Life in Another Country - Long Version
Discussion
Apologies for the lack of photos now: I’m at work, and haven’t got my hard drive with the pictures on – if I get a chance later, I’ll add some more. 
I suppose I should get the most obvious thing out of the way first. The dreaded Delhi Belly! To be honest, it’s not THAT bad. It’s caused by the water being too rich for our delicate western stomachs, nothing to do with the food or a lack of hygiene. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t make you feel sick, it’s purely a runny tummy and you just make sure you’ve not too far from a toilet for a couple of days. It’s understandable, it’s expected, and there’s no embarrassment in it. It happens.
Jabs wise, I’ve had the full raft. Hep A/B, rabies, typhoid, Japanese encephalitis, and some others – but to be honest unless you do anything really stupid, I can’t see any of them being more than an extreme precaution. Medicines are all available over the counter without prescription, and are CHEAP. A pack of antibiotics will be about 35p, 6 immodium 40p, etc.
Wandering around outside the real tourist areas, you don’t see many European faces. I mean, there are a few but as a percentage of the whole it’s far FAR were than the comparison in reverse anywhere in the UK. It’s quite common to get in to a conversation with a “creamyface” in a bar or restaurant, and the conversation always starts with where you’re from, and how long you’re there for – and normally ends with swapping phone numbers or emails. It’s like being at big school on the first day – you have to learn to make friends again. It’s not that easy being mid-30’s, but once you get used to it, it’s a great feeling. In 4 months, I’ve developed a great group of friends – American, Brazilian, French, Italian, German, Welsh, Nigerian, Ghanaen, S. African, and an Israeli. We all live in the same area, if any of us are bored we send out a group What’sApp and can normally whip up a drinking/hiking buddy in no time.
(What’sApp is absolutely huge here. If you want to book a meeting with the bank manager, book a car, book a table at a restaurant, ANYTHING, you use What’sApp. All you ever hear is that bloody Samsung whistle!)
It’s perfectly pleasant to wander round in shorts at any time of the day or night. I am yet to feel cold anywhere except the cinema – for some reason it is genuinely like a fridge in there, probably close to single digit temperatures. It’s so humid too, you can’t help but sweat. It’s clean sweat though, not like grafting all day sweat. Kind of like sauna sweat. (Too much info?) And it’s monsoon season now, which, to be honest, is just like April in the UK, only a constant 30 degrees. It’s not too hot, too cold, too wet. I’ve survived so far and I’ve not even got an umbrella. I think I’ve been properly caught out and soaked once. But it’s their only rain, between June and September every year, and they love it, celebrate it and the green-ness it brings. But, being a Brit, it’s just rain. Get over it!
We all, obviously, speak English. As do most of the locals. Some Indians speak a bit of French, some a bit of Portuguese, but given that India has about 20 official languages, most people have decided that English is the common tongue. That doesn’t mean you can understand them, or they can understand you, but it’s a start. Strangely, the people who are understood the best are the French guys, speaking English with a very French accent – they never, ever have to repeat themselves. I practically have to use sign language, but then I speak like a country bumpkin, buh. The language here, from the locals, is beautiful. Women speaking Hindi (or the local dialect, Marathi) sounds as romantic/sexy as anything. The men speaking it sound like they’re spoiling for a fight, so I don’t listen out for them! Their English is very 1930’s – they use words like “thrice” and phrases like “each and everything” “with all my thankfulness”, and “do the needful”, which makes me chuckle.
Getting anything done here takes a long time. The country appears to be stuck in the pre-Internet age, yet is fully digitally connected. It goes back to my original point about using lots of labour to do what a single computer/machine could or would do in the western world. If you want to register as a tax-paying foreigner (FRRO), then you have to go to an office, and see about 6 different people – each gives you a different piece of paper to sign, and then stamps it, and sends you on to someone else. It’s inefficiency in the extreme, but it employs people. It’s the same with something as simple as shopping. The local supermarket: One person to greet you, one to pass you a trolley, DOZENS of assistants helping you find stuff, one person on the till, one person bagging, one person passing you the receipt, one person stamping the receipt on exit. Crazy, but once you get used to it, it flows quite well. Browsing, however, doesn’t happen. Stop for more than 5 seconds and they descend on you, trying to help or suggest something you’d like, show you the offers etc. It can be a bit overwhelming sometimes…
It’s the same with work – we’ve employed someone to do the expenses, yet he needs an assistant for a reason we can’t quite figure, who he just copies in to all emails. It’s cheap to employ him, and if we ask if he’s necessary then we get told quite firmly that the expenses guy couldn’t do it alone – but still, it’s amusing to see them working away together, one is definitely more senior, and he lets the other guy know at every opportunity. They LOVE a job title here. If one person is an Engineer, and another is a Senior Engineer, then the senior will have to refer to his job title almost constantly. Every email has the full signature, every letter, or form, or phone call he identifies himself as Mr Bramhankar, Senior Engineer. (Personally, as long as they pay me, I don’t care what they call me, I’m an engineer, that’s good enough for me – but here they LOVE the professional recognition!)
