India Man-ia

I will be the first to admit that in Goa, I let my guard down. I will even freely admit to the fact that for the last three nights I stayed there, I chose to stay in a room off a courtyard (behind a family's home) that did not lock from the inside. I sat on the beach wearing a bathing suit and drank beer. I walked to and fro wearing shorts. This might not seem like a big deal but we're talking about India. I knew North India would be different but was not expecting the change so suddenly aka the moment I began my 24+ hour trek to Jaipur.

I sat with two families from Mumbai and the father of one of them, Neeraj, started to ask me about my trip. As we were talking, I noticed how he brought everything back to somehow explain that India is the greatest country/civilization out there -- oddly reminiscent of the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding:

"Mathematics, numerology, astrology, organic food, engineering, and the Latin language all originated in India," he tells me. I listened, nodded, kinda smiled.

All of a sudden he stops listing accomplishments and turns the conversation to American girls. He told me that Indian girls do not travel to America by themselves and was surprised to find me, an American girl, travelling to India by myself. He asked me if my boyfriend was okay with this. I told him it was okay because my boyfriend didn't like to go on trips. Please note: I think by the end of India, I might actually convince myself I either have a boyfriend or am married as I seem to tell people it so often. It tends to soothe older men and women and also means I am off limits to the Indian boys who like to stare and ask if they can take a picture with me.

Anyways, Neeraj continues, "I always thought they (American girls) were so easy from television but then I happened to meet one a few years ago and realized all women -- American or Indian -- just really want a man to take care of them," he looked to me to see if I agreed, so I decided to nod my head. It seemed to be easier to agree with this man and then gradually begin to ignore him. The next thing he wanted to talk about was whether or not I thought it was okay to live with a man before marriage. I guess ignoring him would not be so easy... I have heard that Indians are fascinated by this and was intrigued to hear his opinion. I was not, however, expecting for him to compare living with a boyfriend before marriage to the marketing slogan "if you sell the product -- you fail. You must sell the reasons to buy the product."

I thought about telling my new friend the old saying, "why buy the cow when you can milk it for free" but the holiness of the cow in India stopped me. Since cows can do anything they want here in India (including eating a plastic bag filled with pineapple I left on the beach while I went to swim or standing on the railroad to delay a train for 2 hours), I didn't want to offend this man. I excused myself to go to the toilet (which in fact is a hole in the ground that leads to nothing, just the train tracks) and came back to open up a book, ending the conversation.

Men are definitely what worry me the most about North India. I managed to only be harrassed by the female vendors on the beach and street in Goa. It is not that I think the men will harm me, I just hear they are very intense in terms of stares, questions, etc. Neeraj on the train did not disappoint in his queries, and I guess I have to get used to it.

The moment I stepped off the train in Jaipur (where I currently write using the wireless internet from my hotel -- what luxury!), a man asked me if I needed a taxi and continued to follow me up the stairs, across the overpass, and down through the station. He was then joined by four other men all offering to take me to a hotel, asking me if I was Australian, French, Russian, or whatever other country blonde people must come from. I ignored it all and waited for the specific license plate number of the van from my hotel. Some men tried to throw me, guessing I might be staying at a place called Palace something (most hotels in Jaipur are palace something apparently. They told me they were here on behalf of my hotel or that there was a better one to go to. I stayed brave and finally my specific ride pulled up.

I got in as fast as I could, slammed the door shut and asked if everybody gets into the car with such speed. The driver laughed and took me to my new hotel. It feels like paradise. I have a bathroom in my room and the bed is not mere plywood. I cannot wait to go to sleep and wake up, ready to brave the markets, and a whole new gauntlet of Indian men.