Emerson is with Ratna this morning, and I am grateful for the time to write. I took a break from writing for a bit to take a walk down the road and grab lunch. Adventures ensued.
I see a cow on the side of the road. Lately I’ve been patting them on the head when I pass. Usually, the cows even bow their head a little to allow me to pat. I feel so connected to animals and think they must see that feeling of connection in me, and want my head pats. So this morning Ms. Cow bows her head a little, I reach out to pat, and she uses her pointy cow horns to whack me in the thigh. I turn and run a few steps and screech, thinking the cow is chasing me. Of course she is not, she is still where she was a moment ago, chewing her cud. I laugh out loud and look around. Luckily it does not appear that any of the locals saw me. Mental note: be more reticent with future cow pats.
I head on up to my favorite bakery where I can get a roasted veggie sandwich and curry-potato stuffed bread for 14 rupies total - which is about 28 cents. Best deal around. After I buy lunch I sneak into a local tailor shop, which recently moved locations to a better spot.
I walk in and meet the owner, and ask him if he moved recently. He says yes, and seems pleased that I noticed. I tell him that he altered a tank top for me last year, and that I bought a bag from him. He smiles and gets back to his work.
I pick out two beautiful bags (for gifts!) and five smaller wallet-size bags. I ask him how much it is. Here is the tricky part - in India, like lots of other places, the shop keepers almost expect you to bargain. As an American I’m not really comfortable with it, and usually feel out of my element trying to “make a deal.” He counts up the total and while he is counting I say something like, “Is there a discount for multiple purchases?” while laughing awkwardly.
He appears to completely ignore me and tells me the total is 1400 rupies, the exact ticket price. I decide to give up my negotiating, which is failing miserably, and convince myself that it is nice to help a local business owner and I am paying less than $30 for two big bags and five small wallets - what a deal. He smiles when I pay him and says, “you take one extra wallet, my gift to you.”
Yay!! I thank him and wish him success at his new location. I head back home with a spring in my step.
Then I encounter two local transvestites. They are dressed like women, in beautiful saris, and have pretty, feminine faces. The only giveaway is the vague appearance of facial hair removal procedures on their chins. I know their story vaguely, the small bit I learned of it last year. They walk around and demand money from local business owners, threatening to curse them if they do not give them money. The locals believe in the girls’ powers and willingly pay to avoid being cursed. I decide to play stupid. I invoke the dumb American tourist approach.
The taller one calls from 20 feet away and walks toward me, “You have money. You give me 10 rupies.” I try to look confused and send love at the same time. I look her directly in the eye, “what do you need 10 rupies for?”
Her companion looks at me and says, “you have rice?” Although suddenly I’m not sure if she is saying, “you have lice?” Immediately my mind tells me she is trying to curse me with head lice!! I feel a bit of fear - could she really give me head lice? Her eyes are deep and mystical, and I all of a sudden believe she might have that power. I breathe and go back into my myself, try to feel my connection to the Divine. Again, I play stupid: “I do not have any rice. Do you want rice?”
She gets slightly annoyed, “give me 100 rupies,” she says with a firmer tone. I look into her eyes and give her a compliment and flash a playful smile: “with your beautiful eyes, I might consider it.” She blushes and her eyes warm up. She says, “where are you from?”
“America,” I tell her.
“What is your name?” She asks.
“Kali” I tell her. She smiles."What is your name?" I ask.
“My name is Shanti*,” she says.
Her friend becomes impatient with the delay. She says with a stern but kind tone, “10 rupies for her, 10 rupies for me.”
I reply in a dorky voice, nodding, feeling lucky to get out of the deal without head lice and for less than 100 rupies: “twenty rupies sounds fair.”
We part ways and both the girls say goodbye and thank you and I sense a warmness from them toward me. I walk away with a feeling of nervous excitement and feel fortunate for the chance encounter, which I instantly want to write about. Every day is an adventure here.
