HONK PLEASE

Without a doubt, India has the most colorful trucks in all the world.

I can't believe I'm already at the halfway point of my trip. I've done so many amazing, unforgettable things. Some of the best things I've done were the most mundane activities, such as simply walking through town or taking a run at sunrise through the Muslim quarter as wheelbarrows full of cattle carcasses are being wheeled through the dusty streets and little children are walking to the madrasah.

As you can imagine, my looks and my wearing of the dhoti and my Gandhi glasses and especially my Mangol Pandey mustache has garnered me more than my fair share of attention. And while this becomes overwhelming at times, I much prefer being gawked at (or yes, even being laughed at) than feeling that I am gawking at the people who live here. After all, I am fascinated by India and Indians, but I also strive to be respectful of people's privacy. So now, with the mustache, people come to me and begin conversations.

Speaking of privacy, people ask the most personal questions. Usually they want to know where my wife and family are. Often I sense that they either cannot comprehend that I am not married, or pity me for it. But yesterday in Mattancheri, I was speaking with a young lady in a shop and when she learned that I was traveling alone, she said, "Wow. I think you are being too very much lucky!"

When I asked her what she meant, she said that I have so much freedom. I get to do whatever I want and go wherever I want. She told me that she was born and raised on Bazaar Road, just one block south of the shop where she now works and spends her days. And her married home is one block south of that, in Jew Town. There was one other place she had been. So she said, all here life she has only known four places and all four are within two blocks of each other. She said that all four were beautiful places, and that she was very happy, but she envied me my freedom.

She also said that I look different.

I get that a lot.

The other day, I walked into a charity shop for Mad Dogs Trust, an NGO that spays and neuters stray dogs and cats. The young man working there was like no one I've seen in India so far. He was wearing lipstick and red nail polish, but otherwise was dressed like a boy. He looked me up and down from my mustache to my toes and back up, then said, "Well, YOU'RE different!"

What I also got quite a lot in Kerala, was people (mostly men) asking to have their photograph taken with me. This never ceases to amuse me. One wonders where these photos will end up and the stories they will one day tell their grandchildren about me.

नमस्ते