India Impressions I
In all things new, there is shock. Once familiarity begins to breed, shock begins to die. Then there is resolution. Where you are is where you are, at least for the moment. From resolution should sprout courage. From courage, shoots pecking order and leadership. This ought to be the natural endeavoring of all men. All men interested in contributing to the human ethos, nay, the ethereal existence of being.
It is easy to become a creature of habit. The hard part is to avoid becoming a creature of complacency. To recognize the itinerant being of the mind and cater to its every wonton desire should be your goal. For no mind wishes to be confined any more than the skull will allow it. Our jobs are to drive our various sensory perceptions to greater understanding, past the garden of shock, through the front door of security. Understanding can only come when you explore the unknown or perhaps the unbeknownst.
It is with this that my reasons here in India have become what they are after two weeks. My familiarity has begun to breed. With at least 3 locations, I am now very familiar. My hotel. My office. A small mall area in Vasant Vihar. The shock is now gone from my side. Still seems to be very prevalent on the side of the natives, though. I am the recipient of many stares wherever I go. I am hesitant to say its my hue; there are many Indians here that are my complexion and a couple that I have seen that are darker. But of course there are things about my size that draw attraction. On average, I am about 8 inches taller. On average, I am about 140lbs. heavier.
For reference to those in the U.S., I am the parachuter into a stadium. I am the Tibetan Monk on the corner of 5th avenue and 34th street. I am the moon, eclipsing the daylight sun. I am one of many things that could get you to stop your conversation so that you can concentrate all of your energy on believing what you are seeing. And I wish all that I have said was a gross over-exaggeration. Alas, it is not. I have learned how to cope. I am coping.
From my very first taxi ride from the airport to my hotel, I passed no less than 10 cows on the road. My taxi driver drove like a bat out of hell, including driving against traffic on the wrong side of the road. I will go into more details in a later post. I have seen an elephant in traffic. A camel. Goats. And even those baby horses. Not pony’s, they just look like horses, but they’re miniature. I have seen monkeys on the side of the road and on fire escapes. I have resolved that I am no longer in Kansas, so to speak.
I have courageously started to go out on my own. This weekend, I took a trip to a mall that was in another part of town. The shops were terrible, but I was able to purchase a few necessities and that, in and of itself, felt liberating. I looked up a restaurant and went there to have lunch. That, too, felt good. Once I get a car, I look forward to further exploration of my new surroundings.
Everything in India is negotiable. You learn quickly that the business of sales and markets are heavily driven by what someone feels they can get out of you. Being an expatriate, I have already been tried on a few occasions. You win some, you lose some. My only saving grace is that I do know business. An example. I was leaving a restaurant and asked for a taxi. I’ve gotten into the habit of asking locals how much something should cost. I asked this of the wait staff. How much should it cost to get from here to my hotel? 75 Rupees. Okay fine. That’s roughly US$1.67. I get in the cab. This was the conversation:
Driver:
It will cost 125 R.S
Me:
But I was told it costs 75 R.S.
Driver:
Night Time Charge!! 25% more!!
Me:
That’s not what the waiter told me, I’m only paying 75. If it was more, you should have told him to tell me that.
Driver:
After 11pm, 25% more!
Me:
(Look at watch) It’s 10:55pm
Driver:
Well it’s almost 11pm (mind you, we’re about 2 minutes from the hotel at this point, so I would arrive there before the clock strikes 11.)
Me:
First things first, even if it was a 25% charge, that would not make it 125 R.S. The fact that your math is wrong lets me know that you’re lying (As if he gives a rat's ass about my english conveyed logic. We arrive). Let me know now if you have change for this 100 R.S. If you don’t, I’ll go get it from inside the hotel and give you 75 R.S. exactly.
Driver:
(Goes in pocket and pulls out two 10 R.S.) I only have 20.
Me:
Fine (make exchange and get out)
Funny thing is there’s not supposed to be any hard feelings. That’s just the nature of doing business here. You outsmart the not so smart. I can see how it works on someone who is only here for a few days, but after awhile, it just doesn’t work anymore. And if you threaten to walk away, you should see how much the price will come down. In the pecking order, the money spender has an advantage over the seller. With poverty being what it is here, you never know when you’ll get your next sell. So in the end, the seller takes what he can get. And in the end, you become the leader of your own desires, not a follower of the desires of others.
