Walking Like a Cow

India, October 2012

We were getting ready to cross a busy street in Delhi, and our tour leader advised us to "walk like a cow", meaning when you see your chance, go and don't hesitate. Cows wander the streets of India with apparent nonchalance and manage not to get themselves killed or to disrupt traffic (much). We all crossed the street safely; the flow of rickshaws, tuk-tuks, taxis, buses and trucks simply enveloped us, we keep walking and break through to the other side. Walking like a cow is good general advice for walking around tourist attraction in India.

We travel in a huge white bus air conditioned bus with the word "Tourist" emblazoned on the front window. When we stop anywhere, we draw a crowd. In the country, it is usually children curious to see strangers. In the cities or at tourist destinations, hawkers and beggars are attracted to the bus like bees to a flower. Every time we stop, we must run a gantlet to get from the bus to our destination. Conversations are started by single word "No", eye contact, or even glancing at merchandise.

Hawker: "Pashmina? 200 rupees." (An impossibly low price for the genuine article.)
Me: "No, thanks".
Hawker: "100 Rs".
Me: "No. I don't want a pashmina".
Hawker: "Gandhi statue? 200 Rs"
Me: "No"
Hawker: "100 Rs".
...

The bus stops and we all prepare to go do our touristic duties. I jam my hat onto my head, adjust my Ray-Bans, and take a deep breath. I get off the bus and am engulfed in noise and exotic smells. I begin walking like a cow. I become invisible. The crowd parts for me as the Red Sea parts for Charlton Heston. I do not see the tacky elephant key chains. I do not see the postcards, the singing bowls. I do not feel the slender woman holding a child gently touch my arm. I do not see the man infected with elephantiasis display a foot like a tennis racquet with toes. I do not hear the price of the Gandhi statue drop to 2 for 100 Rs. I am indeed walking like a cow.

These scenes repeated in multiple languages everywhere tour buses stop. After a few days, one of our group asks "How to you like India?", perhaps expecting a value judgment. Value judgment in India is slippery. The hawkers, and even the beggars, are operating some sort of enterprise. It is a truism to say that there is poverty in India. The question to ask is how are people dealing with their own poverty. Business in India operates on all scales. The hawkers and beggars are participating on a microscopic scale. The man with the tennis racquet foot has declined medical treatment because it would reduce his income. A man in Jaipur, missing a foot from birth, upgraded his business from begging to selling postcards and helping tourists cross the street. Hawkers bring cash home and put food on the table while being spared from the indignity of begging. Our tour guide recounted a success story of three brothers from Varanasi who parlayed their hawker business into a multinational business enterprise. It is a hallmark of contemporary India - 1.2 billion people creating ways to put food on the table. Value judgments are irrelevant.

Walk like a cow.