Through White Eyes/ The Castle

I'd always heard that Indians hassle the hell out of white girls but I found it hard to believe.  My experience has been that this is a very safe place and had an excessive protection of women.  There were two tourists from Germany staying at my guest house and the three of us set off in the morning to go explore the city.  They had mentioned that they were constantly hounded by kids and peddlers and skebe men.  I assumed that it was just the big cities that they were in so far, Delhi being notorious.  Turns out it's because they were good looking white girls.  As soon as we rounded the corner from the hotel there was a flock of kids around them asking for "school pen", "10 rupees", and "one photo."

The previous day I tried to get to the fort, which is easily visible from every part of the city.  I kept getting closer but hit one dead end after another.  I climbed up over the wall and was again blocked.  The closer I got the further away I realized it was.

This time I let my Germans lead and together we found an entrance right away.  We took in the complex keeping an eye out for the ticketing booth  but did notice that the few tourists out so early had audio tour headphones on.  We were eventually asked to show our tickets which we had to go back down the ramps to find.  Turns out we came in through a different entrance than most.  Eventually we were in.  I commented that it felt like I was stuck in Kafka's Castle, always getting closer but never actually getting inside, but my story had a more satisfying ending.

The fort is magnificent, it's a stunning structure and the collection through the museum, coupled with the audio tour really show you what life was like for 15th century Rajputs.  Generally, it was about war, honor, indulgence and purdah.  There is a plaque on the walls where you can see the tiny handprints of the wives of one of the rajas on their way to sati.

It was very interesting watching the difference between how I was approached and how the women were talked to in the tourist market under the clock tower.  They were told they were beautiful, but somehow not at all in a flattering way, and I was informed about their friends in America, then directed to their uncle's shop.  None of it was appealing to any of us, so I picked up a massive watermelon for us to gorge on and lugged it back to the hotel.

I decided to book a camel safari for the next day, and I needed money to pay up front for it.  We set out to the ATM which according to everyone on the path was always 1/2 kilometer straight ahead, after a couple kilometers we found it.  My card didn't work so I needed to call customer service.  I hate lazy ass Indian call centers with a passion.  You all know what the first answer is, try again in 5 minutes meaning you'll get someone else and it will be their problem then.  The next response is that something is wrong with the machine despite the fact that both the ones I tried were working for everyone else.  Finally it was determined that my account was still not activated.  That being the first thing that I told them was probably the issue.

Being visibly distraught the girls bought me a coconut to soothe my ruffled feathers and we set of to more serene pastures at Umaid Garden.  I noticed at this point that special "Indian" price for NRIs is about 25% more than the price they give tall German girls with a nice smile.  The garden was pitiful.  Most public parks seem to be a place for the homeless to nap and take drugs while secret couples cavort.  At the market, at the park and just walking around town, these women attracted attention from men and boys like they were visiting royalty who were likely to pass out gold coins.  Some of it was begging, some horny and some just genuine curiosity

Near the garden was a bank and I had US dollars on me so great maybe I can change money there.  The NRI office was very friendly when they informed me , at 4:04PM, that they stop changing money at 4PM.  But they did point me to another bank just 1/2 a kilometer down the road, yeah right.  I went to collect my entourage but they were roped into being the official photographers of a birthday party at the bank.  Of course the bank I went to was closed, looks like I'm living The Castle again.

Back at the hotel the owner was kind enough to change money for me, at a special Indian rate.  Still better than the bank gave me.  The bank was 42, this guy was 42.6 and a store gave me 45.

Color and Caste still hold importance to some segments, usually poorer, less sophisticated segments of society.  Sunil, made it very clear on a number of occasions that he was Brahmin and mentioned that all white people look better than Indians.  He also liked to remind us that he was a Bollywood star in his youth.  Small impotent men make me indignant.

I do have to agree that we Indians do have a short shelf life in the motherland.  We can be a stunningly good looking people until about 25 and then the toll of direct sunlight, poor dental hygene and oily foods rear their fat ugly leathery heads.  I just want to tell the whole country, "Do a sit-up people!"