That doesn’t mean that professionalism is everywhere. I’ve had to give a few hundred rupees here or there to get things happening. When I was looking for an apartment, I had to have an interview with “the society”, which is a group of the more respected/long term residents who decide if new tenants are suitable for their building. (The apartment buildings are 30+ storey buildings, with anything from 2-6 apartments per floor). Being an unmarried man, they wouldn’t accept me. They don’t see a long-term partner as a wife, in fact mention the word “girlfriend” and they think you’re some sort of playboy. They asked me how many girlfriends I have in the UK, and would they be visiting – and when I said I had one, and yes she would, you could see the disapproval dripping from under their noses. I gave up in the end and have decided to stay in a hotel long term, I’ve negotiated a room and a rate, and short of a kitchen it’s not much different to a serviced apartment. It also avoids a lot of the other pitfalls.
For example, when many of the apartment buildings were built, they displaced slums. The slum dwellers negotiated with the building developers (and “societies”) that they would retain the employment rights to move furniture in and out of the apartments. So if you get something delivered on anything other than a Saturday, and don’t get the “mob” to move it in, they will blockade the gate, and threaten (and beat) the delivery driver unless they get a pay off. It’s like something from the 1920’s. An expat friend got a table delivered on a Tuesday, and ended up in a (physical) fight with about ten of these mobsters who were trying to extort about GBP100 from him to allow the driver to enter. This is accepted and normal and happens all the time. One of the darker sides to “life” here, rather than just coming for a holiday! But it happens. If you go moaning to The Society, and start raising your voice, you can normally get half the money back. It’s very fluid, and depends how much you want to argue.
The arranged marriage thing is a funny one. I say arranged, it’s more “assisted”. It holds a hangover to the s
tty outdated caste system, but it also has its merits. The parents will help the son or daughter find a partner, there is no obligation. People are free to go and find wives off their own back, but the approval of the family is very important. In many households, the son earning will support the rest of the family in old age. (My driver supports his wife, children, parents, and brother/brother’s family on the wage and tip that I pay him.) A colleague of mine has probably met 100 girls over the last couple of years, mostly through family introductions, but none he wants to marry. Whilst he seems a bit gutted, there is no stigma in meeting and not getting on – although I think there’s more to it than that, and that the caste system/skin tone plays a part. There’s definitely a thing about having paler skin. All face washes, creams etc here are openly advertised as “whitening”, or “enhance your fairness”, “fair and lovely” etc, and I think the darker the skin the lower in “the system” you are – that kind of grates a bit but again, appears to be widely accepted here.
It was mentioned above about restaurant managers moving locals off of tables to allow us westerners to sit. We certainly don’t ask for it – I can only guess it’s an economic decision. We, generally, spend a lot more on food and drink than locals. They may sit and share a curry between 4, with chapattis and tap water. We would likely sit, have a curry each, a few naan, a pudding, and 3 or 4 beers each – and then tip more than most people pay for a meal. It’s not trying to show off and be the big rich white man, but if everyone leaves the equivalent of a quid’s tip, then that can quite easily double the waiter’s wage for the day, and it’s a quid each. If it makes that much difference to them, they’re welcome to it. It’s the same with Mastan, my driver. I tip him a tenner a week, and that pays for his daughter’s schooling. I won’t miss ten quid, and considering he runs me all over the place, at any time of the day or night, I should probably give him more. When I go home permanently, I’ve already decided he’s getting whatever’s left in my living expenses account, and my “old” laptop and phone. It’s the least I can do.
