indian wear that ranges from everyday use to wedding use. Some are the equivalent of a cheap beach dress, while others the equivalent to a wedding dress. Traditionally, the only other thing a woman might wear is a salwar kamese (Brittany has a few we had tailored) which is a long shirt, baggy pants, and a dupata (long piece of decorative cloth worn around the neck). There was one shop that was recommended that had a couple of used sarees we liked (when buying used you must be meticulous, but used can be better as the silk is already broken in). We wanted to gauge prices so we hired an auto driver to take us to a really nice saree shop. Of course, most places will give an auto driver a commission, so we knew better than to buy. On the way we picked out another saree place close to the one he took us to. He dropped us off and we went inside. We kept giving them a price range and they kept showing us stuff that was double the price-range, so we simply left. We checked out the place across the street and our former auto driver yelled at me from across the street. I took a close look just to make sure, and yes, he was giving me the bird. I admit, I might have had a better reaction, but without thinking I gave him the best middle finger and the most sarcastic look I could muster. I know it was terrible and that's a dirty sign, and giving it back doesn't really solve anything. I followed my gut reaction without thinking. While it wasn't a good or right thing to do, it was kind of comical in some way.

He rushed across the street, dodging oncoming motorcycles and cars and I found very quickly the perfect middle finger I was so proud of hadn't phased him and he was upset we hadn't bought from the shop. He shouldn't have known. For all he knew we were having them tailored and sent to our door, which is very common. He knew because he went back for his commission. It's kind of the most threatened I've felt since I've been in India. The man looked demon possessed, I don't think he was, I mean, I think he was just cracked out on drugs. I simply told the guy that if he didn't get away from Brittany and I, that I would either report him or get violent. So, he got in his auto rickshaw and came to us and then asked us if he could take us some other place, but we ignored him and he left for good.

The next day we woke up early, after all, our hotel is directly across from the Jagdesh temple and Vishnu demands a half hour of incessant and obnoxious bell ringing at six in the morning. It's like having a hangover, only we didn't drink the night before. Once up and going, Brittany went to the internet cafe to add more pictures and I went for my sitar lesson.

Saresh is a good teacher, and very patient with me. Sitar is actually really hard, much harder than any other instrument I've tried to play (perhaps with the exception of violin). It's not really like you imagine it. First thing is you only play the bottom string with your left hand. Like, you strum all of the strings, but the only string you actually fret is the bottom string. Then you are only supposed to use your index and middle finger to fret. You would think this instrument would be far easier than guitar, maybe it is once you get used to it , but the instrument itself is a bit clumsy to hold. It's not only difficult to hold, but pretty much any way you sit with it your legs or backside is uncomfortable; in fact, the proper classical position is like yoga. If you're used to the fret positions of a guitar, you'll quickly find that it doesn't work the same, as the next fret may or may not be a semi-tone difference. The playability is stiff and it's like trying to play a guitar with incredibly high action with an incredibly high-gauge unwound string. Of course, maybe like 2 people will actually understand what I'm talking about. Basically it's hard to hold and it hurts to play. Like guitar, I'm sure you get used to it and with practice it comes more natural.

In all honesty, I'm not head-over-heels for the instrument. It sounds pretty cool and it's really novel, and I'm a fast learner on it, but it doesn't really hold my attention. After a lesson I'm more or less disenchanted with it and don't really feel like picking it up. On one hand, I feel like I only wanted a sitar for the novelty, like the "I have one and you don't" thing or that I'd buy one just because I'm afraid I'll regret not getting one, and on the other hand, it really would be cool to have. It has unique sounds, that I like, and it could really be fun to write music on it. So far, I've only played one sitar I like the sound and feel of enough to drop money on it and it comes out to Rs9500, which is roughly $240USD. Musicians will say that's a good price and everyone else will find it expensive. I did poke around online and I found that buying a sitar in the United States usually starts at $400 for a beginner model (I confess I didn't do much research, so you may find better) and for a middle-of-the-line professional-level like the one I like it's at least $600.

I guess it really depends on money, as the $600 the government owed us is no longer an issue, but I did some math and if I want any money left when I get home I would do well to not use most of it. Then again, if certain things cost less than expected I'll be able to get one, otherwise it will be a non-issue and I won't have the money. I admit, in a sense it isn't disappointing, like there's this optimism of "Oh, more money when I get back home, so I don't have to eat ramen and work extra hard." On the other hand, there's a fear that I will regret it, especially since I like this one sitar. We'll see.

