The Trouble with Tourists

I read William Sutcliffe's "Are You Experienced?" one night in a delightful reading frenzy. It's a bit racy at times, but captures some of the tourist and traveller vibe on the road in India. And has some hilarious black humor.

The day after I read it I sat down in a crowded restuarant in Bodhgaya opposite two German fellows on their third day in India. I was shocked that they had arrived in Bodhgaya after 3 days, since they had landed in Mumbai (Bombay). They had managed to visit Varanasi in between. No small feat. It turns out they had flown from Mumbai to Varanasi. They were in shellshock. No doubt. Varanasi is an intense town. It's the epitomy of India. Filthy. Crazy to the western mind (I met an Irish guy there two years ago, who said "cows are supposed to be in pastures, not in town!"). The German fellows said they were overcome by the smells and filth. Every shop has a different smell... intense inscense, strong foods, burning charcoal, burning garbage. The street has a variety of dung in it... most often smelling a bit like a cow barn.

They had been hassled by touts. Sold a bus ticket for a bus that didn't exist. When they got to where the bus was supposed to be there was nothing. They were at the mercy of a rickshaw driver who suggested they go to Bodhgaya. Not knowing what else to do, they agreed to pay him an inflated price to go to the train station. They were smart enough to say they wouldn't pay him if he was lying about the train.

They said "everyone here is lying and cheating!" They had taken a proper taxi from Gaya to Bodhgaya. Everyone takes rickshaws. They had clutched there bags beneath their feet afraid of being ripped off. They were truly in shock and fear. I don't know if they didn't have a guide book or what. Usually I try to get some information on transport and prices.

They had a crazy 5 week itinerary. Mumbai, Varanasi, Bodhgaya, Patna, Gaya, Kolkata, Varanasi, Mumbai, Goa, and the west coast. I tried to tell them there were two ways I knew of to get some relief from the intensity of India... one is to go to non-tourist areas. Sometimes just a few kilometers will make all the difference in being suffocated by touts and aggressive approaches. And then there is the mountains... the Buddhists, and the mountains are much less intense.

I tried to convince them to take a trip to Darjeeling or Sikkim. They had 18 days before their flight from Varanasi to Mumbai. Kolkata, I told them would be a repeat of Varanasi. Intense. Poverty. Filth. Touts. Nobody goes to Gaya and Patna... I had never heard of anything interesting about them... they were just intense, crime-ridden travel hubs from what I had heard.

An American guy Jason sat down. He's been doing research on NGO's in Bodhgaya and lived there 6 months aready. He tried to convince them to change their itinerary as well. He said, "You know all that filth that disgusted you in Varanasi... the dung, and urine, and dead rats, and half burned trash? when it rains in Kolkata, the streets flood up to your waist and you have to walk through it!"

I saw the German's the next day. They had been on one of the school tours to see the money making school operations. (I'm proud to say, I didn't see one school in Bodhgaya). It's the number one touted item. The German guy went on about how the children sit in a dark dingy room without light, or proper books, or paper etc. He said how amazing it was because you hear such things about the third world, and now he has seen it with his own eyes. I didn't have the heart to tell him it was likely not so real as he thought.. but merely a staged show to let tourists feel compassionate and charitable. I felt sad because I'm sure that such ill equipped schools do exist... in a way the one he saw existed... but it was merely a cash hog for it's owners.

They had booked a train for Darjeeling. I was relieved for them.

It reminded me of a tourist I met my first days in Bodhgaya. She had been on a local tour with a local guide to see some poverty stricken village. She exclaimed, "They are so poor they eat rice and cow dung!" "I don't think so," I said, "I know they dry cow dung to burn for fuel, but I don't think they eat it." "No, really", she said, "I had a local guide and he showed me how they shape it into round disks and dry it in the sun... and he told me they are so poor that is what they eat!"

I took it in. I said, "Well, in India, anything is possible, I suppose." Yesterday, I told my local friend Kundan about it, and he burst out laughing, "Tourists will believe anything!" I joked that maybe we should make a business an make fried cow dung to sell to tourists. It could be like the fried grasshopper carts I see roaming the streets late at night in Thailand to take advantage of drunk tourists who want to show off.

I tried to explain to Kundan the humorous folk song "Moose Turd Pie." The song is about a group of cowboys and how whoever complains about the food has to cook. It goes on about how this one night, the cook makes moose turd pie and feeds it to the cowboys. One cowboy exclaims, "Uggh, this is moose turd pie.... but it's the best I've ever had!"