Rickshaws. Now then. These things are either a blessing or a bane. There is no denying they are CHEAP. 17p for the first 3km, and then about 7p/km thereafter. You can cross the city, or go from South Mumbai to the northern suburbs after 1am for about 3 quid. But they are like wasps, like annoying, buzzy wasps. The horns, constantly going. The drivers constantly trying to tell you the meter isn’t working, so the trip will be 100r. But, get a good driver, who uses the meter, and doesn’t take the long way round, and they are such a great way of travelling. Yes, you feel exposed, and yes, the level of driving sometimes leaves a lot to be desired, but again I’ve never seen an accident with one, they are cheap and easy to repair, and they are ultra-maneuverable. They get driven in the same way a cat uses it’s whiskers – if the front fits, then there’s room. Easy to hail, easy to pay, and the drivers are incredibly knowledgable about the various destinations.
That’s it for now, part 2 mega waffle over – I’ll try and update with photos later on, but as before, if you have any specific questions or comments or want to know more about anything about life out here, just say
I suppose I should get the most obvious thing out of the way first. The dreaded Delhi Belly! To be honest, it’s not THAT bad. It’s caused by the water being too rich for our delicate western stomachs, nothing to do with the food or a lack of hygiene. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t make you feel sick, it’s purely a runny tummy and you just make sure you’ve not too far from a toilet for a couple of days. It’s understandable, it’s expected, and there’s no embarrassment in it. It happens.
Jabs wise, I’ve had the full raft. Hep A/B, rabies, typhoid, Japanese encephalitis, and some others – but to be honest unless you do anything really stupid, I can’t see any of them being more than an extreme precaution. Medicines are all available over the counter without prescription, and are CHEAP. A pack of antibiotics will be about 35p, 6 immodium 40p, etc.
Wandering around outside the real tourist areas, you don’t see many European faces. I mean, there are a few but as a percentage of the whole it’s far FAR were than the comparison in reverse anywhere in the UK. It’s quite common to get in to a conversation with a “creamyface” in a bar or restaurant, and the conversation always starts with where you’re from, and how long you’re there for – and normally ends with swapping phone numbers or emails. It’s like being at big school on the first day – you have to learn to make friends again. It’s not that easy being mid-30’s, but once you get used to it, it’s a great feeling. In 4 months, I’ve developed a great group of friends – American, Brazilian, French, Italian, German, Welsh, Nigerian, Ghanaen, S. African, and an Israeli. We all live in the same area, if any of us are bored we send out a group What’sApp and can normally whip up a drinking/hiking buddy in no time.
(What’sApp is absolutely huge here. If you want to book a meeting with the bank manager, book a car, book a table at a restaurant, ANYTHING, you use What’sApp. All you ever hear is that bloody Samsung whistle!)
It’s perfectly pleasant to wander round in shorts at any time of the day or night. I am yet to feel cold anywhere except the cinema – for some reason it is genuinely like a fridge in there, probably close to single digit temperatures. It’s so humid too, you can’t help but sweat. It’s clean sweat though, not like grafting all day sweat. Kind of like sauna sweat. (Too much info?) And it’s monsoon season now, which, to be honest, is just like April in the UK, only a constant 30 degrees. It’s not too hot, too cold, too wet. I’ve survived so far and I’ve not even got an umbrella. I think I’ve been properly caught out and soaked once. But it’s their only rain, between June and September every year, and they love it, celebrate it and the green-ness it brings. But, being a Brit, it’s just rain. Get over it!
We all, obviously, speak English. As do most of the locals. Some Indians speak a bit of French, some a bit of Portuguese, but given that India has about 20 official languages, most people have decided that English is the common tongue. That doesn’t mean you can understand them, or they can understand you, but it’s a start. Strangely, the people who are understood the best are the French guys, speaking English with a very French accent – they never, ever have to repeat themselves. I practically have to use sign language, but then I speak like a country bumpkin, buh. The language here, from the locals, is beautiful. Women speaking Hindi (or the local dialect, Marathi) sounds as romantic/sexy as anything. The men speaking it sound like they’re spoiling for a fight, so I don’t listen out for them! Their English is very 1930’s – they use words like “thrice” and phrases like “each and everything” “with all my thankfulness”, and “do the needful”, which makes me chuckle.