After sitar lessons, Saresh invited us to his house. We took an auto there and spent the morning meeting his family. Then, it was time to head back, but there was no auto so he took us on his motorcycle. This wasn't a big Harley. No, the three of us packed on for the ride of our lives. Brittany and I got off with the adrenaline still pumping.

Then we went to a couple of saree places. We ended up at a small shop where the owner was nice. They throw down a ton of sarees and you pick out what you like and what you don't. Traditionally you kind of narrow it down after that. Things were going well until a young man, about our age, came down and started pushing us. We would say we don't like a saree and he would say "Oh, but this is beautiful and very fine" and sometimes we said "It's ok, set it to the side and we'll decide in a little bit", and when all was said and done we had about 20 sarees picked out we liked. When we started to sort them out they acted shocked and claimed that most Americans buy 20 to 30 sarees and we simply said we don't have the money to buy everything we like. The young man literally scoffed at us and said all Americans are rich.

I'm not saying America is worse off than India, after all people who own TVs are still below the "poverty line", but I will say that even in the poorest parts of Udaipur at ten o'clock at night Brittany and I have felt more or less completely safe, but if I were in a slum in America I would probably be smart to fear for my life. Yes, Brittany and I, in many ways, are poor. Just like anyone, we struggle to make ends meet, and though we've been blessed with many amenities and are grateful for those, we by no means live in luxury. In India, we aren't so poor. I got a leather bound photo album for $7.50. Brittany and I have eaten a gourmet meal, as good or better than your favorite fine-dining restaurant, for literally less than $40 allowing for one drink for each of us. We stayed six nights in the honeymoon suite of an air conditioned hotel with the best view in this city for $100 total. But that doesn't mean I can fork out $200+ for a bunch of sarees I have to turn around and have tailored. I simply refuse to believe every American who buys a saree goes to a little shop, buys 20, and has them tailored. It's not only expensive, but stupid and unnecessary.

So, we narrowed it down to three. Two were chiffon, a see-through fabric that can be nice, but is also good for everyday use and then one silk-blend that was pretty cool. All in all, it cost Rs1100, which we later found was about Rs400 too much. You live and you learn. The chiffon ones were Rs300 and should have been Rs150 at the most, and I figured Rs300 was reasonable as I couldn't imagine getting 5 1/2 meters of fabric for less than that.

Oh well, we went on and looked at some more sarees. One our way to one shop we found a man feeding monkeys and he let us feed them as well. It was quite fun, and interesting. There are pictures on Facebook.

Yesterday we got the stuff together for the sarees. You have to buy fabric for the blouse and petticoat which goes under the saree. Then we went and bought one of the used sarees from the first shop. So, we got all that and with the help of the Soni family, we took it to the tailor. We then found the nicer of the three we bought was too small, so we tried to exchange it only to find every saree they had in the shop was a half-meter smaller than a traditional saree. We had asked them if this saree was 6 1/2 meters (as this particular type was supposed to be) and they said yes, but now that it was only 6 meters they claimed it was normal.

Well it got ugly, and long story short they found one that was more expensive that was the right length. There was more yelling and stuff, but eventually they offered an even trade. We then found that the saree we traded really was worth more and they weren't trying to rip us off. We felt kind of bad for all of the harsh words, and plan on paying them the fair price. They are corrupt people, but being right isn't always as important as doing right.

We just finished Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller and I recommend to just about anyone, Christian or non-Christian. Well, time is running out, but there's more to say. I'll catch you later, in the mean time there are now six India albums on Facebook for your viewing pleasure. Just go a post or two back for the links.

Even Newer Pictures

Yesterday was crazy fun, but I have little time, so all I can do is leave you with more pictures. Full update later.

Albums 1 through 5 are full, and you can access them by looking at previous posts which have links (they aren't too hard to find, just scroll down to the post before this one and read it) and the link to India 5 has been fixed.

Now for a public link to album India 6


Actually all pictures are now linked in this post.

Tons More Pictures

This link no longer works as the 5 albums have been condensed into the first 3 previously linked in this post.

Quick edit note: the link to India 5 wasn't working and it should work now.

Brittany uploaded and tagged some new pictures while I was in my sitar lesson (and yes, it is awesome). She is far more indiscriminant than I am, so you get lots and lots more pictures that usual (she's also better at picking them out)! You can pick up where you left off at the Facebook album India 4 and work your way through India 5, or you may start from the beginning.

Public links to Facebook albums India 1, India 2, India 3, and India 4 can be found at this post.

India 5 (link fixed)


Life goes on in Udaipur, looking for Sarees for Brittany and eventually, if money pans out, I'll get a sitar. I'll try and do a full update later.

