A series of unfortunate events

For some reason, I’ve had the great misfortune to experience much more of the Indian male attitude toward western women recently. I’m not sure if it’s the places I’ve been going, if I’m just tired of pretending it’s not happening, if the extremely tall blond man I’ve been travelling with attracts more attention, or if I’ve lost some of my precious inner bitch, but there’s something up. I have been gawked at and leered at by groups of giggling school boys or obnoxious young men more in the last week than I have been in all my travels in India over the last year. I almost always wear very modest Indian clothing, and everything I wear seems to be looser than what most of the local women have on.

In Chandigarh, men and boys would stop and stare and jeer openly. I experimented with different reactions: glaring back, pretending not to notice, looking away, and nothing seemed to make a difference. Strange men were asking to have their picture taken and attempting the reach-around-boob-grab before shaking my hand (which apparently is considered a come-on here). Going anywhere in Punjab seemed to attract more unwanted attention than navigating the touristy streets of Udaipur, which involved walking a gauntlet of leering shopkeepers who seemed to remember my every move when I was alone and took no notice of me when I was with a man. The absolute winner in the “Western Women are Easy and Thus Not Deserving of Any Personal Space or Respect” contest was the drive-by groping I fell victim to in Amritsar. A friend and I were riding back to our guest house in a cycle rickshaw late one evening. I was wearing conservative Indian dress, including a shawl covering my head and entire upper body. A man drove by us on a motorcycle, and as he passed us he slowed down and reached out a hand to grope my side. I’m not talking about a quick touch of the fingers as he sped past. This was a full-on, slow-motion hand wrapped around my ribcage, sliding forward going for the chest grab. I yelled a few choice words as he sped away, but he was too quick for me to reach out and grab that wayward arm and yank him off his moving bike for his affront to my dignity.

It's too bad that has become the most memorable part of my trip to Amritsar, because there really is a lot of beauty there - not the least of which is the Golden Temple. An impressive place, not just for the beauty of the temple itself, but for what happens there. They have a massive kitchen, and feed anyone who comes through, regardless of background, caste, or religion. No questions asked. No money required. We had a great meal - all you can eat - of rice and chapati and dal. It's simple food, but it's good, clean, and healthy. After eating, we were allowed to wander into the kitchen where thousands of chapatis are rolled and huge vats of dal are brewing all day long. The amazing Indian hospitality is such a beautiful contrast to the hassles of street life here.