Getting anything done here takes a long time. The country appears to be stuck in the pre-Internet age, yet is fully digitally connected. It goes back to my original point about using lots of labour to do what a single computer/machine could or would do in the western world. If you want to register as a tax-paying foreigner (FRRO), then you have to go to an office, and see about 6 different people – each gives you a different piece of paper to sign, and then stamps it, and sends you on to someone else. It’s inefficiency in the extreme, but it employs people. It’s the same with something as simple as shopping. The local supermarket: One person to greet you, one to pass you a trolley, DOZENS of assistants helping you find stuff, one person on the till, one person bagging, one person passing you the receipt, one person stamping the receipt on exit. Crazy, but once you get used to it, it flows quite well. Browsing, however, doesn’t happen. Stop for more than 5 seconds and they descend on you, trying to help or suggest something you’d like, show you the offers etc. It can be a bit overwhelming sometimes…
It’s the same with work – we’ve employed someone to do the expenses, yet he needs an assistant for a reason we can’t quite figure, who he just copies in to all emails. It’s cheap to employ him, and if we ask if he’s necessary then we get told quite firmly that the expenses guy couldn’t do it alone – but still, it’s amusing to see them working away together, one is definitely more senior, and he lets the other guy know at every opportunity. They LOVE a job title here. If one person is an Engineer, and another is a Senior Engineer, then the senior will have to refer to his job title almost constantly. Every email has the full signature, every letter, or form, or phone call he identifies himself as Mr Bramhankar, Senior Engineer. (Personally, as long as they pay me, I don’t care what they call me, I’m an engineer, that’s good enough for me – but here they LOVE the professional recognition!)
That doesn’t mean that professionalism is everywhere. I’ve had to give a few hundred rupees here or there to get things happening. When I was looking for an apartment, I had to have an interview with “the society”, which is a group of the more respected/long term residents who decide if new tenants are suitable for their building. (The apartment buildings are 30+ storey buildings, with anything from 2-6 apartments per floor). Being an unmarried man, they wouldn’t accept me. They don’t see a long-term partner as a wife, in fact mention the word “girlfriend” and they think you’re some sort of playboy. They asked me how many girlfriends I have in the UK, and would they be visiting – and when I said I had one, and yes she would, you could see the disapproval dripping from under their noses. I gave up in the end and have decided to stay in a hotel long term, I’ve negotiated a room and a rate, and short of a kitchen it’s not much different to a serviced apartment. It also avoids a lot of the other pitfalls.
For example, when many of the apartment buildings were built, they displaced slums. The slum dwellers negotiated with the building developers (and “societies”) that they would retain the employment rights to move furniture in and out of the apartments. So if you get something delivered on anything other than a Saturday, and don’t get the “mob” to move it in, they will blockade the gate, and threaten (and beat) the delivery driver unless they get a pay off. It’s like something from the 1920’s. An expat friend got a table delivered on a Tuesday, and ended up in a (physical) fight with about ten of these mobsters who were trying to extort about GBP100 from him to allow the driver to enter. This is accepted and normal and happens all the time. One of the darker sides to “life” here, rather than just coming for a holiday! But it happens. If you go moaning to The Society, and start raising your voice, you can normally get half the money back. It’s very fluid, and depends how much you want to argue.
The arranged marriage thing is a funny one. I say arranged, it’s more “assisted”. It holds a hangover to the s
tty outdated caste system, but it also has its merits. The parents will help the son or daughter find a partner, there is no obligation. People are free to go and find wives off their own back, but the approval of the family is very important. In many households, the son earning will support the rest of the family in old age. (My driver supports his wife, children, parents, and brother/brother’s family on the wage and tip that I pay him.) A colleague of mine has probably met 100 girls over the last couple of years, mostly through family introductions, but none he wants to marry. Whilst he seems a bit gutted, there is no stigma in meeting and not getting on – although I think there’s more to it than that, and that the caste system/skin tone plays a part. There’s definitely a thing about having paler skin. All face washes, creams etc here are openly advertised as “whitening”, or “enhance your fairness”, “fair and lovely” etc, and I think the darker the skin the lower in “the system” you are – that kind of grates a bit but again, appears to be widely accepted here. It was mentioned above about restaurant managers moving locals off of tables to allow us westerners to sit. We certainly don’t ask for it – I can only guess it’s an economic decision. We, generally, spend a lot more on food and drink than locals. They may sit and share a curry between 4, with chapattis and tap water. We would likely sit, have a curry each, a few naan, a pudding, and 3 or 4 beers each – and then tip more than most people pay for a meal. It’s not trying to show off and be the big rich white man, but if everyone leaves the equivalent of a quid’s tip, then that can quite easily double the waiter’s wage for the day, and it’s a quid each. If it makes that much difference to them, they’re welcome to it. It’s the same with Mastan, my driver. I tip him a tenner a week, and that pays for his daughter’s schooling. I won’t miss ten quid, and considering he runs me all over the place, at any time of the day or night, I should probably give him more. When I go home permanently, I’ve already decided he’s getting whatever’s left in my living expenses account, and my “old” laptop and phone. It’s the least I can do.
