(For Part 1 click here.)
JAIPUR
“One question,” I said. He said, “Why do all the tourists just ignore Indians when we try to talk to them?” I said, “Because it has been my experience that when someone calls out to me, they usually wants something from me, and sometimes I don’t feel like giving them anything.” He said, “But do you think all Indians are like this?” I said, “No, but it’s happened enough times that after awhile it gets easier to just not deal with it.”
He said, “Ok, but I just have one question—” which was the wrong thing to say, as it reminded me that I only stopped in the first place because he said he only had one question.
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, and walked away.
I wish I hadn’t, because I had a question of my own—if he didn’t want something from us rude foreigners, then why was it so important to talk to me, so important that he followed me past several shops to ask his question?
***
I looked at him suspiciously; was this a new trick to get me to enter the shop? People had already tried all sorts of things, thing that seemed entirely innocent at first (“Let me give you my business card. Oh, now that you’re in my travel agency, meet my father and uncle. Where are you from? U.S.? Great country! Would you like a cup of chai? Can we show you some pictures of my lovely hometown Srinagar?” Me, slowly backing out: “Um, I just came to get your card.”).
I entered and sat down, and the man produced a piece of paper and pen. He dictated a letter to his girlfriend, and I altered his words to make them clearer. “My dear Ranjita, I am normal and fine in Jaipur. I opened a new shop in Jaipur. I make bangles, rings, pendants, and I can send samples to you in Poland this week. You can select the items you like best and I can send you more of those. I hope you are very well.” It was no masterpiece, but he was delighted with the result and praised my penmenship.
Then he wanted to know if I was interested in a sari. “No, and I have to go now. My bus will be leaving at 3 pm and it’s almost 2 now,” I said gently. He looked at my cheap necklace (bought at Ross) and said he wanted to give me some much nicer gem stones to thank me for my work, if I would just go to his other shop. I said I didn’t have the time, and that my help was a gift, please don’t feel like he had to repay me. He asked if I was sure I didn’t want a sari or any other item. I said I was sure.
DELHI
MAN (walking with me): Where are you from? Japan?
(pause)
ME: Yes.
MAN: Hello!
ME: (points to ears, shakes head, mimes words)
MAN: What?
ME: (slowly) I don’t speak English.
MAN: That’s ok, I speak Japanese.
(pause)
ME: Ok look, I just don’t want to talk to you.
JAIPUR
I was walking briskly through
Jaipur’s Pink City when I heard a man frantically call out, “Hello miss!
Hello!” I ignored him, because when you’re a tourist walking through a tourist
area, lots of people call out to you. But this man followed me more than 100
feet, still calling out. I only stopped when he said, “I just have one
question, miss!”
“One question,” I said. He said, “Why do all the tourists just ignore Indians when we try to talk to them?” I said, “Because it has been my experience that when someone calls out to me, they usually wants something from me, and sometimes I don’t feel like giving them anything.” He said, “But do you think all Indians are like this?” I said, “No, but it’s happened enough times that after awhile it gets easier to just not deal with it.”
He said, “Ok, but I just have one question—” which was the wrong thing to say, as it reminded me that I only stopped in the first place because he said he only had one question.
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, and walked away.
I wish I hadn’t, because I had a question of my own—if he didn’t want something from us rude foreigners, then why was it so important to talk to me, so important that he followed me past several shops to ask his question?
***
A man motioned for me to come
into his sari and cloth shop. I smiled and shook my head, as I didn’t want
anything. Then he said, “Can you help me write something in English? My English
is so bad.”
I looked at him suspiciously; was this a new trick to get me to enter the shop? People had already tried all sorts of things, thing that seemed entirely innocent at first (“Let me give you my business card. Oh, now that you’re in my travel agency, meet my father and uncle. Where are you from? U.S.? Great country! Would you like a cup of chai? Can we show you some pictures of my lovely hometown Srinagar?” Me, slowly backing out: “Um, I just came to get your card.”).
I entered and sat down, and the man produced a piece of paper and pen. He dictated a letter to his girlfriend, and I altered his words to make them clearer. “My dear Ranjita, I am normal and fine in Jaipur. I opened a new shop in Jaipur. I make bangles, rings, pendants, and I can send samples to you in Poland this week. You can select the items you like best and I can send you more of those. I hope you are very well.” It was no masterpiece, but he was delighted with the result and praised my penmenship.
Then he wanted to know if I was interested in a sari. “No, and I have to go now. My bus will be leaving at 3 pm and it’s almost 2 now,” I said gently. He looked at my cheap necklace (bought at Ross) and said he wanted to give me some much nicer gem stones to thank me for my work, if I would just go to his other shop. I said I didn’t have the time, and that my help was a gift, please don’t feel like he had to repay me. He asked if I was sure I didn’t want a sari or any other item. I said I was sure.
DELHI
The following took place as I was
walking from the metro back to my hotel.
MAN (walking with me): Where are you from? Japan?
(pause)
ME: Yes.
MAN: Hello!
ME: (points to ears, shakes head, mimes words)
MAN: What?
ME: (slowly) I don’t speak English.
MAN: That’s ok, I speak Japanese.
(pause)
ME: Ok look, I just don’t want to talk to you.
1 comment:
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