Things I May Have Forgotten to Tell You

Number 1:

Men hold hands here. Teenage guys, young men, older men, men hold hands all over town, possibly all over India. Sometimes they've just got their pinky fingers linked, other times it's the whole hand- but in a very casual way, not that grasping, gripping way. I find the hand-hold itself can look extremely dainty, there is no other word for it. Unless you can do a reverse Balderdash for me and tell me the perfect word to match this dictionary definition: held loosely and away from the self, as in the way one might pick up a used diaper. Like, if someone held my hand that way I would think "They're not really into me" or "They're not into commitment" or "I bet they have a wimpy handshake" It does make for a strange sight but only because we're not used to seeing it in the West. For example, Sarah's travelling friend couldn't get over how open men were about being gay here, until Sarah explained it was culturally acceptable to hold hands. In the land of arranged marriages, they're not so big on the rights of gays and lesbians, yet. So yeah, sometimes when a group of 6 or 7 young men are walking towards me, clearly speaking about me, occasionally breaking off and widening their span on the road so I'll have to walk through them instead of around them, well, it's harder to feel intimidated if 2 of them are holding hands. But it can still happen. Then I feel like playing my own mad-dog version of Red Rover and bringing my hand down like a quick and fast Karate chop - breaking the hand hold. Just because I could.

Number 2:

We saw the house where Swamiji was born. Two weeks ago, we headed out with Babaji. It was supposed to be one simple busride direct from the Pushkar stop to the Ajmer stop, but we were with Babaji, so we took two buses, got off at the end of a bridge, crossed a roundabout type area and crossed a street that resembled a highway because it had lanes and painted white lines. Then we took an autorickshaw, got off at the end of some street and walked until one of Swamiji's nieces came running out to find us. When we switched buses, we got surrounded by a mini-crowd. Babaji looked like a bit of a saddhu rock-star, with three western girls hanging out with him. He referred to it like this: "The men, all people look, look, see. They you me think love story." He said it and pointed to each of us "...they you (points to one of us) me (points to himself) think love story." It was quite funny. Funnier than the part where an older woman decided to stick her cane up my legs. Yeah, you heard me. At the bus switcheroo junction, where we weren't supposed to be and where Babaji was trying to be a stoic saddhu and get directions about which bus we needed to take next, this crowd gathers. Babaji tells us to sit down and wait, so Sarah and Jessie sit and as I move to go sit, an older woman sticks her cane between my legs and says something that's a real crowd-pleasing one-liner in Hindi. I say to the girls "I think that woman just stuck her cane between my legs on purpose," because you do have a moment with something like that where you're just not sure, before your brain kicks in and says "Ah, no, that would be a pretty preposterous accident, a stick showing up between your legs and whacking you on your behind." Jessie was facing me and says "I think you're right. Everyone's tittering." Even in these moments I can express gratitude. For example: she didn't use the hooked part of the cane and try to give it good, smacking me on both sides, front and back.

Number 3:

While I stood and waited for my friend to meet me near the entrance to Pushkar, two cars full of Indian men slowed down as they drove past me. One car slowed down as they drove past and they stared like I was an endangered Mallorcan midwife toad (Latin name: Alytes muletensis). Say what? Oh, you know, why else would they stare? Being that white women are not on a list, not one that I know of, unless it's the list Kris Kringle checks every Christmas. I only wished I knew bird calls or could imitate some wild life. The second car stopped and a bunch of college aged guys asked me, me, where the temple was. I said "Which one?" The driver says "The Brahma Temple" Like duh, Eufemia "the reason Pushkar is a famous destination Temple." And then I gave them directions, or I started to. A motorcycle carrying three fully-grown Indian men drove up and proceeded to give these guys directions. Especially here, they don't want to take directions from a female. And who said you never learn something new from a blog? (Okay, it could have been me, I admit, I have curry on my face for how much I'm loving the blog when I said many a time before "blogs bug me.") But in case you were wondering, the Mallorcan midwife toad has now been downlisted from Critically Endangered to Vulnerable. The population suffered severe declines in the past due to predation by the viperine snake and competition for space with the green frog. For more information on this lil' trooper and other toads: http://www.iucn.org/

There's more, and honestly, I'm blogging as fast as I can but it's late and my time's running out and I've sanitized my hands several times due to sneezing. Time to call it a अज.