Rickshaws. Now then. These things are either a blessing or a bane. There is no denying they are CHEAP. 17p for the first 3km, and then about 7p/km thereafter. You can cross the city, or go from South Mumbai to the northern suburbs after 1am for about 3 quid. But they are like wasps, like annoying, buzzy wasps. The horns, constantly going. The drivers constantly trying to tell you the meter isn’t working, so the trip will be 100r. But, get a good driver, who uses the meter, and doesn’t take the long way round, and they are such a great way of travelling. Yes, you feel exposed, and yes, the level of driving sometimes leaves a lot to be desired, but again I’ve never seen an accident with one, they are cheap and easy to repair, and they are ultra-maneuverable. They get driven in the same way a cat uses it’s whiskers – if the front fits, then there’s room. Easy to hail, easy to pay, and the drivers are incredibly knowledgable about the various destinations.
That’s it for now, part 2 mega waffle over – I’ll try and update with photos later on, but as before, if you have any specific questions or comments or want to know more about anything about life out here, just say
Absolutely fantastic read OP - thanks for sharing. Just a few questions from me:
- What's it like crime-wise? I know you mentioned that the slum areas seem pretty crime free but I was just wondering whether you are at more risk of getting robbed when you are out and about? And is there a big police/security presence?
- How expensive are the supermarkets if you want to buy more western-style food? I assume local produce is going to be fairly cheap.
- With regard to healthcare, have you had any experience of the medical facilities (e.g. hospitals, doctors, dentists), and if so what was it like?
- What's it like crime-wise? I know you mentioned that the slum areas seem pretty crime free but I was just wondering whether you are at more risk of getting robbed when you are out and about? And is there a big police/security presence?
- How expensive are the supermarkets if you want to buy more western-style food? I assume local produce is going to be fairly cheap.
- With regard to healthcare, have you had any experience of the medical facilities (e.g. hospitals, doctors, dentists), and if so what was it like?
BertieWooster said:
Absolutely fantastic read OP - thanks for sharing. Just a few questions from me:
- What's it like crime-wise? I know you mentioned that the slum areas seem pretty crime free but I was just wondering whether you are at more risk of getting robbed when you are out and about? And is there a big police/security presence?
- How expensive are the supermarkets if you want to buy more western-style food? I assume local produce is going to be fairly cheap.
- With regard to healthcare, have you had any experience of the medical facilities (e.g. hospitals, doctors, dentists), and if so what was it like?
I've not seen any crime yet - nor have I been worried about it at any point. This may be hugely stereotypical to say but if anyone tried anything I would first of all shout loudly (they appear to hate confrontation), then probably try and slap/punch my way out of it. There are police and security guards everywhere though, since the terror attacks. It's an incredibly peaceful (in terms of violence) place. I've seen a couple of bodies though, workplace accidents are scarily frequent here. People falling off buildings, or things falling off and squashing people, who are simply scraped up and put in the back of a flatbed and driven across the city to (presumably) the morgue. You can lose your lunch if you see something like that!- What's it like crime-wise? I know you mentioned that the slum areas seem pretty crime free but I was just wondering whether you are at more risk of getting robbed when you are out and about? And is there a big police/security presence?
- How expensive are the supermarkets if you want to buy more western-style food? I assume local produce is going to be fairly cheap.
- With regard to healthcare, have you had any experience of the medical facilities (e.g. hospitals, doctors, dentists), and if so what was it like?
The crowds appear to be pretty self-policing too. One of the expats was in a car accident - her driver was at fault and clipped a moped rider, causing the moped rider to fall off. A crowd of about 15 people dragged him out of his car, slapped him silly (punches and kicks), and then put him back in the car and drove him (in his own car!) to the police station...
Western food can be expensive. I borrowed a friend's apartment while he was on holiday, and bought the ingredients to knock myself up a carbonara. Pasta is quite cheap, but a standard triangle of Gradano was 800rupees (8 quid!). It's cheaper to eat out. I'm yet to find anywhere that will fill your belly and cost more than a tenner (plus beer).
