Ellen: Only in India

September 25, 2010

This next series of blog entries comes to you in unchronilogical order. Its been a rather crazy 2 weeks and I anticipate that it will only get crazier.

Firstly, I am disclaiming my grammar and spelling for all of my blog entries past, present and future—because I get on the internet so rarely I am always rushing to check a million things plus trying to put together a coherent blog entry. Plus, the internet cafe has a slow connection and doesn’t always automatically spell check for me. And sometimes I don’t want to spend extra time (meaning rupees) on re-reading and for that I am sorry. Pleeze furgiv mme.

Just now, after telling Kamlish “Mai Raja Park me ja rahi hu” and him responding with “Jao” I made my way to ye olde internet cafe: down the little lane, jog to the smelly street and onwards to Raja Park. I am not as startled by the stares and comments every 2 feet anymore: I ignore it, make my angry face and walk with purpose. Rickshaw drivers always slow down to see if you need a ride, and you just wave them past and say “nahi” Well. 5 minutes ago on the smelly street I noticed a driver slowing down behind me and prepared to wave him past, when I turned it was a man in a car slowing down and stopped next to me and asked if I needed a ride. I said no and waved him away. [my mama raised me right] He kept speed with my walking and said I looked very beautiful today. Then he drove away. I should be freaked out by this—but I couldn’t stop laughing all the way to the internet cafe. I wasn’t scared or creeped out. I want to be flattered, but I can’t be because he probably does that to any white woman he sees. Its noon on a beautiful Saturday, I have short blonde hair and am wearing my favorite blue kurta. I was a tad conspicuous. If that happened in the US I would run away, but this is India and it happens.


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