One of those days
Do you ever have those days, when you just feel dumb? Today was one of those days for me. It started with my first email of the morning when I was meaning to reprimand Megan for not finding time to write me when she had posted an email to our class yahoo group. Instead, though, when I hit reply, my email went out to the entire class of 240 people. Why, when you hit reply to something that one person wrote, it responds to the group, I’ll never know. I told Marcy when I talked to her later that maybe I could tell everyone that I did it on purpose just so people would email me, even if it was to make fun of me.
Second, on my way home, one of the temple elephants, was heading down the street. Originally, it was on the other side of the road, but I think as they saw me coming, the handlers crossed to try and intercept me. I shook my head and said no thank you as I passed by, having already experienced the tradition at the temple. As I approached the guesthouse, Andreas, the kind of doorman, (a very sweet man, he’s been at the guesthouse for 25 years, and he must be in his 70’s) explained what it was, and I told him that I had already been to Meenakshi and gotten the blessing there. Although I couldn’t understand exactly what he responded, it was along the lines of - if you know, then you should donate. I don’t have any problem donating and I would have done it again today, but will I have to endure the elephant snot in my hand and on my forehead every time I see one? I may have to investigate an alternative…
The next thing happened when I got back to the guesthouse and found sheets on my bed. This may not sound unusual to you, but you see, for the last five nights, I’ve slept without them. Yes, I thought it was unusual that I would sleep directly on the futon mattress (it only has a few stains!). I’d even wrapped the pillow in my sarong. But I guess that I didn’t want to offend anyone by asking. I assumed that if there were sheets, they would already be on the bed. I think that the other time that my room was cleaned the thin overthrow must have hidden it. Oh well, I should sleep well tonight!
The next, and thankfully, last thing happened as I braved my adventure for the day (I’m trying to assign myself something new everyday). I walked a few blocks from the guesthouse in the opposite direction from my office (a first) to check out the four or five “stores” a few blocks down with the intention of buying mangoes. I had one a few nights ago, and it was amazing – so much better than the ones we get from Mexico. You can’t even cut it up because it’s so soft, you pretty much just cut it open and dig in with your mouth. The juice was literally dripping down my arms. Anyway, so I say “stores” because they consist of three walls and a roof, each sell something different, grains, sweets, a kind of pharmacy?, and a fruit stand. I had heard that I should bargain hard everywhere I go so I asked how much for two, and I could swear the vender (a boy of about 10) said 15 for each, well, I was told to pay 25 rupees for a kilo (like I know what that is - but this was definitely not even close). I said “no, no, no I’ll give you 10 for two”, which is about $.20. He kept saying “wait, wait”, and I kept saying “no, 10 for two”. I was about to walk away when he took the mangoes out of my hand and took them over to the scale – Oh, “weight”, was what he was saying. He said 7, and I said “for each?”, “no I’ll pay 10”. He nodded his head at me, actually, he shook it. People here have an interesting way of their shaking their heads when they talk (and listen) that looks like no, but means yes. My guidebook describes it “as if Indians have an extra bone in their necks which allows the head to glide in a sinuous back and forth and up and down at the same time motion”. I can’t even do it if I try (and I’ve tried - in the privacy of my own room, of course). I should probably make sure that my nodding doesn’t look like no to them. Anyway, he said “weight” again, and I wondered now what, but he came back from behind the counter and gave me my three rupees change. Okay, so I was ready to overpay, and my mangoes are about half of the size of the other one I had, but it was another first (shopping on my own).
Some good things did happen today, too. Like I mentioned earlier, I got to talk to Marcy in Budapest. Skype really is an amazing thing. I can sit in the privacy of my AC’d office and make a phone call to Budapest for free! It sure beats the public phone on the dusty road, with the traffic rumbling by and impatient crowd waiting (and staring!). Also, I took a tour of the “paying” hospital, as opposed to the “free” hospital that I’ll see tomorrow or next week. It’s an incredible system. It has 280 beds and they see 1000-2000 patients per day. Although it looks very chaotic, with every waiting room and hallway filled with people, it’s unbelievably efficient. There are no appointments, but they get many patients through in an hour. Those that need to can come back the following day for surgery, staying over night if necessary. The price for any procedure (some including a two night stay) is under $300, and the paying patient’s fees cover all of their services, as well as the services of the two-thirds of patients that can pay nothing. It was great to finally see it. Although, walking around the hospital, sometimes I felt like it was more me who was on display, with entire waiting rooms of about 100 people staring, some pointing me out to their children, while my guide explained the system. I think that I’m starting to adjust - just trying to smile and say hello.
Well, it looks like my embarrassing day was not over after all. I had a delicious dinner on my own (Tejas was catching his Hindi soap). I did talk to Mary, for a bit. She’s the caretaker of the guesthouse, and serves us all of our meals. She’s very nice and patient, always answering my questions and smiling a lot. She even seemed to be able to tell that it had been a long day, and offered me a string of jasmine to put in my hair. I’ve seen a lot of women do it, and the wonderful smell is very strong (I wonder if it’s often used to cover up some not so wonderful smells). I finished my meal, and headed up to my room, only to realize that before going down to dinner, I had managed to tuck the back of my kameez (knee length tunic) into my salwar (pants) – which might be the Indian equivalent of tucking the back of your skirt into your pantyhose. Fortunately, I experienced the possibility of this happening before suffering the humiliation in public. I can’t even imagine if I had walked out onto the street. Thank goodness this day has come to an end!
