Loosing The Plot!

What is it about us that so often, we are prepared to place our lives and our decisions in the hands of others?  Perhaps it’s because we think that by doing so, our lives will become easier and everything will be taken care of?

Still on the playing field of an unknown game and feeling like I was the only one on my team up against a rival team of 16 million (the population of Delhi), I decided to book me a 5-day tour comprising Delhi, Jaipur and Agra (home of the Taj Mahal).  Mustafa, a congenial fellow, was exceptionally good at his job and appeared to take care of me beautifully when organising my itinerary.  I would have a driver who was also a ‘professional tour guide’ and I would travel in the comfort of nice cars with everything taken care of.  Breathing a huge sigh of relief as I left his office, having enjoyed a particularly lovely glass of chai with him, I prepared for day 1 of my trip.  All I had to do, was be ready at 9am.

Day 1: Tour of New Delhi. My driver was Mr Kahn, great guy, great car, great English. Mustafa had done me proud.  Day 2: Tour of Old Delhi.  My driver was Mr Misira, not so good English, not so good car, not so good guy as he took me to more shops than sights where I was very deftly persuaded to part with money for over priced stuff.  Day 3:  Mr Coro rocked up in battered Mk 2 Ford Cortina, spoke absolutely no English whatsoever, and was my driver for the next 3 days on a road trip of around 1,000k’s. This was not a round trip and my end destination was a very long way from Mustafa’s office and he knew it!

I was beginning to see a pattern and far from being taken care of, it began to dawn on me that the money I had parted with for this trip was simply the entrance fee into a much greater game, for which I was the pawn – or prawn, depending of your frame of reference.  It seemed that everywhere I was taken, everyone who was involved in this trip was on commission from what I spent!  Further more, not one of my drivers was keen to leave anywhere until I had spent!   What was more puzzling was that they could say “Very good Sari shop Madam’ but could not understand ‘No, I don’t want another Sari”.  Now, whilst it was not actually very difficult for me to be drawn into the shiny shops of silk and silver, I did have to drawn the line when I was deposited outside the ‘Genuine Taj Marble Factory’.

Definitely taken by the Indian Tourist Bureau!

Part of the trip included a visit to the Amber Fort in Jaipur.  In my ever-evolving tone of assertiveness, I had felt particularly proud in negotiating a deal of 400 rupees’ to ride to the top of the Forte and back down again on a rather magnificent elephant!  The journey up was a hassle from the beginning with all manner of people trying to sell me all manner of stuff.  How they thought I could actually purchase anything whilst perched on top of an elephant was beyond me.  Whilst we in the West generally equate persistence with pain, it would seem that our Eastern neighbours equate it with pleasure.  Finally, I was lifted down from my elephant in the courtyard of the Forte.  I had one hour.  Within 1 minute, I was surrounded.  “Madam, look!”  “Madam, buy my sparkly elephants!”  “Madam, look my postcards, very beautiful”  “This way Madam, I have best dolls for you, very cheap”.  I lasted 15 minutes and found no escape from the army around me.  Very decisively, I marched back to my elephant, and demanded to be taken back down the mountain.  I was in complete and utter overwhelm which had culminated over 5 days of having no control over my space, whom I shared it with and for how long.  Somewhere in chaos, I heard my elephant driver utter “400 rupees’.  As I tried to concentrate on what he was saying amidst sparkly elephants still being thrust in front of my face, I finally and absolutely, lost the plot!

Scene of My Outburst!

“I am not paying any more rupees!”  I shouted at the elephant the driver. “I’ve paid for my trip down the hill, put me back on my elephant immediately” (that’s the thing about elephants, you can’t just get in them like you can a car).  My arms were now thrashing about and the crowd had moved back for safety.  “And all you, you can all just leave me alone!” I screamed, gathering momentum as continued to spin round the stunned gathering.

“I don’t want any sparkly elephants, no postcards and no bloody dolls!” pausing briefly to lunge and point randomly and furiously at the increasing throng of onlookers.  “Take me back down the hill NOW!”

Having expended 5 days of frustration all over the courtyard of The Amber Forte, I suddenly stopped and in a moment of mortifying self-awareness, focussed on the bemused faces around me.  In that moment, the whole place dissolved into laughter and I fell in heap of defiance and defeat!  Three men picked me up and carried me up the steps and onto my elephant with the crowd cheering on.  My elephant driver assured me “No rupees’ Madam” and as my elephant plodded away with me slumped on top, an array of dolls, postcards and sparkly elephants were thrown up to me from the bunch of smiling faces below.

It was the day I took charge of my adventure.  It was the day I learned The Game. It was also the day I fell in love with India.

What do you do when temptation to hand over responsibility for your decisions weighs heavy?  Do you trade short-term gain for long-term pain?  How much pain has it cost you to live somebody else’s game and at what point did you decide to create your own rules?  Have you noticed that when you are driving your own bus, or elephant, your life moves with direction, purpose and validity?  I’d love to hear from you on my travel blog!

For a life gifted twice

And in honour of bubbles, botox and red velvet gloves

Jacqui Lane

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