Well, these are a set of my first observations here. More to follow including pictures.
It is easy to become a creature of habit. The hard part is to avoid becoming a creature of complacency. To recognize the itinerant being of the mind and cater to its every wonton desire should be your goal. For no mind wishes to be confined any more than the skull will allow it. Our jobs are to drive our various sensory perceptions to greater understanding, past the garden of shock, through the front door of security. Understanding can only come when you explore the unknown or perhaps the unbeknownst.
It is with this that my reasons here in India have become what they are after two weeks. My familiarity has begun to breed. With at least 3 locations, I am now very familiar. My hotel. My office. A small mall area in Vasant Vihar. The shock is now gone from my side. Still seems to be very prevalent on the side of the natives, though. I am the recipient of many stares wherever I go. I am hesitant to say its my hue; there are many Indians here that are my complexion and a couple that I have seen that are darker. But of course there are things about my size that draw attraction. On average, I am about 8 inches taller. On average, I am about 140lbs. heavier.
For reference to those in the U.S., I am the parachuter into a stadium. I am the Tibetan Monk on the corner of 5th avenue and 34th street. I am the moon, eclipsing the daylight sun. I am one of many things that could get you to stop your conversation so that you can concentrate all of your energy on believing what you are seeing. And I wish all that I have said was a gross over-exaggeration. Alas, it is not. I have learned how to cope. I am coping.
From my very first taxi ride from the airport to my hotel, I passed no less than 10 cows on the road. My taxi driver drove like a bat out of hell, including driving against traffic on the wrong side of the road. I will go into more details in a later post. I have seen an elephant in traffic. A camel. Goats. And even those baby horses. Not pony’s, they just look like horses, but they’re miniature. I have seen monkeys on the side of the road and on fire escapes. I have resolved that I am no longer in Kansas, so to speak.
I have courageously started to go out on my own. This weekend, I took a trip to a mall that was in another part of town. The shops were terrible, but I was able to purchase a few necessities and that, in and of itself, felt liberating. I looked up a restaurant and went there to have lunch. That, too, felt good. Once I get a car, I look forward to further exploration of my new surroundings.
Everything in India is negotiable. You learn quickly that the business of sales and markets are heavily driven by what someone feels they can get out of you. Being an expatriate, I have already been tried on a few occasions. You win some, you lose some. My only saving grace is that I do know business. An example. I was leaving a restaurant and asked for a taxi. I’ve gotten into the habit of asking locals how much something should cost. I asked this of the wait staff. How much should it cost to get from here to my hotel? 75 Rupees. Okay fine. That’s roughly US$1.67. I get in the cab. This was the conversation:
Driver:
It will cost 125 R.S
Me:
But I was told it costs 75 R.S.
Driver:
Night Time Charge!! 25% more!!
Me:
That’s not what the waiter told me, I’m only paying 75. If it was more, you should have told him to tell me that.
Driver:
After 11pm, 25% more!
Me:
(Look at watch) It’s 10:55pm
Driver:
Well it’s almost 11pm (mind you, we’re about 2 minutes from the hotel at this point, so I would arrive there before the clock strikes 11.)
Me:
First things first, even if it was a 25% charge, that would not make it 125 R.S. The fact that your math is wrong lets me know that you’re lying (As if he gives a rat's ass about my english conveyed logic. We arrive). Let me know now if you have change for this 100 R.S. If you don’t, I’ll go get it from inside the hotel and give you 75 R.S. exactly.
Driver:
(Goes in pocket and pulls out two 10 R.S.) I only have 20.
Me:
Fine (make exchange and get out)
Funny thing is there’s not supposed to be any hard feelings. That’s just the nature of doing business here. You outsmart the not so smart. I can see how it works on someone who is only here for a few days, but after awhile, it just doesn’t work anymore. And if you threaten to walk away, you should see how much the price will come down. In the pecking order, the money spender has an advantage over the seller. With poverty being what it is here, you never know when you’ll get your next sell. So in the end, the seller takes what he can get. And in the end, you become the leader of your own desires, not a follower of the desires of others.
Well, these are a set of my first observations here. More to follow including pictures.
posted by JayGee at 9/27/2006 04:44:00 AM
1 Comments:
Finally.
Keep them comming. I enjoyed reading it.
Good to see you are settling in.
We miss you back here in NY.
Post a Comment
<< Home