I've had to go to the dentist here, but I went to a private hospital (work medical insurance) - although saying that, I think everywhere is private to some degree. It wasn't cheap, but the treatment was first class. I'm yet to go to the doctors, but I think I may have cracked/broken a bone in my wrist a few months ago - I cant lift or push anything with it, but can move it OK - so will probably end up at a local docs for an x-ray at some point. I'd have no issue going to use them for anything - be it GP services or anything more extreme. It's fine.
My abiding memories of Mumbai are the smell, the heat and most of all the number of people. If you visit Mumbai you don't doubt that there are more than a billion Indians as it feels like they all live i
Mumbai! When I first stayed there in 1991 it was in a hotel in an area near the old airport, well north of the main commercial area. However, the road outside the hotel was constantly busy. At peak times the crowds of people walking could be ten deep (with cars, bikes, cows and rickshaws randomly dispersed amongst them). However even at 2 am it was still busier than any street in the UK outside of Oxford Street in December.
Interesting that you have had such positive experiences. Mine were different. I found that there was a huge difference between being with family (my wife to be's). They were brilliant. Couldn't have been more hospitable. Really made me feel at home (despite being a gora). However outside of family I found that everyone else was trying to rip me off (probably because I was a foreigner). Just one example. I took a taxi from the train station to Nariman point. After about 15 minutes I glanced out the window...and we were driving past the station! Driver had just done a big loop to add to the fare. Although the amounts involved were small it still got on my nervous by the end of the month I was there.
I don't think I could live in Mumbai. Great that you seem to have adjusted so well.
Mumbai! When I first stayed there in 1991 it was in a hotel in an area near the old airport, well north of the main commercial area. However, the road outside the hotel was constantly busy. At peak times the crowds of people walking could be ten deep (with cars, bikes, cows and rickshaws randomly dispersed amongst them). However even at 2 am it was still busier than any street in the UK outside of Oxford Street in December.
Interesting that you have had such positive experiences. Mine were different. I found that there was a huge difference between being with family (my wife to be's). They were brilliant. Couldn't have been more hospitable. Really made me feel at home (despite being a gora). However outside of family I found that everyone else was trying to rip me off (probably because I was a foreigner). Just one example. I took a taxi from the train station to Nariman point. After about 15 minutes I glanced out the window...and we were driving past the station! Driver had just done a big loop to add to the fare. Although the amounts involved were small it still got on my nervous by the end of the month I was there.
I don't think I could live in Mumbai. Great that you seem to have adjusted so well.
Pistom said:
Great read. If you are enjoying Mumbai, you will love some of the other cities which make Mumbai seem sterile. The only Indians I've disliked are arrogant wealthy ones who treat other Indians like st but suck up to anyone who seems wealthy.
I've avoided talking about that sort. There is NOTHING ruder than a rich Indian. I have twice had to get involved when a rich Indian has started berating a waiter/server for doing the wrong thing, even though the waiter had asked, and been ignored, and decided for themselves the best course of action. I'm no "big social warrior" but they soon back down when a creamy face makes a big spectacle of them in front of all of their colleagues/friends. But yes, they are the rudest of the rude, and an embarrassment to their country. t but suck up to anyone who seems wealthy. Esceptico said:
Interesting that you have had such positive experiences. Mine were different. I found that there was a huge difference between being with family (my wife to be's). They were brilliant. Couldn't have been more hospitable. Really made me feel at home (despite being a gora). However outside of family I found that everyone else was trying to rip me off (probably because I was a foreigner). Just one example. I took a taxi from the train station to Nariman point. After about 15 minutes I glanced out the window...and we were driving past the station! Driver had just done a big loop to add to the fare. Although the amounts involved were small it still got on my nervous by the end of the month I was there.
You have to be wise to it, it's true, I've probably paid over the odds once or twice. Now I tell them, straight up, that if they don't mess me around I'll tip them, and sort of argument and they won't get anything extra. Again, a 100r note for us is a quid, so maybe a third of a usual cab ride tip. For them it may double their daily wage, so it pays for them to behave a little. I haven't felt (that much) that they're trying to rip me off. They probably do see me as a potentially good customer with deep pockets (comparatively) but any attempts to get extra out of me have been honest, if that makes sense - Rickshaws aside. Things like they try to serve you the expensive beer, but you only have to tell them once that you want Kingfisher, not the German stuff, and they're fine with it.
I hang out with my Indian colleagues too, which I think offers me some protection from the rip-off merchants. If we were a bunch of whiteys all hanging out together without our drivers etc, then I'm sure we would be targetted a little more. But as one white face in a half a dozen marathi-speaking locals, you can kind of blend in a little!
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