I have heard your requests and will begin to focus on the great things about India... after this post.
These are the strategies I have learned from observing beggars and touts in India.
- In rural Uganda, beggars are generally children repeating ‘some money, some money please’ or ‘mzungu give me money’. If you reply “no, you give ME money!” They generally giggle and leave you alone. It’s mildly annoying at worst. But here in urban India, begging is high-intensity. These beggars have no sense of humor and never smile, just vacillate between a look of eternal suffering and a look of scornful ‘how dare you pass me by?’ They don’t bother trying to speak English. They just point at whatever their personal guilt-and-shame inducing device is (leg in a brace –come on, couldn’t you have cut it off for realism?-, infant being used as a prop, etc.) and then hold out their hand. Then they put their hand to their mouth and make a sign for ‘eat’, then hold out their hand. It’s painful for everyone involved. What kind of psychological impact does growing up doing that all day have? If I sound cynical, which I must, I can promise you I didn't start off that way and the continuous onslaught of beggars over time has brought it on.
- There are little children selling postcards, and they will say ‘promise you will not buy from anyone else! Meet me here after going inside!” And the first time I heard this, I relievedly said “OK! I definitely won’t!” But then I came back out and the child looked at me like I killed his puppy, and the guide said to me “you must buy. You promised.” Don’t these people understand semantics?! This would never stand up in court.
- Hated technique #1: the seller involves you in a conversation about where you are from that is much more pleasant than the harassment of a moment before. They ask you what you do for a job. If you say doctor, it is a huge mistake because doctors have money, and trying to explain about residency and student loans is lost on hawkers (which my driver says “hookers”… hm. ) I specifically noticed after telling my guide that I was a doctor, he would say something to the hawker when I asked the price of something and the price would be very high – yes, I confess, I did buy one thing from a hawker! That guide did not get a tip from me, and now I am saying I’m a ‘student’, which does not make hawkers smile.
- Clearly, most people in the world who have any street sense do not chat with hawkers, they simply ignore them, or say “get out of my face’ or ‘leave me alone’ or something. However, I have realized that my brain is wired as a small-town girl and that’s very hard to unwire. When someone says, “hello, where are you from?” and smiles at me, I instinctively say “I’m from the USA!” and smile back like a fool. I also noticed that although my guidebook suggested that I adopt the local greeting “Namaste” (delivered with hands clasped together like a prayer) to avoid being a rude American, I decided to do so only to discover that the handshake reflex is in my American genes. When I meet someone new, it’s like Roger Rabbit hearing ‘shave and a haircut…’ – I think “Namaste! Prayer hands!” but my hand uncontrollably shoots out and I loudly say “Hi there! Nice to meetcha!”
- Final technique is just to create the most severe annoyance possible. This one boy who looked about 10 years old must have thrust a bunch of cheap bracelets in my face a hundred times as I walked around the ruins of an old fort. He was so persistent, keeping an auctioneer’s patter going “5 for 100, good price, I give you, only 100 rupees, cheap for you, you buy from me, you must buy, 5 for 50 rupees, I must sell this morning, good luck for me, please help me and buy something from me, I need to sell something, 5 for 20 rupees, only 20, nothing to you, it is nothing!” He was getting as close to me as possible, so as my guide walked forward in a straight line, I was veering sharply off to the side and had to perform defensive maneuvers to get back on track numerous times. I showered him with “no thank yous”, and also tried telling him several times “listen, I get what you’re saying, but it doesn’t matter what the price is, I don’t want this stuff! I’m sympathetic to you needing to sell something, but I don’t want to buy this!” This of course was ineffective. Towards the end, he just kept repeating “please, you buy something, just one thing, then I go. Just buy something and I leave you alone.” This was starting to actually sound like a good deal, but there were a number of factors to consider – he could be lying, and would redouble his efforts if shown money. If I paid him to get away from me, it would encourage him to use the same tactic again. What if he was a child slave owned by a cruel master who would chop off his finger tonight, and that’s why he was so desperate? This decision was complicated by the fact that he really looked like he was about to either cry or throw a temper tantrum. And he was just a child. My guide resolved this by grabbing the kid by the shoulders, looking at me and saying “do you want this stuff?” I said “no” and the guide yelled something in Hindi and practically tossed the boy across the courtyard.