A World Away

When a person travels to the other side of the world, to a foreign country he/she has never been to, with a culture where the only thing that is really known is that it is completely different: it changes a person. Sometimes it comes in the form of culture shock, which with me, took on a form of wonder and excitement in the unknown. Can't get a fair price on a rickshaw? Online banking not working? Almost get run over on the way to dinner? Dinner make you sick? You get the point. I addressed these inconveniences almost with a perspective of tolerance, attempting to suck in the culture and ignore the bumps along the road. It worked well for me at first, and I found that it was easy to tuck away impatience and suck it up. When it is 110F and you don't speak a word of the language (Hindi) of course your rickshaw driver is going to charge you extra. You just ate and spent more on a meal than his family does in a week and are staying in a nice air conditioned hotel.

Truth be told, I kind of lost my head in Jodhpur, letting my culture shock take a new turn. Hindus are actually some of the most backward people you will ever meet. In general. It's not to say Christians like myself aren't backwards as well. How do people part of a religion that claims to love everyone, like Christianity, turn its nose up at the poor? And aren't there Christians who represent their religion more accurately? That said, this isn't an attack on any individual Hindu, or Hinduism as a religion, but in general, the mentality of Hindus will wear a Westerner out.

I've already gone over the cow thing. Cows are holy, yet I've seen people feed them and immediately beat them away with a stick. They are left to eat garbage, which is everywhere, which pollutes our living earth. And all living things are to be respected in Hinduism, which is why they have such a massive vegetarian population (probably more than 75%). Yet, Brittany and I went to a lovely park yesterday where they offered camel rides. We were going to do it, but as it turned out the camels were led by a rope that was tied to a nose piercing. It looked painful. We skipped the camel ride.

So, there's the cow thing, the ill-treatment of the environment which greatly affects the cows, and the general disregard for nature. Furthermore, almost everyone here is motivated by money, so a simple rickshaw ride is a matter of dodging places he might get commission. You might say "Take us to Cafe Coffee Day" and on the way he'll try and talk you into hiring him for the day, switching to his hotel, or stopping by shopping venues of his choice. And being nice doesn't work. Usually a straight "nay" (Hindi for "no") does little. Sometimes it gets to the point that you have to say "take us to where we asked, or we're getting out of the auto right here and not paying you". Money talks.

This bears down on a person, not just physically. After a day of trying not to lie, but trying to find every possible reason not to do what everyone wants you to do, we come back to the hotel spent. After a while in Jodhpur I was so sick of hearing "Hello where are you going?", "Hello come into my shop", "Hello what are you looking for?" that I started being rude. It's enough the constant beeping of horns interrupts conversation without the unnecessary shop-owners and rickshaw drivers bothering us, and it gets the point where I simply reply "That's rude" or "If we're interested we'll let you know". It never ends. Now that we're in Udaipur the calamity of the touts has calmed down. But every time we walk by an auto the driver they approach us asking if we need a ride. I know it's the off season and they need the money, but they might have noticed, since we've been here over a week that we don't take rickshaws and that we walk almost everywhere.

But after culture shock comes the wonder. I know it doesn't sound deep to you, but I often find myself wondering at what I've been doing. While the rich are vacationing in Europe, I'm on a rooftop in a desert state in India looking at the sun set on the 500 year old marble buildings. Don't get me wrong, the Louvre is awesome, I'm sure, but I'm in India. Before I came to India I had never ridden on a rickshaw (with the bike), never seen someone pray or bow to a god I didn't believe in, much less a temple of a pagan god, I've never seen people inlay marble, elephants and camels outside of a zoo, wild monkeys, wild cows, brain as a menu item, street food, and well it's all so much to remember.

But I'm in India! I'm somewhere between a tourist and a backpacker, and I feel like that's the place to be. I don't feel the need to cover every foot of every temple, fort, and palace and I also don't feel the need to go around yapping about bhang lassi and how hardcore I am for being here. No, I'm just here and it is a wonder to me. Sure there's something hardcore about being in India, but that's not what India is about. India is about the backwards Hinduism, the vivid clothing, cattle that are all-to-literally "free-range", crazy driving, cheap palace-like hotels, dirty shops, and spicy food.

So many tourists come here, and they go to this or that temple, this or that guru, this or that spiritual exercise trying to find themselves, but they miss the point. It doesn't take bowing before Vishnu to get any sort of self-improvement. In the West we thrive on love and luxury, putting them hand and hand, but here the camel is a symbol of love and the saying goes "If you can love a camel you can love anyone". Look at my blog posts, I teach love. Read Donald Miller, he teaches love. Try and love a corrupt Bollywood producer.

