Incredible India - Incredible Guide

We are nearing the end of our Incredible India tour... and still, each day is saturating us with new people, smells, sounds and taste. This morning we are staying in a small 17th century fort in a small agricultural village... some 60 klms south of Jaipur.

We awakened to find ourselves surrounded by temples... one is traditional Hindi... one is of the Jain faith (a sect of Hindi)... and one is of the Sikh faith. The Muslims started the day at 5:50 with the call to prayer... but on the hour they were silent in their prayers... leaving the airwaves free for the Hindi worshippers. I have been surprised at the level of enthusiasm displayed in Hindi worship... today, it was the three temples having a shout-out to have their chants heard above the others.

The Sikhs are at a disadvantage... there are no Sikh worshippers living in the village. However, the village is very important to the Sikhs because one of their nine prophets wrote some holy text while in the village... and the Jaipur Sikhs have built a temple to commemorate the event. This temple is used by Pilgrims and travellers... under the guidance of an 80 year old priest... with one of the finest faces you could hope to see... uncut hair and beard... aging lines bringing character to his face... hinting at the wisdom he has accumulated in his long life.

It is now 7:45 am and all the worshipping has completed... peace! The men are bringing their herds of goats out of the enclosure to be taken to pasture... the same routine followed every day. On bright sunny warm days like today, the shepherd's life has some appeal. When scorching hot... or cold and raining... the romance would quickly fade. We have seen shepherds watching their herd of goats... along the roadway... leaning on their staff and talking into their mobile phone... progress unfolds in unexpected steps. Motorbikes and mobile phones are the technologies having most impact in the villages.

Our Peregrine guide is a mystery. He shares ownership with his brother in a farm of 100 hectares in Rajasthan. He went to a good school and seems to be part of a network amongst the wealthy and privileged... he probably belongs to a top rating caste... we have seen a couple of people attempt to touch his feet... as a form of greeting. At each location we have visited, our guide is welcomed by the hotel owners as a long-lost brother... I suspect he is related to half of them. I suspect he has designed the tour format we are following... and taken it to Peregrine as some type of franchised business opportunity... who knows. He has no difficulty in dealing with conflicting requests from his bus load of tourists... he clearly has a background where his instructions are obeyed... and his tour group is used to doing what they are told... with some notable exceptions.

Our guide maintains our affections by giving us food treats during the days of long drives... but more importantly, keeps our spirits high with a liberal supply of rum and coke. Yesterday was a long day for driving... he was topping-up our glasses at 10:30 AM. The combination of alcohol... close proximity of the people on the bus... and some stretches of road with repetitive scenery... has lead to periods of community singing... excessive chattering... and telling tales of heroic deeds. We usually arrive at our next camp without suffering boredom or pains... unaware of the long period of the drive... all very happy. The only cost is a hangover in the evenings after our long journey.

Bus dynamics are always interesting. We have the essential 'princess' who is always last on the bus... who needs the best seat so that she can stretch out her sore leg... who keeps us waiting at every check point. From experience, we have learned that every group must have a princess... and this knowledge helps reduce the frustration level. Our leader has been saintly in providing the extra attention demanded by our princess. However, after dinner last night, he showed some fraility... in reacting to a criticism from the princess... let's hope he manages to last out one more day. Knowing our leader is struggling to remain saintly in the face of extra demands of the princess somehow makes it easier for the rest of us to handle. I'm sure we have all been much more companionable with each other as a method of coping with the princess.

Update
We have arrived back at Delhi at the completion of the tour... we have a final dinner tonight... where we will all promise to stay in touch... and have a reunion in 12 months time... you have all been through similar shows of group love and affection. No one remembers to set the date or location of the reunion... and the good intentions become overwhelmed with the complexities of our daily lives. Perhaps this group will follow through... our Surrey Walking Ladies group kept faith with a most enjoyable reunion.

This tour has been magnificent... primarily because of the opportunity to see village life at such short distance. This last 14 days have thrown up such wonderful stories... that we must share before they are forgotten.

Incredible India - Opium and the Vishnois Tribe

Today, we had a Jeep safari... riding out from Jodhpor... to visit some hamlets... and meet some of the colourful people in the region. The Jeep was of WWII heritage... plenty of play in the steerage... clutch was no substitute for crunching the gears... and the horn had to be 'hot wired' each time you wanted to give verbal communication to other drivers... we didn't make much use of the horn.

