The Pink City, India pt 3.

When we arrived in Jaipur the amount of rickshaw drivers pushing us around to get us to choose their beautiful, wonderful, cheap rickshaw overwhelmed me. It felt like being attacked by paparazzi or protesters in a political demonstration. The desperation was thick as porridge in the air and I felt suffocated. I kind of went into myself and let the Italian deal with the chaos. All in all, Diana was more used to the intense culture than me and this shows the huge differences between even Norway and Italy. In Norway people are reserved and keep to themselves, thus I got scared and overwhelmed by the rickshaw drivers wanting to know EVERYTHING about me as soon as I got out of the train station. At that point I was annoyed and angry, but when pondering about how this man has to support his family of 5 or 6 on a 2-dollar salary you can understand the desperation. In the beginning of arriving in India you want to give everyone money. Every little street kid asking you for rupees or food, every woman asking you for money for their kid who needs to go to the hospital. For every man who tries to rip you off by increasing the prize of a bag not only double the price but also hundred times the price it is worth. At the end of being in India for a while you understand that if you went with the flow and did not bargain or ignore street beggars you would be broke in a day. It sounds cynical, and it might be, but you are not the (direct) source of their misery. However, we did end up with Janu as a rickshaw driver. A nice young man with good manners. He told us all the country land lines for all the countries of the world it seems – amazing how many different people you can meet as a rickshaw driver in Jaipur. The guesthouse in Jaipur was clean and nice, and we met up with Vinod, the coordinator of the volunteer experience. A nicely dressed man with a passion for chai and meeting new people. (As he said himself.) He was obviously a subject to the pollution with having a constant cough and talking in a very low voice. I think I got to understand or hear for that sake, 40 % of the things he told us. We went for a little sightseeing in Jaipur and the motel owner gave us his ‘best rickshaw driver’. Bad idea. The guy was nice enough – but he ripped us off. Paid 250 rupees, when the price in Jaipur would be around 120 rupees. It is not too bad, but considering he knew we were volunteer workers I did not have compassion for him. At night, Vinod taught us some Hindi. At the end of the stay in India I knew all animals, colours and basic conversation. Not bad hey? The language is easy in some way, but difficult because of the signs. It was good to know the language a little bit, because the locals respected you and they would not try to rip you off that often. Vinod took us out for dinner every night in Jaipur and we tried many different types of food. The food in India is much more authentic than in an Indian restaurant in Norway or Australia. It has a different taste, which is almost indescribable compared to the food at Sitar in West End for example. It has not got so much sweetness to it, and coriander and curry can be tasted at a whole different level than in a tikka masala jar from Prix. Obviously. We also got ripped off when buying phones. They did not work for a loooong time. The problem with India is that money is before everything. Everybody talks about how much they paid for this and that and how much their brother or cousin is earning working overseas. In the slums, as I mentioned earlier people don’t care that much, but the middle class, or even the lower middle class are obsessed with money and the Western way of being. It is a problem that Western culture is so significant in a country that has their traditions so entrenched in their culture. How can a girl avoid an identity crises with miniskirts sold in the markets, but with not being allowed to wear due to the traditions and culture? How can young people not be confused when all Hollywood movies shows free love and marriages based on love when their life partner was chosen for them from birth and they have not even met the person they are going to marry? India is a country full of contradictions, therefore – as an outsider you feel like there is a love/hate relationship with this beautiful country of colours.