There are many spoken and unspoken rules in India. In America, we may have rules of social decorum, but they are innate to us - we don't need to think about them. In fact, my heros have always tended to be women who flout these rules. But practicing "safety first" in India and showing respect for the culture means learning the Indian societal rules and playing by them.
What does this often mean? Not making eye contact, particularly with men who are staring at you. Tipping everyone. Finding opportunities to say "Namaste" or "Happy New Year" and bowing to those who help you negotiate your new world.
Even when you try to be proper, you end up making a fool of yourself regularly. For example, our first day, we were starved for beer. We'd been on vacation for one week and only attained 2 beers a piece at the Western hotel we stayed in Agra. Immediately, we asked our Muslim driver, Nayeem, if he could take us to buy beer. While Nick was getting it, I said, "It seems like no one in India drinks!"
He politely responded, "Some do and some don't, madam."
The next day, I asked Tirupa, our housekeeper if she'd help me tie my sari. She kindly agreed to and there were many awkward pauses as we searched for safety pins and I held the pleats while she situated my sash. When I tried to tip her for this service, she declined. Later, I realized that there are strict rules for not tipping the staff. Tirupa also left us beautiful orchids in our bedroom. It's strange being in a place where someone is working constantly to appease and comfort you, and you cannot reciprocate.
Later we went to an open air market, where we bought a number of wall hangings to decorate our bare apartment. Nick was reprimanded at one stall when he tried to pay an artist with his left hand (bad luck!) He quickly changed hands, and the artist kissed the money and said a little prayer.
At the market, we experienced a very mixed reaction to my dress. Some women stopped me to smile and say that I looked very beautiful in my sari. (It goes without saying that I was merely imitating all the beauty surrounding me. India as Violet says, "is all about fashion." Women's saris are truly arresting.) One girl even stopped me to ask who had tied my sari and instructed me that if I wore a chain around my neck and had a bindi I would look like a true Indian girl. She proceeded to take a bindi out of her purse and anoint me with it. But behind my back, many shopkeepers snickered at my sari - how it wasn't tied correctly, etc..., etc...It's strange and unsettling to have the feeling that you are constantly being judged no matter how pure your intentions are.
Yesterday, we crossed the street from our apartment to a beauty salon run exclusively by teenage women. The bulk of their business appeared to be threading eyebrows. I had a hair cut for 350 Rps (equivalent to about $8). While my hair was being washed, the hairdresser asked me if I spoke Hindi. When I said no, she made a quick comment to her assistant who laughed and laughed. I can only imagine she said something about the ugly old white hag with frizzy hair that she was coiffing. Nonetheless, she gave me a great haircut. In the waiting room, the receptionist kindly decorated Violet's hand and shoulder in Henna. Violet couldn't have been happier.