The morning was full of interest... we visited a Muslim family who specialised in pottery... and our final stop was at a family of rug weavers... more importantly, the householder has organised a cooperative of cottages by providing the marketing and export expertise for home weaved rugs. But the most intriguing stop was at a compound run by Vishnois people... who consume a drink based on Opium.

The government allows this ethnic group to continue their customs of drinking Opium. It is consumed only by the men... and addiction is a problem. Upon arrival, we were struck by the tidyness of the compound... it had all been recently swept... no dogs or cows hanging around... all the rubbish piled up out of sight. The family consisted of the landowner and wife, two sons and their wives. While we were there, the daughters-in-law were doing all the work. This tribe is noted for protecting their land... allowing no hunting or tree cutting... they are vegetarian... and make meals from the seeds of acacia trees and other available legumes.

The householder came out with his Opium drinking gear... laid out a mat and started a ritual to bless the equipment. The Opium is purchased in a satchel... soaked in water... and filtered through cotton cloth. The householder rinsed his hands with water... then poured the mixture into his cupped hand. Our guide and the other driver then sipped the drink from the owner's hand... while holding one hand above their head. The unusual ritual displays respect for the householder.

We were then invited to cup our hand... into which the owner poured some drink... I guess he knew from previous experience that not many tourists would risk the health exposure of drinking from his hand... we had not washed our own hand... so the less risky format still gave bacteria an easy ride to the stomach. We were told by nurses in our group that the Opium concentration offered to us... and taking the substance into the stomach... meant that very little opiate would enter our bloodstream.

After our token sip, the locals got stuck into more serious consumption. Those drinking included both our drivers... a circumstance that did not escape the notice of our group. When the householder wanted a drink, our driver would rinse his hands and provide the owner with his hand for a cup. The owner had the appearance of someone who had engaged in this practice quite often. The trio took another satchel and drank another serving.

At our final stop (at the rug weaver), our guide (who was driving for today) had a snooze in the shade... and set his phone alarm for 20 minutes... so was on his feet at the time of our departure. We all jumped into the Jeep and headed back to town. Our driver turned on the radio so we could hear some Hindi music... but the volume was too loud. The volume dial was located in the glove box... and the glove box was locked. Our driver forgot he was driving... pulled the keys of of the ignition... to unlock the glove box... who would have thought? In focusing on the glove box, he took his eye off the road... and sent us heading towards the gutter! We screeched to a stop... as much as an old Jeep can screech ... and looked at the surprised expression on the face of our driver. Our unflappable friend completed the task of adjusting the volume of the radio... and checked with us that the volume was to our liking... before recommencing of journey back into town.

We were all relieved to arrive safely back in the hotel.

Just a word of advice from experience. Next time you are visiting an Opium den... ask your driver to avoid supping from the second satchel... and don't let him take the keys of of the ignition while the vehicle is in motion... even if the volume control of the radio is locked inside the glove box.

Incredible India - Mountains and its People

Yesterday, we took the mountain road from Bijaipur to Dera Khairwa and saw another face of Indian people. The mountains are part of an extremely old range... so were not offering towering heights or dramatic valleys. A large part of India belongs to the ancient continent of Gondwanaland... of which Australia was a part... and the mountains looked like the low ranges we see on the west coast of our country. Fascination did not come from the landscape... but once again came from the people.

Let's go on a travelogue along one out the most 'remote' parts of Rajasthan. Remote is a relative term... During our 5 hour drive, we passed villages accommodating at least 250,000... but for India... that is remote.

Our first 'stumbled upon' feature was a market being used by the nomadic people to rebalance their sheep and goat herds as they progressed towards their winter pastures. At the top of a steep climb, we looked down on a large field... almost hidden from view... to see about 20 men with brightly covered turbans ... and any other couple of hundred animals being mustered in a sales-yard fashion. No village was in sight... the nomads had chosen a location to do their commerce without interruption. I was surprised to see the numbers of nomads. They are quickly reducing in numbers... but there are still plenty of them. In the countryside, the bright coloured turbans of the men make them easily identifiable. They tie their turbans in a different fashion to other people... much more flamboyant!

We passed a couple of water-wells where oxen were being used to lift water up 50 meters from the well to the irrigation canals. Rajasthan has received good rains this year... and the level of the watertable has risen... the lakes appear to be nearly full... and the crops look green and healthy. Our driver found one well located where he could safely get off the narrow road... and we all (8 of us) clammered down the slope to the well and introduced ourselves to the landowner. He was only too happy to give us our photo opportunity. It was surprising how much water the string of buckets could lift in a short time. The holy cows doing the heavy lifting had plenty of time to contemplate things spiritual and mystic... as they went round-and-round. I find it confusing how a Holy animal can be pushed to do demeaning work... or left to eat cardboard to survive in its declining years... but there are lots of circumstances in India that are difficult to understand. This farmer lives off a small plot of land that is growing wheat. He needed to tend the crop carefully to get enough food for the summer.

