Laid Back in Udaipur
Kim and I spent a few good days just wandering in and around the city, perfectly content to walk till we were horribly lost and then take a rickshaw back to wherever we figured we might have been headed when we first left.
That took us first to more endlessly fascinating vegetable markets, where I took the opportunity to join in the haggling over some grapes. Selling at Rs. 30/- a kilo, I asked for a quarter kilo. The woman says, it's only Rs. 15/- for half a kilo, why don't you take half a kilo instead? Now I understand that "only Rs. 15/-" really isn't that much (about 30 cents), but this time, I wasn't really concerned with the number of rupees, I was worried about the number of grapes! Voicing that, she said, "Okay okay, you give me Rs. 10/-." So in all ironies of ironies, when I would have paid Rs. 15/- for a quarter kilo (probably would have paid 30/-, I just wanted some grapes!) and I ended up with half a kilo of grapes for Rs. 10/-. So I ended up sharing grapes with anyone who looked my way. Angur chaiyye? When we decided it was time to catch a rickshaw (we decided we wanted to go back to the lakeside), we got the first (and maybe only) rickshaw driver to give us an honest fare without making me haggle. For his honesty (and my grape plight) he ended up with a quarter kilo of grapes and a Rs. 10/- tip, too. I asked him why he gave us a decent fare even when we were obviously tourists (sorry, Kim, you don't exactly blend in...). Responding with some of the most amazing logic ever, he says,
"If you're greedy like most rickshaw drivers, you haggle yourself to a headache and end up taking Rs. 30/- anyway because you need the money and the frustrated tourist begrudgingly gives you 30/-. I just say 30/-, please the tourist that he got the 'local fare', and invariably get a Rs. 10/- tip."
And as I look back, it's scary how true that is. I invariably tip the rickshaw-wallahs that give me a good fare at the start. And I never tip the rickshaw drivers I have to bargain with. Seems like a lot of these rickshaw guys need to get their heads in the game.
The next evening, Kim and I caught a made-for-tourists folk dance show. Backdropped by one of Udaipur's lovely havelis, it was a treat to see some (surprisingly) good traditional dance. While the crowd's favorite was the women dancing with 10 matkas (pots) balanced on their heads, mine was a performance of terataali where every time one of the manjeeras (bells) clinked, I flashbacked to when I was 8 years old and taking part in BAPS' Cultural Festival of India and doing the same dance three times a day in front of the crowds in Edison, NJ. Oh so many memories. But it was a great show, and for sure, being able to dance on broken glass with 10 matkas is really a feat, but, hey, to each his own.
Kim and I also spent the better part of one day fighting with the Hutch people again because (just like mine did so many times) her phone stopped working again. For anyone that reads this or stumbles across this - HUTCH SUCKS! AVOID THEM LIKE THE PLAGUE! But by all means, invest in their stock - they're making a killing on new connections and fees, and since everyone in India wants a cellphone, they just keep signing up, and don't care whether the phones really work - it's all prepaid anyway!
Well, on one of my long walks, I came across a nice man sitting on his steps. He asked where I was from (typical...) and then asked if I wanted some tea. I was about to say no (I've fallen for that one and been asked to pay Rs. 40/- for a kulladi of tea), but then something struck me... There wasn't a shop, piece of clothing, or trinket anywhere in sight. So I said, what the hell, I don't have Rs. 40/- on me anyway...
That encounter turned into a few new friends (including a very nice, but jaded, french woman) and a dinner invitation (which we found out was to be cooked by the Maharani's personal chef!). My fascination with India's tourism industry and perception of westerners steered our conversation into two very interesting points made by our new friends. He argued that to be more tourist friendly, India had to do two things. First, separate business and friends. He found it just as annoying as me that every shop owner tries to strike up conversation and just when you think you made a new friend he tries to sell you something. Second, "Keep God in your business, but don't make business your God." I am all for keeping a murti in the place of business as a reminder to be honest, open, and trustworthy in business. I am all against keeping an image of Laxmi (and only Her) and praying daily that She bring more customers. Now I agree that economically, price discrimination is a fact of life, but that doesn't mean I like it. Just because I'm a tourist doesn't mean that I WANT to pay twice as much as everyone else does. Grrr.
Anyway. Our last full day in Udaipur was spent just chilling by the lake, enjoying the view of the Maharaja's Palace, and the lovely Lake Palace Hotel which, thanks to recent rains, looked like it was floating serenely in the middle.
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