I came to India and I brought my religion with me. For one thing, I figured I'd be on a lot of boring trains, so all those theology books I never read because I had something more entertaining to do, I brought with me. I mean, Narnia and Donald Miller don't classify as direct theology; but the point is, when you're put in the pressure cooker what will you do? Will look for answers in things you don't even believe in? Or will you draw closer to what you do believe in? I'm not saying books solve my problems. Believe me, I'd love the $600 the government owes me to land in my bank account, in fact, I'd actually love to be able to check my bank account (Suntrust online banking is currently down). You know what? I don't think those obstacles are coincidence and I don't believe that reading John Piper will solve that.

But I do believe that fixing the money situation won't fix me as the Enemy would have me believe. I know, not all of my readers are Christians, and even some of the ones who are might be skeptical that my thoughts on spiritual warfare in this country are fantasies. And anyone can believe what they want. I know I'm deviating and bouncing about a bit, and if I had the time this would read more linear, but I guess what I'm trying to say is this:

I'm in India. I've seen one of the wonders of the world, I've seen the sun set on that wonder, and I've seen all kinds of crazy stuff that people who don't go to India will never experience. After a brief time of rolling with the punches, I came to a place where I was bitter that love goes so unrewarded, and now I'm in a place where I have friends and these experiences are breath-taking. I also see where Westerners come here to solve their problems through Eastern Spirituality. I see how the Enemy is at work here. I'm getting a taste of the pressure cooker and I'm learning that India is an exercise in my spirituality, not because of anything in particular India has to offer, but because its very nature frustrates you and astounds you with beauty all at once. I'm seeing how pain can cause growth if you turn to the right places.

It's impossible to most of this into words. You walk on the bridge of Udaipur, you look across the lake and see the palaces and buildings and you can't help but think to yourself "holy @%$&;", and even the expletive does little to conjure the gravity of the matter. How beautiful and different India is. Would I recommend this for everyone? No. Some people are meant for the pressure cooker in other ways. I know in the movie Jarhead (it sucked, don't bother) they are in the Gulf War and they call it "the suck", and I think it's kind of another word for pressure cooker, only we're in India buying beautiful clothes, cheap leather goods (camel leather), and having chai with friends.

Oh bother, I'm sure this is full of missed words, misspelled words, typos, and terrible grammar I have no time to fix. Maybe I'll put it into better words later. I took my first sitar lesson today. It was great fun, but hard work. Sitars cost between $150-250 depending on quality and if the government puts the $600 in before I leave I hope to come home with one. A few more pictures to come soon. Cheers.

Thoughts on Octopussy and Why India is like Dungeons and Dragons

As I've said, Octopussy was partially filmed in Udaipur, where we are staying now, and just about every rooftop restaurant here has a 7pm showing every night. You would think after 25 years the obsession would die out, but I assure you the hype is still here. And so, Brittany and I got as cozy as we could on the rooftop of Cafe Namaste, ordered a brownie and some chai and began the film. Of course, it is James Bond, but it is Roger Moore Jame Bond, which is kind of hard to watch at times. Though I haven't seen Octopussy in years, I certainly remember liking it a great deal; however, I couldn't hear a thing during the movie this time. The guy in charge of the restaurant would only turn it up a notch or two at anyone's request and it really didn't do a whole lot of good.

But we did get to see James Bond in Udaipur. First let me say, his arrival couldn't have been more stylish. Coming off the boat from Udaipur's famous lake to be greeted by an Indian comrade posing to be a snake charmer. This was 25 years ago too, so all the more pollution free. Bond's friend claims the snake charmer get-up was a bad idea because he's terrified of snakes, but I say it's a bad idea because snake charming doesn't really go on so much anymore, particularly not in these parts (still around in Calcutta). As the lake is full in the movie, I can only suspect it is during the tourist season, which is post-monsoon. The lake is empty now, as the dry season is at its peak just before the monsoon starts. I will concede that there may be a snake charmer or two during the tourist season.

Bond makes a quite amateur mistake or two rather. First he hitches a ride with an auto-rickshaw driver without settling on a price first, and then agrees to go to whatever hotel the rickshaw driver would take him to. Although there are no casinos in Udaipur, there is one in the movie, and it's a good thing Bond won his bet, because he's going to need compensation for his extra-pricey hotel room (as the rickshaw driver is getting a commission) and compensation for his overpriced rickshaw ride.