Our next point of interest was passing the local women on the road carrying bundles of sticks on their heads. Men cut down dead limbs or fallen trees... the women carry the sticks long distances into the next village and sell their load... door-to-door. A load of sticks usually sells for 100 rupees... about $2... not bad for a day's work. Some of the men climbing trees to cut branches carried chainsaws... and some of the trees had been denuded within an inch of their lives. I assume the men doing the trimming are experienced and leave enough leaf for the tree to survive.

Our scheduled stop for the morning was a magnificent temple belonging to the Jain sect of the Hindu religion. The temple is located in an area abundant in marble... and the architect took full advantage of the resource. Each column... each surface... has been intricately carved. Non-practicing Jains were not allowed into the inner sanctuary that houses the particular god for the temple. Excuse my not remembering which god it was... there are 3 million of them and the more popular gods have nick-names and different regional names.

You may wonder how gods come into being. We had an example shown to us today. At a corner of the road, we came across crowds of people milling around a tiny structure. Our guide invited us to get out of the bus for a look. The people were stopping to gain good luck from a shrine built by a father to his son... only some 20 years ago. The son was riding a motorbike that crashed into a lorry... resulting in his death. The police tidied up the crash scene and took the bike back to the police station. Mysteriously, the bike disappeared... only to be discovered back at the crash site. The police again took the bike back to the station... only to have it mysteriously return to the cash site. It was left there. One night shortly thereafter, a lorry driver had a flat tyre at that same crash site. He had no money to buy a new tyre. Out of the dark, a young man emerged offering to loan the money to the lorry driver, saying "After your trip return here to repay the money. If I am not here, repay the money to my father"... and he gave him the address. After the trip the lorry driver came to the father's house to repay the money." How could you borrow money from my son... he has been recently killed at a road accident just out of town ". The father was amazed to learn of the incident... and erected the small shrine on that site. Many people now claim to see premonitions when driving past. Thousands of believers visit the site each week... hoping to gain good fortune for themselves and relatives who have recently deceased. In a couple of decades, this young man may well become another of the 3 million gods.

Another 'stumbled-upon' event was passing a nomadic clan moving house to their winter pastures. They will stay there until the first of the monsoonal rains... when they will make the reverse trip to their summer pastures. Chickens, baby goats, tents... all their belongings were stacked up on the camel wagons. The young children were herding the goats and sheep along the road. It looked like a tough life.

The place we slept last night was in a village unaccustomed to tourists. We were welcomed like royalty as we wandered around the village at sunset. Usually it is only the kids who ask to have their photos taken... but in this village, all the folks wanted to be in the picture. We managed to get some special shots of the older citizens with faces marked with many years of scorching summers... their faces seemed to tell the stories.

Incredible India - Population

Incredible India... no less incredible because of the population density. We are in Rajastan... that has a population exceeding 66 million. Geographically, Rajastan is about the same size as New South Wales... and (as you know) NSW has population of approximately 7 million people... Rajastan has roughly ten times the density of people compared to NSW.

So, in Australia, when you expect to see one person getting out of a car, in Rajastan you will see 10. If you expect to see two people sitting in a van... here, you will see 20. When you expect to see a team of 5 people filling a hole in the road, Rajastan will provide will provide 50...you get the drift.

This numeric relationship was reinforced this afternoon. We had left for our day's outing with my hotel room key in my pocket. As a result, our room was not serviced. Upon our return, we realised our mistake and asked for the service. Instead of one person coming to tidy or room, we had a team of five come to the room... one with a mop... one with a duster... one with a towel to look at the bathroom... one with clean bed linen... and of course a supervisor. Indian industry at its best!

At the risk of stereotyping, here is advice for those of you thinking of employing an Indian for your business or home services.

Employment Recommendations
Child Care
As a general rule, Indian parents show skills that are 'above average'. Children appear to be happy and well behaved... compared with other national communities.

Gardeners
We have seen iridescent green fields in the middle of barren country. We have seen men and women searching for weeds... crouched so close to the ground they appear to be using magnifying glasses in their search. We have seen women standing in the fields ready to chase away any bird that even thinks about landing near the crop. We have seen farmers gazing over their crop with a satisfied look... this has been a good year for rain in Rajastan.

