Fragments from the trip to India
Reading back from the notebook I brought to India last Spring, I wanted to share some more snippets I wrote during the trip:
1. Taxi drivers are interesting people. All very nice so far. They drive very fast.
‘Look out, you’ll run over someone’
‘Too many people in India anyway’ he said.
2. We spoke with a redheaded guy in the back of Taj Mahal.
He was kind and asked about our lives in exchange of a picture.
Apparently, it’s a trend to bleach their hair red.
3. Kids are charmingly sweet. In the little Taj Mahal we offered them some (sweets).
Alba was happily feeding them. She looked complete.
I was happy recording the whole thing.
4. The salesmen called me sweet. Quiet. Smart. They even told me I had a beautiful smile.
What they wanted was to sell and, for me, to buy.
It worked only the first time. Just because of the toned arms of that Indian guy.
5. Indian people are not spiritual at all. I looked ridiculous with my mala and all.
6. Taxi drivers sleep in between drives. They also eat whenever they can.
They bring these lunch boxes with rice and lentils with curry sauce. As if the same mother cooked them all.
7. They don’t wear a seatbelt unless there’s police. That felt familiar to me.
8. When in Mumbai, salesmen harass you less to buy.
They are far more interested in your love life. Actually, they even ask you personal stuff.
‘Cause they are used to judge people by just one glance.
They wear a bindi right in between their eyebrows. So that they can identify by color and shape their religion –teardrop for Vishnu and round for Shiva— area of origin –if it’s maroon, they come from the South— cast and whether they are married or not –or even widowed, if it’s black.
How sneaky they are. They want to know a lot from the unknown. But I guess we’re all shaped like that.
9. They find arms and shoulders very erotic –unlike stomachs, that women shamelessly show off.
So they easily get turned on by Western women who wear little tank tops. (I did not came to that conclusion: the tour guide said it to me).
10. While taking pictures in India, I felt like Mapplethorpe –Patti’s first love.
He had to wisely decide what picture he had to take because he had limited camera roll and no budget to buy more.
My concern was not the camera roll: I had limited time to decide whether or not to steal their smile.
11. Last thing I bought was a mug at the airport.
I looked for one the last two days. It had to be the weirdest and quirkiest one.
I think I did quite a good job: you loved it and so did your mom. (I saw her drinking from it once).