There's an auto chase scene throughout Udaipur, which is funny to anyone who has been to India, because aside from the wheelies the rickshaw keeps making, it's really not that out-of-the-ordinary. What is unordinary is how every token Indian, Middle-Eastern, and Asian stereotype is thrown into this scene. Yes, there's another snake charmer, a guy walking on hot coals, a man sleeping on a bed of nails, but what is missing are the annoying shop owners beckoning you, and as part of the chase scene takes place on foot, I was surprised there weren't a million rickshaw drivers begging him to ride with them in spite of the fact he had just gotten off a rickshaw and was in the middle of a fight. The weaponry throughout the scene is priceless, and I've seen much modern and medieval weaponry in my time in India, but I have yet to see a five pointed knife or much else that they used.

And later they end up at the Monsoon Palace (it's the palace the maharajah took refuge in during the monsoon; it's on top of mountain to avoid flooding), which isn't heavily guarded as they claim and is mostly a tourist site. But it's where the bad guys are hiding out, and Bond finds himself as the new target in what was a tiger hunt. Of course, the only tigers in this area are long extinct, but the maharajahs did hunt them by Tiger Lake, which is not so immediately outside of the Monsoon Palace. In this chase we encounter just about every conceivable specimen possible. Tiger, cobra, leach, elephant, crocodile, and well the list goes on. Bond stylishly dodges all of them.

After this point it just kind of got old as the sound was too low to understand what was happening. So we left. I still feel like I go the Udaipur Octopussy experience.

India is kind of like Dungeons and Dragons, or just about any role playing game as there always seems to be a quest, and you are constantly honing you India travelling skills. In India you learn: never trust anybody, always agree to a price beforehand, never pay upfront, never pay the original price (always talk them down), don't drink the water (don't even brush your teeth with it), and watch out for cow crap. Of course, these are things you know at first, but you find very quickly that putting them into practice is quite hard. You must always play the stern and mean type of person; otherwise you will get taken advantage of.

Remember that creepy guy I mentioned in yesterday's post? Well, we saw him again and he had the nerve to approach me. I told him we didn't trust him and he asked why. Of course, in America, you smile and pretend, but here, even if they know you are pretending, they will take advantage of that lie. Indians are thick skinned, so the straighter you give it to them more likely you are to get your point across. Padding the truth only makes things worse as it gives them hope you will weaken and give in. So, to his face I told him, "You only want money. We tell you we aren't buying art and all of the sudden you're no longer an artist but you want to take us somewhere else, some place that is not in the city where who-knows-what would happen to us" and as he started to rebut what I said, I simply said "Maybe you're a nice guy, but I don't trust you, I don't owe you an explanation, and you will leave us alone now." Before, when I simply said I wasn't interested in buying he still thought he had a shot and tried to milk me into going to look at sitars (allegedly), but when I came right out and said what was on my mind, I got the job done.

Brittany and I really have two sets of friends here. There are the two guys who work at the Art Village Art School. During tourist season, they don't sell art directly; however, they brought us into their store and simply told us "We are your friends, and we want to share our art with you. We don't normally sell directly, but because money is bad, we will sell directly. If you like what you see and you have the money, but if you don't like it or it is too much money, don't buy it. You can even think about it for a day or two and come back, but whether you buy or not you can always come here and have chai with us." And we did buy, and they invited us back for chai. And we checked prices in two different stores in Udaipur and you know what? Those two guys didn't rip us off. They were fair. We went back for chai and we shared music and talked for hours.

Then, there's a family next to our former hotel (we moved from Dream Heaven Guest House to Nukkad Guest House) and we made friend with them. Though the family has roots in jewelry (according to their caste), they are all artists. Their house serves as a small store (mostly just bottled water), art studio, and home. We bought a small amount of art from them, and Brittany had heena done through the girls the next day. We sat and talked and they fed us lunch yesterday which was delicious. They said we are welcome in their home anytime, and I think they meant it. We truly like them and they seem to like us a great deal as well.

Between both these sets of friends, we are linked to this city, knowing the shops owned by honest and good people and knowing where not to go.

Yesterday we went to the City Palace, which wasn't as great as it cost. Yesterday was the last day in a month-long yearly Hindu celebration. The bells rang well into the night and began again early this morning. Brittany and I weren't too happy about it. One thing is for sure, the Indian perception of annoying is very different from western thought.

I hope you read the two previous posts, as one was a good bit of important information about our whereabouts and goings. The other linked pictures. Since we're going to be at our hotel a while I'll try and post the numbers and contact info soon.