On a side note –I don’t think that my entries will always be this long. My guess is that they’ll be inversely proportional to the number of other people staying at the guesthouse, and right now that’s only one.
Second, on my way home, one of the temple elephants, was heading down the street. Originally, it was on the other side of the road, but I think as they saw me coming, the handlers crossed to try and intercept me. I shook my head and said no thank you as I passed by, having already experienced the tradition at the temple. As I approached the guesthouse, Andreas, the kind of doorman, (a very sweet man, he’s been at the guesthouse for 25 years, and he must be in his 70’s) explained what it was, and I told him that I had already been to Meenakshi and gotten the blessing there. Although I couldn’t understand exactly what he responded, it was along the lines of - if you know, then you should donate. I don’t have any problem donating and I would have done it again today, but will I have to endure the elephant snot in my hand and on my forehead every time I see one? I may have to investigate an alternative…
The next thing happened when I got back to the guesthouse and found sheets on my bed. This may not sound unusual to you, but you see, for the last five nights, I’ve slept without them. Yes, I thought it was unusual that I would sleep directly on the futon mattress (it only has a few stains!). I’d even wrapped the pillow in my sarong. But I guess that I didn’t want to offend anyone by asking. I assumed that if there were sheets, they would already be on the bed. I think that the other time that my room was cleaned the thin overthrow must have hidden it. Oh well, I should sleep well tonight!
The next, and thankfully, last thing happened as I braved my adventure for the day (I’m trying to assign myself something new everyday). I walked a few blocks from the guesthouse in the opposite direction from my office (a first) to check out the four or five “stores” a few blocks down with the intention of buying mangoes. I had one a few nights ago, and it was amazing – so much better than the ones we get from Mexico. You can’t even cut it up because it’s so soft, you pretty much just cut it open and dig in with your mouth. The juice was literally dripping down my arms. Anyway, so I say “stores” because they consist of three walls and a roof, each sell something different, grains, sweets, a kind of pharmacy?, and a fruit stand. I had heard that I should bargain hard everywhere I go so I asked how much for two, and I could swear the vender (a boy of about 10) said 15 for each, well, I was told to pay 25 rupees for a kilo (like I know what that is - but this was definitely not even close). I said “no, no, no I’ll give you 10 for two”, which is about $.20. He kept saying “wait, wait”, and I kept saying “no, 10 for two”. I was about to walk away when he took the mangoes out of my hand and took them over to the scale – Oh, “weight”, was what he was saying. He said 7, and I said “for each?”, “no I’ll pay 10”. He nodded his head at me, actually, he shook it. People here have an interesting way of their shaking their heads when they talk (and listen) that looks like no, but means yes. My guidebook describes it “as if Indians have an extra bone in their necks which allows the head to glide in a sinuous back and forth and up and down at the same time motion”. I can’t even do it if I try (and I’ve tried - in the privacy of my own room, of course). I should probably make sure that my nodding doesn’t look like no to them. Anyway, he said “weight” again, and I wondered now what, but he came back from behind the counter and gave me my three rupees change. Okay, so I was ready to overpay, and my mangoes are about half of the size of the other one I had, but it was another first (shopping on my own).
Some good things did happen today, too. Like I mentioned earlier, I got to talk to Marcy in Budapest. Skype really is an amazing thing. I can sit in the privacy of my AC’d office and make a phone call to Budapest for free! It sure beats the public phone on the dusty road, with the traffic rumbling by and impatient crowd waiting (and staring!). Also, I took a tour of the “paying” hospital, as opposed to the “free” hospital that I’ll see tomorrow or next week. It’s an incredible system. It has 280 beds and they see 1000-2000 patients per day. Although it looks very chaotic, with every waiting room and hallway filled with people, it’s unbelievably efficient. There are no appointments, but they get many patients through in an hour. Those that need to can come back the following day for surgery, staying over night if necessary. The price for any procedure (some including a two night stay) is under $300, and the paying patient’s fees cover all of their services, as well as the services of the two-thirds of patients that can pay nothing. It was great to finally see it. Although, walking around the hospital, sometimes I felt like it was more me who was on display, with entire waiting rooms of about 100 people staring, some pointing me out to their children, while my guide explained the system. I think that I’m starting to adjust - just trying to smile and say hello.
Well, it looks like my embarrassing day was not over after all. I had a delicious dinner on my own (Tejas was catching his Hindi soap). I did talk to Mary, for a bit. She’s the caretaker of the guesthouse, and serves us all of our meals. She’s very nice and patient, always answering my questions and smiling a lot. She even seemed to be able to tell that it had been a long day, and offered me a string of jasmine to put in my hair. I’ve seen a lot of women do it, and the wonderful smell is very strong (I wonder if it’s often used to cover up some not so wonderful smells). I finished my meal, and headed up to my room, only to realize that before going down to dinner, I had managed to tuck the back of my kameez (knee length tunic) into my salwar (pants) – which might be the Indian equivalent of tucking the back of your skirt into your pantyhose. Fortunately, I experienced the possibility of this happening before suffering the humiliation in public. I can’t even imagine if I had walked out onto the street. Thank goodness this day has come to an end!
On a side note –I don’t think that my entries will always be this long. My guess is that they’ll be inversely proportional to the number of other people staying at the guesthouse, and right now that’s only one.
posted by An Indian Summer - Katherine Scott @ 8:45 PM
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