The headbob

In most of my travels, the smile has been the ubiquitous greeting of respect and welcome.

In India - it is the headbob.

With a slight left/right movement of the head (think Bobble Head give-aways at hockey/baseball games), inquisitive eyes will be instantly transformed into beaming smiles. To date, I have found it the universal cure to unwanted male attention.

As Paul mentioned, in Cochin the buses and ferries were segregated by gender. I am surrounded by the beautiful patterns and colors of saris. Hair beautifully washed and pulled back with flowers. Babies are passed around to strangers, or whoever has a more convenient seat to hold a small child. Fuschia mixed with turquoise next to vivid greens and golds. New York black has no place in India! I look back to catch Paul's eye and am greeted by a sea of male observers all dressed in the standard male buttondown...and a lodji (think short serong). Paul and I bobble heads to each other and the back of the bus smiles together and bobbles back. In a country that makes no attempts at gender neutrality, these smiles are priceless.

The bobble - which I am slowly mastering, illicits a different reaction among women. Sometimes it is a slow smile that lingers. More often then not - and especially if I am the first to do the bob - I will be greetd by a fit of giggles. I am still learning the rules - much to many locals' enjoyment.

Before India, the most terrifying car ride I had ever taken was a taxi from Shanghai airport to downtown. Accustomed to Asia, Mom and Dad looked unfazed while I gripped the headboard with white knuckles, praying I would leave the videogame-like experience alive. This terrifying car ride even trumped an experience in Nicaragua, when Bonnie Gordon and I swirved out of the way of a large, previously cemented metal pole that had fallen out of the garbage truck in front of us. We joked of the videogame experience to make light of the situation, but by no means did it make the rides more 'enjoyable' per se.

Compared to India, those videogames are for guppies.

Whether in a bus, taxi, tuk-tuk or as a pedestrian, the street experience is a terrifying and noisy one here. We have learned that the honk means:
hello.
i am passing.
my car is bigger than yours.
you are driving too slow. see you at temple.
fish for sale.
thanks for letting me pass you.
the bus is here.
and last but not least - holy bloody hell - move out off the way before I hit you.

As summarized by the book Holy Cow, trucks and buses are the kings of the road. Pedestrians and bikes are at the bottom of the 'highway' caste system. The more steel in your vehicle frame, the more permission you have to drive like a total lunatic. This was confirmed during our 10+ hour government bus ride to magical Hampi. Everyone else better get out of the way if a bus or truck is coming or you're squat. The only exception to this seems to be with the cow. Everyone stops for the holy cow

When traveling, I am often dubious of men that approach to start a conversation. This is not always the case here. Sure, there are some that inevitably will turn the conversation into a request to come see the shop, or 'use my rickshaw', or use the opportunity to just look a bit closer. But what we have also found is a desire to practice English - with two main questions: "Hello. How are you? What country? Nice to meet you. Bye bye." End of conversation.

We have spent the past 2 days in Hampi - marveling in the unique rock formations. We could spend at least 4 more days here walking among the rocks and temples, but we are off to Bangalore tonight to catch a flight to Sri Lanka. Hampi is our first stop where you can feel the waiting of the monsoon. The land is dry and the crops clearly need more rain. To date, our monsoon of a summer has been somewhat of an anomaly - the sun shines bright in the day and rain comes to lull us to bed at night. Given the monsoon nightmares shared by friends, we realize how incredibly lucky we have been! But for the sake of Hampi, I hope rain comes soon - especially as we head north!! :)

When not exploring, Paul has taught me how to play chess and we have been glued to our books. Paul is reading Shantaram and I am reading Magnificent City: Lost and Found Bombay. Both are gripping!

More pics of Hampi to come.