Rickshaws are Way Under-rated

What comes to mind when you think of an auto rickshaw? Hot polluted air in lungs, open access to passer-by, death-defying speeds? Yes, it is all of these things- but on my first trip to the India of my heart, it grew to a pivotal life-changing importance. Think I may be deranged? Possibly, but allow me to explain.

What is an auto- rickshaw, or tuk tuk, so synonymous with any discussion on India and her transportation options, or even the city scape? It's a cheap, three-wheeled alternative to a taxi, with the same system in mind of driver and passenger. The driver sits in the front padded seat, behind a motorbike-type steering bar and a pane of glass, adorned with images of his Bollywood flame and stickers of a chosen diety. The passenger sits on a long cushy seat in the back, which can seat three comfortably, surrounded by padded walls and ceiling. There are no doors or windows. The auto rickshaw is open to the street on one side, and on the other, the "wall" comes up to the elbow in height.

The passenger can scarcely hear above the din of the engine roaring to life at the pull of a lever, the constant putter of effort, along with the blast of the horn.

It's almost certain that the driver is unsatisfied with not being able to rip off his newly acquired passenger as much as he had planned, and will cut his losses by weaving and speeding through traffic. To save sanity and nervous sweating, the journey begins to take the form of an amusement park ride. "This is fine. I won't get into an accident. It's perfectly safe. That was not just the wheel of a truck 2 centimeters from my shoulder." The unkempt sporadic roads only lend to the credibility of this 'ride of a lifetime'. Between the bumping, sliding, adjusting, and cursing for yet more haste but care, there isn't much time to think. Except of your life, which periodically flashes before your eyes.

After bargaining skills become refined, uncomfort dealt with on reflex, and experience garnered, the auto rickshaw ride becomes one of contemplation. The rider has time to take in the city and observe its culture, allow sights and scents to waft over them, to feel the soothing cool breeze through oppressing heat outside.

Auto-rickshaw rides marked my stay in India; it was on that initial fertile day in Madras that I wondered how I could possibly handle the city, deal with the language- barrier, find friends, just live. Just then, my eyes landed on a foreign woman in a salwar kameez barking commands to her driver in purposefully broken English. She was confident, savvy and full of anticipatory energy. I took note from the back of what I previously thought was a death machine on wheels.

It was also from a rickshaw, several weeks later, that I became lost at night and learned how to adapt to a potentially dangerous and highly tense situation on the fly. The mantra I found for that night followed me throughout my travels later on.

I learned to bargain hard, picked up hindi words and slang, learned the power of circumstance, tested my charm, solidified friendships, evaded the police, brainstormed articles, and discovered my love for the multi-layered India- all from my seat in the humble tuk-tuk.

Hundreds of stories are recalled at the very word; they swirl, shake, and swerve, just as the machine I once used daily would as it barreled down Mogappair West to N'Bakkam and beyond.

The destination was often unknown to me and sometimes even improvised. 'Where do I feel like going?' became 'How do I feel right now?' Introspective meant the library, creative meant any event location I found on-line, sexy meant N' Bakkam for shopping and coffee, upset and stressed meant anywhere- as long as the ride was long. There was time to think, observe, re-align, mull over a dilemma, sing the fear and pain away along to Amy Winehouse, brainstorm new article ideas, and sometimes meet people along the way. It wasn't just a ride for me, it was an experience.

So you can continue to cuss it, blame it, wonder at it, and hate it all you want. I know I did often and creatively. But this part-time instrument of torture was also the full-time reason for the lasting memories I have cultivated from India.

The Love Thing

Romance and love is a genre of its own in the film industry and in Western culture- but nothing can rival Bollywood in that genre. Almost every film either revolves around love or has a subtheme involving a guy and gal destined for one another, overcoming all odds.
We both watched too many romantic films, but it didn't matter. We fell for each other. Who knows if the idea of the foreign guy/ girl influenced our feelings.
What I found was that regardless of which side of the globe you're on, the love industry is a massive one. Valentine's day rakes in big bucks and the fact that it's even a holiday shows the popularity of this industry. And Bollywood is, after all, thriving for a reason. People just love love!
The idea of eternal bliss with the man or woman we cant is a dream-come-reality for those on-screen. For those that are off it, the dream is lived through film.
But do these films, whether cheesy and funny or haunting and beautiful, form an unattainable standard in our mind, or is the reverse possible; that they make us more cynical and pessimistic towards romance?
I admit to swooning whenever yet another leading main man comes along to save the day, and the girl, but still cringe afterwards: "what if someone actually thinks that that's how every relationship should be- perfect?!"
Do we expect more from our partner, for example, after seeing a film where the lead travels two days to a foreign country to find the girl- even though he has no clue where in that vast land she could be? And to think that lazy boyfriend of yours won't even take you out for dinner this Friday night... another friggin country!
As a result, an entire industry has been built around that female who should always expect more from a partner, no matter what the situation. The leader in this growing catchy trend is Cosmopolitan magazine. With headers like "How to please your man" and "getting your dream guy", it's not hard to see their point of view. You have to first get pointers on how to find the elusive "great guy", followed by guidelines that will help you to please him, or, in other words, keep him all to yourself. Such a precious commodity should be guarded and constantly persuaded to stay, lest he get other ideas about other girls and try to leave... I mean, you even cares about your own happiness or the idea that maybe some gals are more content and confident being single.

