heureusement

How Bazaar

Went to the bazaar on Friday.. It was HUGE HUGE HUGE and overwhelming as usual. Everything of course was ridiculously inexpensive but there was such a big selection that I couldn’t bring my self to make any decisions. I just got a bracelet and a mug for my pencils. Although everyone dubiously claimed to have made their goods, (“this one took me seven days”) some people were actually sitting at their stands making their crafts. Just about every merchant picked me out of the crowd and called “You don’t have to buy, you just have to look madam!” If I did make a decision to stop and look, the merchant would try to keep me there by any means necessary, including offering me a cup of chai or pulling up a chair for me. They are very manipulative and I hated to be rude but I don’t need any crappy pashminas! Three people came up to me wanting either to take my picture or take their picture with me. One woman said I was “so cute.” Reverse tourism?

Although I thought the bazaar was overwhelming, trying to get to our taxis (which we had rented for four hours for a grand total of $2 a person) proved not just overwhelming, but scary. The sky had darkened and the mood turned sinister. As we exited, men pushed their hands through the fence (you had to pay to get in) urgently shaking small bottles and calling out to us. At first I thought they were selling drugs but as I looked closer, they were bubbles!

Once out on the street, we were harassed by child beggars. Apparently, other people in the group were waiting in the taxi and had been pestered by other children for 45 minutes. To garner sympathy, the older child shoved the younger child’s face into the window of the taxi until he cried. Someone in my group spotted an infant abandoned in the shoulder of the road. Then we had to cross the baby-laden road. No crosswalks of course. No possible way to cross with the light, as there were no traffic lights. The cabby ran across the road to fetch us. There was no break in the heavy, speeding traffic. He just weaved us through the cars as they whizzed passed within inches of us. I was terrified, clinging desperately to the person next to me. It seems that if you’re not risking your life, you’re doing something wrong in India.

Once we got to the parking lot where the taxis were waiting there was a lot of confusion (no English) as to how to divide us up so that we fit in the remaining spots. Of course the parking lot was not lit up and the children were still following us. Even though they were making things difficult for us, I still didn’t want them to get run over and it seemed like a possibility! We finally got on our way and made it home without killing any children. Phew.