Motor Vehicle Drivers
In impossible conditions, Indian drivers get through traffic jams... swerve around potholes... avoid wayward cattle... and still keep to their timetable. Most of the vehicles show signs of damage... but I think most of the damage was done in World War One. Drivers of new cars cope with chaos with gleaming duco intact.

Employment that is Not Recommended:
Municipal Town Planner
The availability of public toilets, parks, car parks, level streets, kerb and guttering... is somewhat limited in India.

Municipal Garbage Collection
Smaller villages may be the exception... but city folk drop their plastic bag full of garbage anywhere on the street. The cows head straight for new drop-offs... and eat anything that is green. We have seen cows eating cardboard. After the cows have had a go... the pigs roll up to recycle the protein garbage. After the pigs, the dogs will have a sniff. After dark, the rest is left for the rats. I suspect the staple diet for the dogs are rats.

After a few days, the pile of rubbish is reduced to plastics, bones and metal. The general practice appears to be... leave the residue on the street to be covered by the next layer of rubbish.
As you would expect, Indian men have prime responsibility for World peace... a responsibility taken very seriously... with hours spent in group analysis over a cup of tea... and interdispursed with a game of cards every now and then. These men can be idling away time standing next to piles of plastic. Ten minutes labour would make a tremendous difference to the health and appearance of the street. India needs a version of Ian Kiernan to get everyone to pick-up after themselves.

Police Road Officers
Indians have no experience in this profession... we have not seen any to date. We watched today when army officers became gridlocked in a traffic jam. They abandoned their vehicle, walked to the front of the gridlock and started pointing with their batons. The locals did not take the slightest bit of notice... and kept waiting for the next guy to concede ground to clear the bottleneck. Eventually, traffic flowed again... through the magic of Indian problem solving... no one took control... everyone conceded just a tiny little bit of ground... the problem took far too long to solve... but everyone went away feeling satisfied that their rights and status had been observed.

But the overwhelming advice is... employ an Indian because they are fun people... ready to laugh at your lame jokes... and skilled at making you laugh.

Incredible India - Maharajah and Good Politics

We are on a group tour... so we cannot schedule sufficient personal time to properly document all that is happening.
Village India is an eye-opener! Peregrine (our tour organiser) has done a great job (so far) in contrasting the dynamics of village life with that in the cities. Our guide (Shailendra) owns a farm in Rajastan... so is quite familiar with seeing behind the obvious behaviours of village life and can explain to us what is happening.

With little control over our time, some of these reports will be brief... an example of which is today's meager effort.

Large parts of Rajastan were conquered by the Mongol empire that entered India from Afghanistan in the 10th century. What followed was a century of continuous conflict as the Mongols took over the separate Indian states... one by one. The Mongols had no particular military advantage... they won power by better politics... playing off the divided quarrelling Indian states... one against the other. During this period, each state focused on defense... built themselves new huge castles located on hillsides that offered excellent defense.

In those days, labour was cheap... life was cheap. Labourers building castles worked just for board and keep... goodness knows how workers' wives and children got by. The Mongols used excellent political skills in designing their buildings... as well as other aspects of occupation. The first Maharajah out of Afghanistan was a Muslim... and he had three wives... one a Muslim, one a Hindu and one a Christian... thereby uniting nearly all of India under his rule. This practice of multi-denominational wives was followed by his sons and many of the Hindu Maharajah in other states. The first Maharaja built separate wings within his Palace for each of his wives and used different architectural styles within separate wings to reflect the religion of the occupying Queen. India gained is own unique architectural style by taking the best from the Mongols (dominated by Persian motifs), old Indian styles and the more recently introduced styles of architecture from the Portuguese (in Goa - southern India).

We saw a deserted Palace at Fatehpur Sikri that was built in just four years... and occupied for just four years. The Maharaja was not the most frugal of rulers when it came to his own comfort. He walked away from his multimillion dollar castle because climate change had wiped out his water supply... and because his strongest enemy had built a huge castle two or three day's march away. He wasn't concerned about his financial loss... he marched down to Agra and built a bigger and better Palace there.

