Hmmmm where to start...
When I first got here one of the first tasks on my list was to get a cell phone. Without it I had no means of calling home and of course this is the first thing that I wanted to do.
Being the dumb traveller that I am I thought 'I don't need to go to the recommended cell phone place - they probably just like that place because its fancy and the white people are snobs...' So I went into a nearby cellphone shop and felt like an adventurous traveller as I proceeded to purchase a phone and cell phone service with these great guys who dont speak english.
They quickly became my phone guys. We have "guys" all over - our veggie wallah guy our coconut guy, our internet hole guys, our travel agent guy, etc. We love our guys. We cling to them as they make us feel like we are known and understood in this big indian city where everyone stares at us like we are crazy white people (we are). I would see my cell phone guys every time I needed to 'recharge'. They were astounded by how often and how many rupees this was. Our conversations were always long and fairly humorous. Lots of head waggling on both ends (yes I am perfecting my head wobble). Lots of smiling as we do not understand eachother. In the beginning when I had lots of questions they would often pull people in off the street to translate for us. They would give me chai in little plastic flouride cups from the street. Getting chai is our sign that we are in like flynn with someone. "guess what - i got chai from the travel agent today!" we would boast. This is kind of ridiculous because anyone that hangs out long enough (especially around chai time at 2 - 3:00) will get offered chai. But again, in our world getting chai makes us feel like we are a part of something and that people actually like us. I accept every chai that is offered which means that sometimes i am jittery and having to use the bathroom much more than desired at the institute. That's how much I like it.
So you get it right - They were my guys.
Were. We had a falling out.
Ill spare you the details of my worst India day. The details are silly and already don't seem worth my reaction. But of course when a person cracks it is not the one thing preceeding that causes it - it was just my state of mind, probably my state of hormones, my intense missing of eve and waiting for her to come, my new bff's being gone for awhile, etc. It is funny how the littlest thing and not being able to communicate with people can make a person feel so helpless, so frustrated! It (and many other things) makes me think of the stresses of being an immigrant. When I get this feeling being a priveleged tourist! Anyway I will bravely say that I actually almost cried with my guys. And we had our falling out because they just smiled and laughed and wobbled when they saw my almost tears and that was it!
But im getting distracted - this was all before the motorcycle ride.
The jist of it is that my cell phone service was cut off for about 5 days and the guys had no idea why. I knew they hadn't done service hook ups for many foreigners, but I didnt think about the consequences of this when I was so boldly being an adventurous traveller. They communicated to me that I should go to the service provider headquarters. They were not able to provide an address or a phone number of this place, just a name of a road. A large, long road. They said the directions that I get so often here "straight." Like this makes everything obvious. Straight where?! I managed to communicate that this was insane (lots of head wobbling and waving of my arms and talking loudly).
They had an answer. A guy would take me there in his car. Except the guy in the car didnt seem that interested in chauffering the weird orangehead around town on his saturday. They had another answer. The bollywood looking guy made the motorcycle vroom vroom motion with his hands and pointed to the other guy and me. I actually smiled and then shook my head no. Ive told you about the traffic. Being out there on a motorcycle is crazy!
But after 15 more minutes with no further progress, when he made the vroom vroom hand action I paused. I did what I do in many situations in which I want to make sure I make a safe decision - I thought "What would emmy do?". (For those of you who don't know Emmy is my sister and she LOVES safety.) I thought about this for awhile. I could not imagine emmy on the back of that motorcycle.
But then I thought about all the things here that I was really glad emmy could not see. When we first got here we were listing all the many ways that we could die in India. Many of them I think I might not have noticed if it weren't for em's influence. Some examples: the traffic, the hotels that have gates to lock in their guests at night from the outside (crazy! havent they heard of fires!?), the way our apartment door can be easily locked from the outside, the telephone wires that catch on the floats, the for real for real fireworks the children yes children set off in traffic, and so on. We quickly realized that we had to stop this exercise and concentrate on living in India.
ANYWAY - I finally broke down and head wobbled my way to the motorcycle. All the women passengers on motorcycles sit side saddle and do not hold on to the man. I KNEW emmy would NOT sit side saddle, and I wouldn't either. I boldly straddled it, and held on to the slight indian man in front of me and tried to relax. And of course like all things dangerous - it was fun!
That was the only fun part though. I failed in getting my service reactivated. Feeling cut off from the world and so sorry for myself I went back to my phone guys to insist on them helping as they messed it up in the first place.
As you can probably imagine, this wasn't very fruitful. It reminded me a little of yelling in the fishmarket in ecuador. (mom you are the only one who will get that reference so hope you read this!) Except I dont speak the language and it didnt turn out well. I dramatically broke up with my phone guys.
In the end I learned my lesson and went to the recommended fancy cellphone place and bought a new simcard and service. I practically hugged and touched the feet of my new phone guy. Who speaks english impeccably and fixed my problem in 2 minutes.
I didn't end up sparing you any of the details. Now I've poured my heart out to you all about my big break up. It is too bad though that I lost my phone guys who have been with me for all this time. I probably won't get chai from the new guy. But at least I can call home and have the stunning memory of my gallant ride around town on the motorcycle!
