One morning in Kolkata I was taken aback when someone shouted at me "go back to your own country", but mostly, as a white westerner they spot me coming a mile off with hopes of extracting some sterling-dollar-euro rupees. Approached by beggars and hard-luck storytellers, hailed by traders, constantly greeted and offered ... Well...anything that might be on offer, but always with an inflated western price tag.
Everyone, but everyone, has a finger in the Great Rupee Pie.
Sometimes I wish they would just leave me alone. Allow me to walk, and pause, and look, at my own pace. A flâneur. But that's not how it works.
Get on the bus, though, and it's a different matter. There are seats allocated to "ladies, the handicapped, and senior citizens", and nobody speaks to anyone. For once people don't want to know which country I'm from, how old I am, what I do for a living, how many children I have, how long I'm staying.
On the crowded bus from Chaudi to Karwar no one moved over to make space for me to sit down, and on the return I watched at every stop as people scrambled aboard and chose where to sit, subtly avoiding the seat next to mine. The place remained unoccupied for the 90 minute ride.
But I guess I'm guilty of similar when I get on the Number 1 from Matson into Gloucester.
So yesterday I took myself to the beach to hang out with the strays in the sun.
Everyone, but everyone, has a finger in the Great Rupee Pie.
Sometimes I wish they would just leave me alone. Allow me to walk, and pause, and look, at my own pace. A flâneur. But that's not how it works.
Get on the bus, though, and it's a different matter. There are seats allocated to "ladies, the handicapped, and senior citizens", and nobody speaks to anyone. For once people don't want to know which country I'm from, how old I am, what I do for a living, how many children I have, how long I'm staying.
On the crowded bus from Chaudi to Karwar no one moved over to make space for me to sit down, and on the return I watched at every stop as people scrambled aboard and chose where to sit, subtly avoiding the seat next to mine. The place remained unoccupied for the 90 minute ride.
But I guess I'm guilty of similar when I get on the Number 1 from Matson into Gloucester.
So yesterday I took myself to the beach to hang out with the strays in the sun.
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