- Such is the experience of visiting tourist destinations in India. Serenity, now…
These are the strategies I have learned from observing beggars and touts in India.
- In rural Uganda, beggars are generally children repeating ‘some money, some money please’ or ‘mzungu give me money’. If you reply “no, you give ME money!” They generally giggle and leave you alone. It’s mildly annoying at worst. But here in urban India, begging is high-intensity. These beggars have no sense of humor and never smile, just vacillate between a look of eternal suffering and a look of scornful ‘how dare you pass me by?’ They don’t bother trying to speak English. They just point at whatever their personal guilt-and-shame inducing device is (leg in a brace –come on, couldn’t you have cut it off for realism?-, infant being used as a prop, etc.) and then hold out their hand. Then they put their hand to their mouth and make a sign for ‘eat’, then hold out their hand. It’s painful for everyone involved. What kind of psychological impact does growing up doing that all day have? If I sound cynical, which I must, I can promise you I didn't start off that way and the continuous onslaught of beggars over time has brought it on.
- There are little children selling postcards, and they will say ‘promise you will not buy from anyone else! Meet me here after going inside!” And the first time I heard this, I relievedly said “OK! I definitely won’t!” But then I came back out and the child looked at me like I killed his puppy, and the guide said to me “you must buy. You promised.” Don’t these people understand semantics?! This would never stand up in court.
- Hated technique #1: the seller involves you in a conversation about where you are from that is much more pleasant than the harassment of a moment before. They ask you what you do for a job. If you say doctor, it is a huge mistake because doctors have money, and trying to explain about residency and student loans is lost on hawkers (which my driver says “hookers”… hm. ) I specifically noticed after telling my guide that I was a doctor, he would say something to the hawker when I asked the price of something and the price would be very high – yes, I confess, I did buy one thing from a hawker! That guide did not get a tip from me, and now I am saying I’m a ‘student’, which does not make hawkers smile.
- Clearly, most people in the world who have any street sense do not chat with hawkers, they simply ignore them, or say “get out of my face’ or ‘leave me alone’ or something. However, I have realized that my brain is wired as a small-town girl and that’s very hard to unwire. When someone says, “hello, where are you from?” and smiles at me, I instinctively say “I’m from the USA!” and smile back like a fool. I also noticed that although my guidebook suggested that I adopt the local greeting “Namaste” (delivered with hands clasped together like a prayer) to avoid being a rude American, I decided to do so only to discover that the handshake reflex is in my American genes. When I meet someone new, it’s like Roger Rabbit hearing ‘shave and a haircut…’ – I think “Namaste! Prayer hands!” but my hand uncontrollably shoots out and I loudly say “Hi there! Nice to meetcha!”
- Final technique is just to create the most severe annoyance possible. This one boy who looked about 10 years old must have thrust a bunch of cheap bracelets in my face a hundred times as I walked around the ruins of an old fort. He was so persistent, keeping an auctioneer’s patter going “5 for 100, good price, I give you, only 100 rupees, cheap for you, you buy from me, you must buy, 5 for 50 rupees, I must sell this morning, good luck for me, please help me and buy something from me, I need to sell something, 5 for 20 rupees, only 20, nothing to you, it is nothing!” He was getting as close to me as possible, so as my guide walked forward in a straight line, I was veering sharply off to the side and had to perform defensive maneuvers to get back on track numerous times. I showered him with “no thank yous”, and also tried telling him several times “listen, I get what you’re saying, but it doesn’t matter what the price is, I don’t want this stuff! I’m sympathetic to you needing to sell something, but I don’t want to buy this!” This of course was ineffective. Towards the end, he just kept repeating “please, you buy something, just one thing, then I go. Just buy something and I leave you alone.” This was starting to actually sound like a good deal, but there were a number of factors to consider – he could be lying, and would redouble his efforts if shown money. If I paid him to get away from me, it would encourage him to use the same tactic again. What if he was a child slave owned by a cruel master who would chop off his finger tonight, and that’s why he was so desperate? This decision was complicated by the fact that he really looked like he was about to either cry or throw a temper tantrum. And he was just a child. My guide resolved this by grabbing the kid by the shoulders, looking at me and saying “do you want this stuff?” I said “no” and the guide yelled something in Hindi and practically tossed the boy across the courtyard.
- Such is the experience of visiting tourist destinations in India. Serenity, now…
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