*(not her real name)
Check out my new and improved website: www.theyogalawyer.com
I see a cow on the side of the road. Lately I’ve been patting them on the head when I pass. Usually, the cows even bow their head a little to allow me to pat. I feel so connected to animals and think they must see that feeling of connection in me, and want my head pats. So this morning Ms. Cow bows her head a little, I reach out to pat, and she uses her pointy cow horns to whack me in the thigh. I turn and run a few steps and screech, thinking the cow is chasing me. Of course she is not, she is still where she was a moment ago, chewing her cud. I laugh out loud and look around. Luckily it does not appear that any of the locals saw me. Mental note: be more reticent with future cow pats.
I head on up to my favorite bakery where I can get a roasted veggie sandwich and curry-potato stuffed bread for 14 rupies total - which is about 28 cents. Best deal around. After I buy lunch I sneak into a local tailor shop, which recently moved locations to a better spot.
I walk in and meet the owner, and ask him if he moved recently. He says yes, and seems pleased that I noticed. I tell him that he altered a tank top for me last year, and that I bought a bag from him. He smiles and gets back to his work.
I pick out two beautiful bags (for gifts!) and five smaller wallet-size bags. I ask him how much it is. Here is the tricky part - in India, like lots of other places, the shop keepers almost expect you to bargain. As an American I’m not really comfortable with it, and usually feel out of my element trying to “make a deal.” He counts up the total and while he is counting I say something like, “Is there a discount for multiple purchases?” while laughing awkwardly.
He appears to completely ignore me and tells me the total is 1400 rupies, the exact ticket price. I decide to give up my negotiating, which is failing miserably, and convince myself that it is nice to help a local business owner and I am paying less than $30 for two big bags and five small wallets - what a deal. He smiles when I pay him and says, “you take one extra wallet, my gift to you.”
Yay!! I thank him and wish him success at his new location. I head back home with a spring in my step.
Then I encounter two local transvestites. They are dressed like women, in beautiful saris, and have pretty, feminine faces. The only giveaway is the vague appearance of facial hair removal procedures on their chins. I know their story vaguely, the small bit I learned of it last year. They walk around and demand money from local business owners, threatening to curse them if they do not give them money. The locals believe in the girls’ powers and willingly pay to avoid being cursed. I decide to play stupid. I invoke the dumb American tourist approach.
The taller one calls from 20 feet away and walks toward me, “You have money. You give me 10 rupies.” I try to look confused and send love at the same time. I look her directly in the eye, “what do you need 10 rupies for?”
Her companion looks at me and says, “you have rice?” Although suddenly I’m not sure if she is saying, “you have lice?” Immediately my mind tells me she is trying to curse me with head lice!! I feel a bit of fear - could she really give me head lice? Her eyes are deep and mystical, and I all of a sudden believe she might have that power. I breathe and go back into my myself, try to feel my connection to the Divine. Again, I play stupid: “I do not have any rice. Do you want rice?”
She gets slightly annoyed, “give me 100 rupies,” she says with a firmer tone. I look into her eyes and give her a compliment and flash a playful smile: “with your beautiful eyes, I might consider it.” She blushes and her eyes warm up. She says, “where are you from?”
“America,” I tell her.
“What is your name?” She asks.
“Kali” I tell her. She smiles."What is your name?" I ask.
“My name is Shanti*,” she says.
Her friend becomes impatient with the delay. She says with a stern but kind tone, “10 rupies for her, 10 rupies for me.”
I reply in a dorky voice, nodding, feeling lucky to get out of the deal without head lice and for less than 100 rupies: “twenty rupies sounds fair.”
We part ways and both the girls say goodbye and thank you and I sense a warmness from them toward me. I walk away with a feeling of nervous excitement and feel fortunate for the chance encounter, which I instantly want to write about. Every day is an adventure here.
*(not her real name)
Check out my new and improved website: www.theyogalawyer.com
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