There were many amusing aspects to the palaces of the first Maharaja... but one of the best was the snakes and ladders game he used to select the concubine with whom he would spend the day. One of his three queens would have the task of selecting a dozen of the prettiest girls from the harem. She and the Maharaja would sit on a raised dias in the middle of a square. The square had tiles set out in a pattern... most tiles were unmarked... but some were marked with a cross. The competing concubines started at the corners of the square. The Queen would roll one dice.. and the Maharaja would roll another ... the total of the two numbers shown on the dice indicated the dancing path to be taken by the concubine. If her progress resulted in her ending on a tile marked with a cross... she would no longer be able to participate in the game. The last concubine in the game ended up spending time with the Maharaja. Of course, all this dancing took toll of one's freshness... so the Maharaja had two baths built in the entrance to his private quarters... each bath filled with rose water... one bath for the Queens to use whenever they visited him... and one for the concubines. So, next time you pay snakes and ladders... remember the origins of the game... and if that thought makes you hot and sweaty... go take a bath in rose water.

Incredible India - Incredible any Time... any Where

You can travel most places on Earth without having your basic values being challenged... but a few days in India will have you questioning every concepts of happiness... law and order... modesty and faith. And when you think you have it all figured out... another circumstance will confront your senses to have you scratching your head and starting once again to try to make sense of it all.

Let's take a few alternative theories that our early Indian experience suggests:

Happiness
Let's test this hypothesis... Indian people are happier than Australians.  Take a simple measure of happiness... the count of people with smiles on their faces. The tourist hotspots of India collect many people who are not representative of the country. The street merchants... the beggars... the tuktuk drivers... are often people in transition who have abandoned traditional practices in search of some 'get-rich-quick' opportunity. Generally, they are as confused as the tourists in understanding what is going on.

Those of you who have toured the villages still unspoilt by tourism will see a lot of physical hardship... but you will also have seen a lot of happy people. Last night... on the way back from visiting the old palace at Karauli, we were sitting on a cart pulled by a camel. We were brushing past people... close to their place of work... close to the doors of their houses. Nearly every eye we made contact with, offered us some type of welcome... the kids waving with excitement... the young men giving us a nod. We were adding to the congestion of their narrow streets... and we were expecting some signs of exasperation... not a bit of it... they were happy to have us visit.

From my untrained observations, Indian villages don't have great variations in wealth between its citizens... all the rich people go to the cities. Perhaps, villages are happier because the large majority of village folk experience similar levels of wealth... we may despair at how little they have... but they are happy because they see life treating them fairly... and they feel connected to their community. Perhaps, Australia would be a happier place with a reduction in difference between the incomes of the rich and poor.

Law and Order
We have driven for two days... covered about 600 klms. In that time, we have seen one police car... and it was in a garage having tyres replaced. We have been driving 6 hours each day on roads that appear to be completely chaotic. Pigs, cattle and dogs wandering across national highways... holding up peak hour traffic... oncoming traffic swerving into our lane to overtake, or avoid a pot-hole... broken down vehicles left in the middle of the road... and from the size of the camp built by the vehicle's driver... the accident must have happened a week ago. Animals, pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes, car and trucks of all sizes share a congested roadway... that is little more than a perpetual string of potholes, incomplete bridges, no lane markings and no signs to help drivers navigate the complex network of roads.

Lack of policing, lack of good infrastructure, poor vehicles, over-congestion of roads, half the drivers appearing to be under-aged.... gives everyone an excuse to do whatever they would like to do on the road. And yet, the fatality rate per capita on Indian roads compares favourably with Australia's experience. People expect ridiculous circumstances to confront them at any moment... and take appropriate precautions.

We saw one-thousand near accidents... but only one minor event. Watching the road ahead, I saw the sacred cows crossing the road. A swarm of motorbikes peeled their way around the obstacle. One of the cows lost concentration... and suddenly turned back. There was a screech brakes from the bike most affected by the cow's erratic behaviour. Rather than hit the sacred cow, he slid his bike onto the road... and just as he was coming to a stop, the bike hit a pothole that caused the rider to be thrown in the air... and he landed on his shoulder. The cow was untouched... the herd continued meandering across the road. The man stood up and started to wipe the dust of the road off his clothes. Every vehicle (including our bus) stopped... to check the welfare of the rider... to take his bike off the road... and to take him to the next village. No sirens... no flashing lights... no ambulance... no insurance paperwork. That is how India works!

Arguably, civilisation does not need complex laws... battalions of police to apply the law... bevies of lawyers to argue the law... and hundreds of politicians to plug the holes in existing laws. Arguably, there are alternatives to our litigious way of relating the person to their community.

