Etc.

After three weeks of travel, over two of which were in India, I
noticed a few things. These are all the observences that did not make
it into the blogs for one reason or another.

Hair:
Everyone in India has amazingly well kempt hair, especially the men.
Even the majority of the people on the street had brushed, well
groomed hair, usually styled in a part. Also, almost every single man
you see has on a collared shirt. It may not be nice, and it may not be
clean, but it has a collar. There's something to be said about looking
your best, even when you are living in the street.

Bizzare vs. Bazaar
I'm not sure if the later stemmed from the former, but I tell you
these bazaars here are aptly named. Just craziness everywhere.

Crossing the street:
It's not "like" a game of chicken, it IS a game of chicken. You have
to gage the speed and determination of the oncoming drivers and decide
if you can make it. If you hesitate, then you will never get across.
Someone referred to it as akin to Frogger (the old stand up video game
in which you are supposed to get a frog across the street with traffic
seemingly coming from every direction. Also in a great Seinfeld
episode).

Driving:
The driving here is insane. I've finally figured out the system -
that's not to say that I could drive in it, but I think I understand
it. The driving is actually the same as crossing the street- it's a
constant game of chicken. When a car is coming at you in your lane,
even if it is on the wrong side of the road, it's all about who
flinches first. No one makes sudden moves because every cubic inch (or
centimeter, I guess) is taken up by a either a car, bus, truck,
rickshaw, bicycle, motorcycle, person, cow, dog, elephant, or goat. At
red lights - when people actually stop - and the light is about to
change everyone revs their engines, slides up next to one another and
rolls back and forth. It looks like the start of a demolition derby. I
hope they are hard at work on Grand Theft Auto VII, Delhi.

Inundating:
Another appropriate word to describe what it's like to walk around as
a foreigner. The constant barage of people approaching and/or yelling
at you is exhausting. As I came out of the Los Angeles airport a man
approached me asking if I needed help with anything. I had this
visceral reaction and immediately said "No thank you!" and tried to
walk away. As it turns out, LAX has a cadre of volunteers who actually
just help people at the airport. They're not trying to get money from
you; they're not trying to get you to go to their hotel or ride in
their taxi. It was quite refreshing!

Westerners:
I always find it odd when I see other travelers, other western
travelers trying to fit in to the culture, or more so, trying to be a
local. Usually this is ostensiby in their dress, wearing sarees or
other local garb which they would never be caught in at any other
time. Maybe I'm being judgemental, but it seems as if these people are
trying to be someone different - change who they are - by dressing or
eating differently. I find travel and more so immersion in another
culture allows me to be more of myself, both in the good and bad ways.
But maybe that's why other people travel, to escape who they are for a
short time. I do it to further find myself. I guess it's this
incongruity that gets me.

Handmade:
I'm sure they have automated factories somewhere, but by much of what
I saw, they do most things by hand. Labor is so cheap here it just
makes sense. Out in the mountains I saw a couple of people making
gravel by hand, GRAVEL for Pete's sake!! A guy would sit on a big pile
of larger rocks, grab one, and hit it with a hammer and break it into
smaller rocks. Ridiculous!!

Record keeping:
Every transaction has an associated paper receipt, carbon copy, rubber
stamp, and signature. It's a sure fire bureaucracy. I guess this is
what it was like before computers. Someone said to me that India is
about 30 years behind. That makes since all the men dress like they're
straight out of the 70's.

High end, low end:
India's high end is right on par with any developed country's, but
their low end drops off the face of the earth. This dichotomy is
apparent everywhere you go as there are many people living in the
streets while life goes on around them. It is just accepted as the way
it is here. If you stop to think about it you will not get very far.

Fixies!
The hipsters must have sent the fixed gear trend across the world as
many people here ride bicycles, and they are all fixed gear (the
bicycles). The bikes aren't quite as cool looking with matching red
tires to your candy apple frame, but that doesn't make the riders here
pedal any less hard.

Swastikas:
The first time I saw one emblazoned on a temple I figured India was
not overrun with white supremists, but found it curious nonetheless. I
unfortunately have not had the appropriate internet time to research
this, so if anyone has better information please post it. From the
Buddhists I asked, they said it is an ancient symbol for peace, an
ironic, but maybe purposeful symbol that Hitler must have usurped.
Even realizing that the sybmbol was theirs first, I still can't get
over the impact of seeing them all over with the weight of the meaning
they carry for us westerners. (I saw one guy walking around with a
large swastika on the front of his t-shirt. Can you imagine someone
wearing that in the US?!)

Carlos and Aashumi:
The night if the wedding when we were all hanging out at the rooftop
bar, Aashumi recalled the story of how they met, their courting, etc.
One detail in particular stood out to me: after the second time they
had met, Carlos made Aashumi 16 mix tapes. Sixteen!!!! And then he
Fedexed them to her for her birthday! Overnight! (she was living in NY
at the time, he in DC) The most mixtapes I've ever made for a girl is
like five, and that was over a period of two or three months. But
that's probably why Carlos is married and I haven't been in a stable
relationship in six years. I guess I just haven't been willing to put
in the effort... Sixteen!!!