In India

No posts in a while I know....thing's have been hectic. I got to Agra, and I've been aranging my graceful exit from the land of the beef-less. At least half that time went into getting to Agra....

Seriously....no flights?

The Taj Mahal, perhaps you've heard of it. One of the seven wonders of the world, reason numero uno to come to this country. It's in Agra, south of Delhi.
No flights.
None.

There was an airport in the city but the government has closed it....
http://www.fodors.com/forums/threadselect.jsp?fid=27&tid=34805991

Government of India....what were you thinking?
So you have to go to Delhi and drive there. It's 120 miles....so it takes, go on guess.....

4 hours

So I went to a few travel agencies, who upon telling them I wanted to go to Agra, were more than happy to try to book a ticket to Delhi for me.

>>'Right how do I get to Agra after that'

Blank stares....

>>'Is there a bus, a train, a car....what?'

'Oh all those bus, train car'

>>'Can you book one?'
blank stares

Now this was frustrating....

Transvestites are not magic!

>>'Surely I can't be the only one who wants to see the Taj, you're a travel agency right?'

'Ha travel agency'

>>'And you have no connections with any other kind of booking for someone who wants to go to Agra?'

At this point a transvestite beggar walked up from the street and started standing in the doorway and said something in a sing-song voice.
The man behind the desk immediatley got up and gave him/her 10 ruppess.

I believe this was a hijra , transvestites who live as beggars. They are believed to have magic powers, and the ability to curse you. "Believed" in the way you might believe balck cats to be unlucky, but believed enough to get money.

Then the travel agent sat back down and said nothing and went back to his blank stare routine.
Unreal....but i finally just booked the flight on my own.

Things that make you go hmmm....
On the way to work this morning I stopped off at the bodega to grab some bottled water.
I just use the word for any small shop, it's not like they've got Tito Puente music playing in it or anything. Outside the bodega was a truck....on the front it said
"Explosive Van".

Then on the side it said "Defense department" and under that "ordinance".

The fruit-wallah was talking to the guys in the back of the truck. Hopefully the guys in the truck just wanted some bananas or coconuts, otherwise the fruit wallah is gearing up for somehting big.

On Negotiating
When the ricksahw guys shake their head and go 'nahi', you have to start throwing numbers at them. Recently my haggling has been going poorly because pach-ees is 25 and pach-ahs is 50. This is a linguistic odditidy because the other multiples of 10 all end in -ees.

• 20, bis
• 30, tee-ees
• 40, char-ees
• and then 50....pach-ahs

Then again try explaining why it's 'twelve' and not 'two-teen'.

Crazytown
My time here is winding down, that's probably the most persistent thing on my mind.

Classic rickshaw driver story

So....after a few beers at dinner I could'nt find one to take me back ( they're a little scarce after 9 or so)...I finally found one
"90 Rupees"
Not caring anymore I just hopped in and laughed a bit...India is the the only place where someone can cahrge you two bucks and you know you're being blatently ripped-off.
We had a good spirited conversation...I in broken Hindi , he in broken English.

His name was Raj

"Means King right?"

>> "Ah but I am no king...am badh!"
"Badh?"
>>"I charge you 90 rupees, I badh!"
"Yeah ...you're a baaaad man ( half laugihing)...so how about 30?"

>> "Nahi 90!....no worry, not only you , I charging everyone more!Many friends and money I am having. Many tourists, many monyies"

Hilarious....

He's just smiling and swinging around the whole time to talk, driving recklessly. Telling me how much he rips people off for...
>> "Hotel Meridian..malum hei?"
"Yeah I know...down by the train right?"

>> "Waiting there ...morning...many tourists, many monyies"

Then we stopeed at a ricksahw garage ( I use the term 'garage' in the loosest sense of the word)...he needed to trade some wires for some other wires....
and yell at someone a bit....whatever....this kind of thing used to upset me....now I know where I am, so I just light a cigarete....and kick back.

But once we pulled out of the rickshaw garage, he got onto the wrong side of the road.
"Hey Raj....buddy, I don't need to tell you, we just hopped the meridian, WRONG SIDE!"
>> "Ah no worry....is my style!"

( starts singing some awful hindi tune and swerving on and off the shoulder on the road as everyone beeps at us)....

>>"la lala la la la ...la la la lala"
"Your style is very ...crazy...."
>>"Go 2 kilometer then U-Turn...waste petrol, plenty space on road, see here!"

As I got out and checked my pulseI wasn't even upset about any of it...in fact I could hardly stop lauging.... I then realized....

awww.....crazytown, I'm gonna miss you.

What's going to liven up my mornings and evenings without the rickshaw?

What about my wallah, cleaning the place and doing my laundry for $20 a month?

Where will all those ultra-attendant waiters be? (They insist on serving it from the serving bowl to your plate, it's all they can do to keep from tripping over eachother. They'd put the food in your mouth and massage your jaw if you let them,)

Seriously ....I can't make up these stories.
My life is going to be sooo boring after this.