Faith and Welfare
Last night we attended the 5.30 pm service at the Hindu temple at the old palace in Karauli. This service is held eight times each day... every day... because this temple is a special place of pilgrimage. The purpose of the service is to rejoice in the blessings given by the god... the son of Krishna.

The locals flooded into the temple... started singing... some prostrating themselves on the floor... singing and waving their arms in hypnotic ecstasy. After a while, the clergy came out and threw holy water in the direction of the congregation. A number of hymns were sung... a number of different parts of the temple were used for different parts of the service... all this happening without leadership from the clergy or anyone in the congregation. After a time, the men sat down for a breather... while the women sat in a circle and sang more holy songs... all with no visible leadership. We were invited to join in the celebrations... but joining in would have made us look more silly... so we opted to just gork.

In incredible India, I found the enthusiasm of the congregation incredible! Such energy... such happiness... such lack of self-awareness... such devotion. I guess Christian services may have had the same energy before  becoming laden with ritual and hierarchy. Religion for these Hindi was all about showing their gods how they felt... not about listening to a cleric tell them how to behave.

One last comment. We are seeing India before cigarettes and before carbohydrates. Some 5% of the men smoke... we have yet to see a woman smoking. Only some 5% of the population are overweight... we have yet to see an obese person. No doubt, in another decade, this favourable health issue may have changed.

Delhi - So Complicated

We have been in Delhi for 24 hours... so feel unable to offer any insights into the confusing mass of humanity we see outside the hotel window. I'm sure the locals, familiar with the customs, can see order and structure in the street activity. They can identify the different castes... know who has right-of-way... know when to take risks... know when to stop for a chat... and where you can trust the street food. Hopefully, we will acquire those skills and interpret what is happening on the street.

Our hotel is away from the tourist area of Delhi... right next to a busy street market specialising in garments of all types... for locals who do not have high income. Winter is approaching... and the fastest moving sales items are jackets. A couple of traders have had bus boxes of jackets placed on the street... cut them open... so the locals can rifle through the pile to find the item that best suits them. The quality would not be to your liking... but the prices are very low. At the other end of the price spectrum... you can acquire the garb of a maharishi... gold braiding enough to make you blind... epaulettes to make a weakling have shoulders like a wrestler... just the thing to make you stand out from the crowd next time you are shopping at Chastwood Chase.

From what we have seen to date, Delhi is a male dominated society. Driving in from the airport yesterday, we saw no female drivers... and next to no female passengers. We were pleased with our decision to forego the pleasures of driving in India... the roads are more chaotic than Rome... but somehow, less terrifying. Most of the vehicles were old enough to vote... but newer vehicles displayed dent-free duco... amazing but true.
The fastest lane of motor traffic was the footpath... at one point there were lane markings on the road... we counted 4 lanes... and at that time the cars were 8 abreast.
At first, we interpreted the incessant honking of horns as displays of frustration. But I'm sure the trained ear can interpret more meaning from the cacophony. Many of the honks are saying, "be aware that I'm moving into your personal space". We also heard one short toot that was saying, "Thank you" for creating space. We saw people using the footings of bridge pylons as beds... with cars on the lower roads honking away only inches from their head. We saw the side of the road being used as one continuous public toilet. We saw street vendors offering many types of goods for purchase... and our driver quickly locking the doors upon their first appearance. This is one aspect of India... not its most glamorous... but an aspect not to be missed... a picture of people living with poor infrastructure... yet, getting on with their lives... managing to find things to smile about... showing respect and tolerance for each other.

Walking through the markets... the safest place was down the middle of the street. The sidewalk was full of holes to provide permanent access to utility services... and blocked by vendors who thought it unnecessary to acquire a shop from which to run their business. Those who did invest in real shops all thought it necessary to employ a guard for their premises... usually, a man of such small size that he was most useful in opening the door for possible purchasers... the guard is probably a family relative who is having difficulty in finding alternative employment. The person who looks most unhappy is usually the business owner. Our experience was that sales staff were courteous and helpful. When we had decided upon a purchase, we were directed to the owner to make the payment. This person invariably portrayed the air of someone who was terribly busy... too busy to be interrupted by a nuisance customer wanting to make a payment. I guess that a proprietor would hate to be seen by his neighbouring trader to be over-kean in collecting money.... it may appear to be a sign of desperation... and once seen as desperate, you lose negotiating power. I suspect it takes years of practice to perfect such an indolent air.

We have had our briefing for the 14-day tour. The guide looks to be good... a critical component for happy group tours.