Renata in India: Mysore, etc.

I spent most of Saturday curing myself from my jetlag through sleep and lazily reclining on the couch while getting better acquainted with my fellow interns and supervisor. A terrible headache hit me around right after lunch, which even extra doses of ibuprofen and a decent nap couldn’t cure me of. When I was tired of feeling sorry for myself, I changed into my workout cloth and headed down to the gym for a short run and some yoga. My headache was gone after the first 500 meters.

Meanwhile it seemed that the monsoon finally arrived with a quick burst of heavy rain accompanied with a cool breeze. On my way back to the apartment I decided to walk the 17 flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator. The rain pounding on the glassless windowsills and the soft breeze blowing through the staircase provided me with a sense of peace and gave me some space and time to clear my head and reflect. I think I’m going to be taking the stairs quite often.

Sunday I woke up very early, 5:30 AM, because Diamond, Xiaomin, and I decided to go on a tour to Mysore. We took an auto rickshaw to the bus station and from there the tour bus took us from the temples of Srirangapatna to the Mysore Palace and finally to the Brindavan Garden. It is difficult to summarize my experience adequately with relying solely on chronological information, so I’m going to try to incorporate the development of my changing feelings as best as I can. The auto drive already scared me a little, because I’m still not used to Bangalore traffic and the unpleasant smells and heaps of rubbish that abound on the more crowded streets. The fact that it is quite possible to fall out of the rickshaw did not help ease my anxiety, but I was very excited to see more of the city. After the auto ride we handed our pre-purchased tickets to the officer at the travels office and waited for our bus to arrive. The bus was not overly crowded and we did have assigned seats, so I found myself sitting behind Diamond and Xiaomin and next to a lovely Indian lady who turned out to be our greatest help throughout the trip. She has lived in England for eighteen years, so many aspects of Indian life and culture seemed foreign to her as well, but of course she still understood customs and directions better than we did. The bus had curtains over the windows that I immediately pulled back so that I wouldn’t miss a single detail from the streets. It didn’t take long for my initial curiosity to turn into disbelief, disgust, and increased fascination all at the same time. I saw a plethora of interesting sights on these streets; things I have never seen before, things I didn’t know existed; some that filled me with awe and some that I wish I had not seen. Emaciated women carrying enormous bags on their heads, skinny, malnourished children packing vegetables and fruits (esp. mango and pineapple) onto trucks, men dressed in business suits riding to work on their motorbikes with women in all sorts of beautifully colored dresses holding on to their waists sitting behind them, chicken packed into small cages left on the sidewalk, cows eating out of garbage cans, angry home and office owners dumping trash right out onto the streets, and a generally completely chaotic scene all passed before my eyes as the bus sped through the already moderately heavy morning traffic. When we arrived to the temple at Srirangapatna, we were in for the biggest surprise of the day yet. Literally as soon as we stepped off the bus, we were attacked by vendors trying to sell us fans, jewelry boxes, small wooden figurines, bangles, and other authentic-looking items at exorbitant prices that no Indian would ever pay for such trifles. The terrifying part was that even after the hundredth “No thank you” or “I’m not interested” or “NO!!!” they still kept following me, calling out to me, shoving themselves and their items right into my face, and trying to force me to hold their products in my hands in the hopes that that would change my mind. Such behavior would qualify as harassment in the U.S., so it is no surprise that I was uncomfortable with it. After a while I became so exhausted and my spirits were so dampened by this molestation that I just sat down in front of the temple and offered to guard the other interns’ shoes when they went into the temple. Initially I just put the shoes into my backpack and tried to enter the temple in that way, but the guards yelled at me and said that no slippers can be taken into the temple, even if they are in my bag. Sitting on a warm block of stone in front of the temple I started staring into the distance and not even turning my head or moving my eyes as vendors continued to approach me. Thankfully they eventually got the message and came by me less frequently. A new surprise came shortly after. Both men and women began to approach me, asking me to take pictures with them. Everyone seemed to want to be in a picture with a blond, white person. I have never before experienced such acute attention simply based on my looks. I did feel like a celebrity for a short while and it did make me smile that simply being in a picture with someone could make them so happy, but as both young and middle-aged men began to approach me in greater numbers and not only wanting a picture but seemingly being intent upon having my shoulders touch theirs, I began to feel extremely uncomfortable and I pulled away from them thinking who do you think you are? You are not my friend!! How dare you stand so close to me? I wished that I had a burka on, or just a hijab at least so that people wouldn’t single me out in such a disconcerting manner based on my hair and skin color. But thankfully Diamond and Xiaomin appeared at the gate of the temple and we all bolted right back to the bus, not only because we did not want to deal with the vendors any longer, but also because our bus was getting ready to leave. After we got on the bus, vendors still stood under our windows, continuing their marketing and hoping for last-minute sales. At that point I was so uncomfortable and frustrated with them that I pulled the curtain across my window, the most drastic wordless rejection I could think of. It felt great.

