Push and Shove

We sat down at the ghat next to the Pushkar Lake as the sun began its daily technicolor show.  The kids showed up immediately.

Hallo.Whereyoufrom? China?Korea?Japan? Want some water want some water want some water?

No no no no.

We showed them our water bottle.  See? We have enough water.  A precocious one now reversed his plea and yanked the bottle out of YupNo's hands.  The mission accomplished, two of them skipped off to beg, plea and cajole other backpackers waiting for the light show.

A little one stayed behind. Emboldened by our gift, he turned on the puppy dog eyes and motioned for YupNo's biner hooked to her messenger bag.

Mountain walk? He pointed, then curled his fingers around the crimson hook.

YupNo said no no no, and stared straight ahead.  You have to do these things sometimes in these types of situations. Ignore, ignore, and ignore.Make eye contact or give a positive signal and all the beggars in the vicinity will come.

And what does the kid do but use the one weapon that kids have against adults -- be annoying as possible.  No, we said. No! he said.  Go away, we said.  Go away! he screamed. And on and on.

Puppy-eyes turned over to me having tired of the repeat game, his face caked with perpetual grime. He tugged at my wristband. Give me for good luck.  Then he yanked at my watch. Both no-gos, he stood silent for a micro-second before demanding pens, rupees and most everything I had in my pack.  Undeterred by my no-ignores, he switched back to YupNo, tugging at her hook again.

No no no.

The kid's got perseverance.  And creativity. Water bottles as drum sticks, puppy-eyes became a drummer, with our legs and knees and arms as drums. Thump thump bang bang. Again and again and again. Agains flowing from seconds to minutes.

Down at the shore, brahmins methodically unwound pink-salmon turbans and stripped down to their loincloths, readying themselves for a bath in the holy waters.  Nearby, a couple of backpackers dressing in their best Bob Marley gear twirled ropes around their head, like a one of those rave performances, except without globe lights.  There was music, too.  A couple of musicians walked by, bowing on an Indian-violin, while their consorts twirled and sing -- a whirl of orange and red saris.  They played 1 minute ditties before extending their palms for rupees.  Drums, real ones, knocked to a beat that imitated our collective hearts.

Thump thump bang bang.

Why is it that he doesn't see us as human but we have to sit here and take it? I forget whether YupNo asked or I asked, whether the question was aloud or silent.

We play this little game until, seeing his friends having successes with other travelers, the little drummer scuttled off.

The brahmins rewound their turbans and wrapped their cloths around their Nicole Richtie bodies. The rope twirlers crescendos in a rush of patterns and flourish.  The musicians and singers gave it one last go, and the deep heavy drums crashed in a rush of improvisation.  The sun flashed and bled across the sky, turning the Pushkar walls, all of them painted purple, into a glow of blues.

The sunset ended, but my thoughts didn't disconnect from their troubled churning.

How to deal with the poverty around me? What was the most effective reaction to this sludge of humanity? More specifically, as a traveler, I have to practically deal with touts and beggars in one manner, but as a moral person, how should I manage? And if the two conflicted?

I suppose there is the need to have serenity is more urgent when suffering seems closest at hand. I'm not surprised that this is the origins of the philosophy of detachment, or karma, samsara, dharma and guans.  But there's a part of me (a very middle class sensible part of me) that gets jolted every time I encounter the earnest and pained face of humanity here in India – because I haven't yet found a good way to deal with the reality yet – one that is almost persistent as the puppy-eyed kid.

Honestly, my take on such situations is to repel them like flies. Seriously though, what good is it to just feel sorry when, really, there is not much you can do? I'd rather turn the blind eye on them. Partly because they are appealing to your feeling sorry to make a quick buck (and what good is that???)you should precisely ignore them. Give a man a fish or teach him how to fish? I think the answer is clear. Giving stuff to these people only worsens the problem almost any way you look at it. The problem comes from far more fundamental reasons that cannot be solved through our individual actions.

Posted by: vinny | November 15, 2006 at 03:23 PM

Sad but I still couldn't help feeling annoyed just reading your entry. I'd have the urge to slap the kid.

Posted by: C.H.Ha | November 16, 2006 at 02:23 PM

maybe pray for them? and give only when you feel a genuine urge to? or help or try to encourage in non monetary ways? share food? no idear. just some thoughts.

Posted by: jojo | November 19, 2006 at 06:33 AM

i usually try and play games if a kid's bugging me. if he wants my watch and is tugging on it, i'll say "hey look, let's play tic tac toe" and scratch a game into the dirt.

the other option is to carry around 'gifts' to hand out in such a situation, but i've never had the organization to do that. i've met travellers who do.

Posted by: ink | November 19, 2006 at 10:55 AM

I try hard not to succomb to the initial reaction of 'me vs. them'. Try to understand and remember what their position is and where they're coming from – it's not as if the kids WANT to beg.. Given the choice, I'm sure they'd want to munch on cheetos and watch Cartoon Network.

But it's the system propagated by both travellers, parents, community and inattentive govts that creates the idea that 'it's OK to beg', that it's OK to have self-pity and what's worse, to have self-justification and self-entitlement that they deserve alms, or deserve more than whatever handouts they're getting (not unlike some bankers I know).

In addition to showing us pens and bracelets and other things from their knapsack, we've had kids and moms ask us for more rupees after we've given them some.. or they would hand us back food and ask for money instead...

The more you give, the more the poor think it's an easy way to make money... when really they should be investing in education and other things – but how can they when they're sleeping on the streets?

Sometimes it's a racket (much like those M&M kids in NYC subways), sometimes it's genuine.. but it's sad all the same because the system only spirals downwards.

Sorry for the long comments – poverty is a big issue for me.

Posted by: j.fisher | November 21, 2006 at 09:53 PM