It was summer in that desert city and hot. My blood pulsed and boiled, and not just from the heat.
We had time to talk, find out what made each of us tick, laugh over lunch, share a beer and catch glimpses of reflected looks that we both knew very well. But we never kissed. Even though I was white and there are certain stereotypes involved, he was one of the good guys I met and he never tried anything on me. I respected him back for that seemingly small gesture.
But when I think about us now, the first thing that emerges from the fog of memory is the feelings I had for him, even though I didn't know him for very long and didn't get to know him innately during that week. What emerges when I think of love is not him physically, but the feelings I had at the time. Were they genuine emotions- or was I not truly seeing who was in front of me, only seeing something new, exciting, fun. Had I fallen into the trap of being in love with the feeling of being in love, rather than the person?
I don't know if there is an answer or whether it's possible to find one now. But at least I still have the memories of hot days on the back of a motorbike, whipping past blue houses and glittering bazaars with a feeling of utter and complete freedom- and that's the important thing, right?

Jaipur mega post

As promised, a Kat rough guide to the Pink City:
Watch out for where to stay because I have had massively awful experiences with a place called Chit chat hotel/ restaurant. It's about 200 rs. per night - about 6 bucks- but you're living in a concrete bunker with a garage door and a huge padlock AND you never feel safe because the only people coming by are Indian men. P.s. they walk by your door and rap on it at night.
After one night, I'd had enough, so I left to Pearl Palace Hotel. It was a God send, as they say. The only room available was a 4-bed, balconied, hot shower available, t.v. included palace; and the cost hit at 700 rs. per night. The 200 rs. per night standard room that I initially wanted, including your own toilet and shower, was unfortunately booked already. It seems that my habit of arriving then deciding for a hotel doesn't always work out. But a bit of luxury is needed after 4 months of living in not so stunning conditions. 'The Pearl Palace is family run and well-established, and it shows; the furnishings are intricate and chosen with care, the rooms are spotless, and the restaurant on top serves some of the best Western and Indian food I had in the North, adding a truly unique Indian flare to the place.
Another great place I have stayed at was just around the corner from The Palace. The rooms there are also spotless, warm water is available, and room service is no extra charge. Basically, you have luck with any hotel in that 2 km radius.
So you have a place to sleep and an oasis in busy Jaipur- now what do you do? One word of advice that I picked up the hard way is don't go to the manufacturing district and warehouses. Rick shaw drivers (some) will tell you it's cheaper, and that technically make sense: the place where the shoes, textiles, clothing is made is the place where it is the cheapest. But that's not how the Jaipur sale crowd computes it. These places are money-traps. I think they are made just for the very purpose of ripping tourists and travellers off. I was taken to a few such places by a rickshaw wallah (see above for which hell hotel they took me to) and paid a price that was reasonable for me, with my Canadian dollar frame of mind. After much investigation and several trips to the bazaar and markets, I realized that I paid four times the going price. The difference was immense to me and to my pockets felt it. Here is a quick Jaipur chart of typical prices:

-Rajasthani slippers/thong sandals, leather, regardless of whether they are "camel" or not, because there is no way to prove it and its best assuming you are misinformed: 150-250 rs. per pair
-Traditional Rajasthani shoes pointy toes leather: 200-600 rs. no more though!!
-Rajasthani skirt/top/scarf set, regardless of "hand made quality, blah blah blah", but the price will vary according to material, length, and amount of real mirrors used in the design: 450 for a cotton set to 1600 for a silk one. 250 -600 for just the skirt. The thing is, after they sell just the skirt, they will have trouble selling the rest of the outfit, no one wants to mis match!
Bargain and if the price won't find its way down south then leave because most of the stores sell the same exact product. I found at least three stores selling the exact same outfit- must have been the same manufacturer. And the prices were all different; from 600 at a friends shop to 3000 at the manufacturing place!
-silk bed sheet/ blanket/ pillow set: between 800-2000 depending on quality, colour, what it looks like. Some are very fragile and badly made (flimsy) so look at the detail.

To do in Jaipur, your guidebook will tell you all. One suggestion is to plan a day visit to The Amber Fort; it's stunning and mostly in the open, so you can feel a fresh breeze and get panoramic views of the surrounding areas. It's like a maze, though, so dress comfortably and wear proper shoes. Also, prepare to take loads of pictures, so if you have a manual, bring extra rolls of film. Oh- and a water bottle or two. The hike up is half a km and no one sells water, although if you're used to the local one, taps are open half-way up so you can crouch and scoop some tap water.
The guided audio tour costs 100 extra rs. and is well worth it. It will tell you the history and meaning of the fort, along with some interesting facts to take home and inform everyone. If you follow the map and the guide, you will find beautiful scenic views from the fort that you might have not been able to find on your own. You'll have a laugh over the sound effects and actors: "I am AMBER FORT! I am formidable and strong and NO ONE passes my threshold!" Good stuff.
After the Amber Fort, go to the Tiger Fort for sunset. You can put your feet up, down a beer and munch on salted peanuts as the sun sets behind the Pink city. Snippets of conversation, shouting, music, and children laughing drift up to you from 13 km below. Dinner is at 7:30 in the open air restaurant, where you can sit in black wrought iron chairs and stare at the stars circling overhead. Oh, and don't hike to the fort. Make sure to take a rick!
Finally, another precaution: touts lurk at the major tourist sights. Children can be fun at first but eventually pester you to give them money and may try to grab at your purse if no one is around. The monkey fort is listed as a sight to see, but you may want to avoid it since the hike up is steep and long and inside the temple, the main guy will expect money for anything he does, even an unasked for blessing. The temple itself is quite small but the view is, again, stunning. There is a cluster of buildings on your left side as you climb that look like a neighbourhood in Jodhpur, seeing as they glisten blue in the sunlight. This is the old part of the city, so old in fact that the locals even refer to it as "Old City".