At Mysore we were smarter and decided to leave our shoes on the bus. At first I was uncomfortable with walking barefoot in so much dirt, but since everyone else was doing it I quickly ceased to think about it. The entrance fee for foreigners was four times as much as for Indians, but we didn’t mind too much after entering the palace. We would have happily paid even ten times as much if we knew what to expect. The palace was incredibly beautiful, with extremely detailed paintings that look almost like photographs, breathtaking frescoes and statues, superb woodcarving, silver chairs, golden columns, and large mirrors. Unfortunately taking pictures there was forbidden, so I have now ay of proving that the palace really as that beautiful. We mused about how incredible it must have been to call such a palace your home.

After the palace we visited another temple that had lots of very tame monkeys around it, and then we arrived to the Brindavan Garden, our last stop. The fountains and flowers here really were nice. After the palace of course it did not seem impressive, but it was a nice garden nonetheless. However, some of the people in it were much less so. A few people immediately singled us out and demanded that we pay a penalty fee for using our cameras in the garden, when no one told us at the entrance that we were supposed to pay for that. It wasn’t so much the fact that they wanted money that made me angry, it was their attitude and the way in which they spoke to us and treated us. Darkness fell on the garden in a matter of just a few minutes, so we decided to head back to the bus, even though we still had about 30 minutes at our disposal to sightsee. When we reached the parking lot, our bus was nowhere to be found. Diamond was vey calm and assured us that surely the bus was either parked somewhere else in another parking lot and we’d find it soon, or that the bus went to get gas or something and will be back shortly. I was not so optimistic and I could tell that Xiaomin was also nervous but we didn’t say anything. We searched the entire area for our bus and even asked official-looking people if they knew where the bus could be. Of course, no one had any idea. It was very dark, the streets were swarming with people, and fear was just going wild in my mind. I was clutching my dog spray in one hand and holding on to my money pouch with the other. I have never experienced that kind of fear before, and I noticed my body shutting down. My eyes and ears were more alert, but my nerves seemed to have tensed up so much that I couldn’t speak at all. We went back to the original parking lot in the hopes that even if the bus is not there we could find another bus driver from the same company and he could tell us where our bus is. Thankfully, however, the bus was there that time. I was extremely relieved but I still couldn’t speak. I was very thankful for the other girls’ company though I knew that if trouble were to come they wouldn’t have been able to do any more than I to avert it. On the way home I had a refreshing, intellectual conversation with the lady sitting next to me, and it felt quite comforting. Soon another source of anxiety surfaced, namely that the bus would be arriving back to Bangalore after midnight (after curfew) and we had no set method of transportation back to our hotel. None of us had phones and we were wary of asking strangers for help. Diamond took charge again and as soon as we got off the bus she headed straight to the first auto rickshaw in sight. We ran across a wide, still busy street, climbed over a broken fence, and approached the closest driver. She quickly negotiated a price with him and we jumped right into the car. I was tense and nervous through the whole ride back to the hotel, but then we finally arrived safe and sound. To top off the events of the night, we found an enormous cockroach in our kitchen, which Diamond stomped on with a force that contained all her stress and nerves of the night. That poor cockroach sure chose the wrong night to saunter around our apartment. When I entered my room, still not quite able to speak, I saw that my new roommate, Emma, was already in bed. It’s a good thing that she is not a light sleeper because I really would have hated for her to meet me in such a state of mind.

Now that I reflect on the entire trip, the negative experiences are already becoming less and less powerful in my mind. I am thankful for the lessons they taught me and I’m eager to start a new day with new knowledge and energy. As Diamond said, while danger is real fear is an option. I will try to keep her words in mind as I continue along my journey in India, and slowly allow the positive thoughts to replace the negative ones.