Afternoon's thought for the day

Been feeling exhausted the last couple of days. These early mornings and the heat become too much sometimes. After my rather fruitless lesson today I stayed in the room and had a sleep and did some reading. The idea of exploring Jaipur doesn't appeal much anymore.

Teena has, I think, come to terms with the fact that in about two weeks I will be leaving. Which is good. All the emotional baggage I am beginning to acquire is getting daunting.

It occurred to me that the travelling way of life is so contrary to the Indian way of life. No wonder we are such obvious thumbs, bleeding our dollar signs onto the streets.

Travellers demand constant movement, a reliance upon no one and expect no commitments to be fulfilled. We are utterly selfish and self-fulfilling. Our relationships are two/three day dramas with romantic scenery and awkward hugs for goodbyes. We always complain that we don’t see ‘real’ Indians, that our experience of natives is always men in the form of pushy salesmen and rickshaw drivers, or beggars.

Imagine the way that a conversation would be altered by the presence of a video camera – we would become self-conscious, shifting our body language uncomfortably and reluctant to reveal too much of ourselves. The Indian population is the same with foreigners. White skin is a video camera. We make them perform, and they do so hoping for some kind of reward. Religion is performed – donations accepted. Conversation is performed – a sale desired. And it is no coincidence that we always produce a camera.

Two Indian people talking – they talk. Two Indian people talking with a camera pointed at them - they stop talking, thumbs up, smiles.

The people here take their time. I have already been asked a few times why I am always in such a hurry. It is usually to avoid small talk. Sometimes I am in a hurry – perhaps I am running to grab something from my room, despite my food having already been ordered. Maybe I’m late for a lesson. But otherwise, I’m just in a hurry to be by myself. To get my book out, or my guitar. I enjoy solitude here. Small talk with Indians is too fraught with mistrust. Well, the ones I meet on the street.

But here family is so important. They spend their entire days and nights in each others’ pockets. They know what is going on. Being in a bad mood is unthinkable. I can’t imagine a teenage rebellion. Rebelling seems impossible here. How could a teenager have a secret affair? Teena reliably explained that many of her friends ‘have sex’ with each other. Really? I couldn’t believe it. I was right, she meant they kiss and if they are unlucky, the girl will allow the tantalising prospect of fondled breasts – followed, I’m assuming, by a sharp jab on the arm from her.

The repression! They are dying to rip each others clothes off. Women often get groped in the chest on the street by strangers. I tried to explain that it was normal for teenagers to have sex in our country. With loads of people. In secret or otherwise. And that, yes maybe it is not entirely healthy, and sometimes it is fraught with embarrassment, guilt, confusion or jealousy, but at least it isn’t totally repressed!

But what I see as a lack of freedom is probably what holds families together. What I see as nosiness is nosiness. But it is done so not out of idleness but out of necessity. It seems impossible to imagine a society with such strict religious and familial values allowing sexual permissiveness. All it would take would be one handsome stranger to whisk a young woman like Teena away – allow her to taste the fruit, and then off she would be. Who would take care of her mother in ten years?

Teena has had many advances from Indian men. She tells me that other than two (secret) kisses she has rejected them all. Someone helped her the other day when her motorbike broke down (how cool is it that all the chicks here ride bikes!) and then asked her to go drink tea with him. I am relieved that techniques are not so different than back home.

She refused. I asked if he was handsome. “Yes,” she said, “but that is not important. I should not like him because he is handsome. I do not like everyone.”

I liked that. I do not like everyone. Of course! You don’t have to like everyone. I don’t like everyone. In fact I think I am equally vocal about what I don’t like as what I do like. I haven’t liked a lot of people I have met so far. In my head it seems disproportionately Israeli, but maybe my head struggles to add up in the face of a language written backwards and spoken sideways.

Anyway. The eternal toss up between freedom and responsibility. I toss it up daily with my early rise and traipse across town, and then my afternoon spent wishing I could bring a few real friends with me to share this experience. Because too many people here bore the shit out of me.