The Spirit of the World ( On and Off)
The Best Face of India and A Story
This kind man who stopped long enough to smile for my camera represents the India I love. On the other hand, the following story is about my driver who embodied India's past.
He was a smallish man who wore western shirts and pants- a rather non-descript man who was polite, but in a restrained manner. His smiles were rarely spontaneous. He was my driver for most of my journey in India, but our conversations were always limited.
My uneasy feeling about our interaction began when I asked him to stop for picture taking. He looked quite annoyed as if I was intruding on his trip. Day by day, I tried to unravel the mystery behind this man.
In Agra, we had plans for him to pick me up at 5:30 AM so I would be first in line to see the Taj Mahal. He was a no show. Luckily, there was a tuk-tuk outside and I went with that driver. My driver never truly apologized.
The day came for us to go to Ranthambore Park. I was to go by train and he would drive to the park. While in the park, I would be with a safari driver. As the time was drawing near for me to be dropped off at the train station, I began to question this arrangement.
The road to the park was very rough he said and I would be uncomfortable if I rode with him. I pressed on with the conversation and learned that he planned to come with my luggage two days after I arrived. WHAT?????? I needed a change of clothes and other items. One gets very very dusty on safari. To add to the absurdity of the arrangement, he then suggested that I unpack and pack again and take one suitcase on the train. How even more inconvenient, I thought.
The plans sounded more unmanageable, the more we spoke. I finally won the battle and rode with him to the park. The road was rough and the scenery dismal, but I arrived with my clothes and luggage. I have no idea how he spent his days off.
At the Thar Desert, he had more free time. I used the enthusiastic young hotel men to arrange my photo excursions. Another knowledgable guide provided a wonderful tour of Jaisalmer.
We travelled on to the Jawai Wildlife Reserve, where he stayed in the property owner’s home. I didn’t see him for several days and enjoyed myself with the young guide and spotter.
The last stop on what was truly a great itinerary was Udaipur, the “fairy-take” city of India. I had been there before, but was looking forward to experiencing its beauty one more time. As we headed out, he asked me if I knew of the caste system in India. He followed by proclaiming proudly that he was a Brahmin. I nodded my approval in an attempt to be polite while my mind was processing other thoughts. Now it became clear. He is a member of the highest caste in India and I undoubtedly was a human who was beneath him.
We drove along though an area where monkeys were playing by the side of the road. He became very annoyed and they sensed it. They began to try to beat on the car but then they were beneath him too.
His agitation was at a high point as we reached lovely Udaipur. I saw the time and I knew when my plane was leaving for Mumbai in five hours. I had time to sight-see. I wonder where he would take me.
Soon, it was becoming clear that he didn’t want to take me anywhere. He reluctantly drove to a few areas I hadn’t seen, but became even more enraged when he ran out of places to show me. He finally demanded that I take the ferryboat on the lake to kill time while he waited for me.
Finally, it was show down time. It was still not time to take me to the airport. I asked him to call his supervisor and he did. Soon a very tall, good- looking smiling young gentleman arrived and escorted me for the rest of the time. I even bought him lunch.
My great tour company respectfully took a critique of my trip when I returned home. During my discussion with my contact, I learned that the driver was rather new to the company and had previously been a long haul truck driver. Now the entire picture of this driver came into full view. He had contacts along the way he wanted to spend time with. I was a mere nuisance and an untouchable one at that.
The Best Face of India and A Story
This kind man who stopped long enough to smile for my camera represents the India I love. On the other hand, the following story is about my driver who embodied India's past.
He was a smallish man who wore western shirts and pants- a rather non-descript man who was polite, but in a restrained manner. His smiles were rarely spontaneous. He was my driver for most of my journey in India, but our conversations were always limited.
My uneasy feeling about our interaction began when I asked him to stop for picture taking. He looked quite annoyed as if I was intruding on his trip. Day by day, I tried to unravel the mystery behind this man.
In Agra, we had plans for him to pick me up at 5:30 AM so I would be first in line to see the Taj Mahal. He was a no show. Luckily, there was a tuk-tuk outside and I went with that driver. My driver never truly apologized.
The day came for us to go to Ranthambore Park. I was to go by train and he would drive to the park. While in the park, I would be with a safari driver. As the time was drawing near for me to be dropped off at the train station, I began to question this arrangement.
The road to the park was very rough he said and I would be uncomfortable if I rode with him. I pressed on with the conversation and learned that he planned to come with my luggage two days after I arrived. WHAT?????? I needed a change of clothes and other items. One gets very very dusty on safari. To add to the absurdity of the arrangement, he then suggested that I unpack and pack again and take one suitcase on the train. How even more inconvenient, I thought.
The plans sounded more unmanageable, the more we spoke. I finally won the battle and rode with him to the park. The road was rough and the scenery dismal, but I arrived with my clothes and luggage. I have no idea how he spent his days off.
At the Thar Desert, he had more free time. I used the enthusiastic young hotel men to arrange my photo excursions. Another knowledgable guide provided a wonderful tour of Jaisalmer.
We travelled on to the Jawai Wildlife Reserve, where he stayed in the property owner’s home. I didn’t see him for several days and enjoyed myself with the young guide and spotter.
The last stop on what was truly a great itinerary was Udaipur, the “fairy-take” city of India. I had been there before, but was looking forward to experiencing its beauty one more time. As we headed out, he asked me if I knew of the caste system in India. He followed by proclaiming proudly that he was a Brahmin. I nodded my approval in an attempt to be polite while my mind was processing other thoughts. Now it became clear. He is a member of the highest caste in India and I undoubtedly was a human who was beneath him.
We drove along though an area where monkeys were playing by the side of the road. He became very annoyed and they sensed it. They began to try to beat on the car but then they were beneath him too.
His agitation was at a high point as we reached lovely Udaipur. I saw the time and I knew when my plane was leaving for Mumbai in five hours. I had time to sight-see. I wonder where he would take me.
Soon, it was becoming clear that he didn’t want to take me anywhere. He reluctantly drove to a few areas I hadn’t seen, but became even more enraged when he ran out of places to show me. He finally demanded that I take the ferryboat on the lake to kill time while he waited for me.
Finally, it was show down time. It was still not time to take me to the airport. I asked him to call his supervisor and he did. Soon a very tall, good- looking smiling young gentleman arrived and escorted me for the rest of the time. I even bought him lunch.
My great tour company respectfully took a critique of my trip when I returned home. During my discussion with my contact, I learned that the driver was rather new to the company and had previously been a long haul truck driver. Now the entire picture of this driver came into full view. He had contacts along the way he wanted to spend time with. I was a mere nuisance and an untouchable one at that.