Chops are Back plus more Rickshaw stories

I'm accustomed to having my facial hair styled with mutton chops or lamb chops or whatever you call them. I've been wearing them most of the time since I was a sophomore in college (which would be 9 years or so ago). Recently I've taken to wearing the beard. Here in India the beard isn't terribly uncommon, but the chops, oh my!

I figured after my final bout with registration in which I look like a normal citizen with a nicely trimmed beard I'd go back to the "usual" look. Let me tell you...

If I wasn't acquiring stares before, I sure as hell am now! I must've gotten 10 questions about them today at the institute alone. I went out for dinner tonight with a friend and the stares were constant. I guess I have nothing left to do but to smile at everyone I catch staring. I've noticed something wonderful about the people here. When they smile, they smile big. Maybe, with all the lessons I've learned about India the most important is that moderation doesn't exist here. Smiles are radiant. I figure it's in my best interest to smile as widely as I can and greet the big smiles with the big smile I have of my own. I'm going to get stares either way so I might as well get them on my terms.

This evening as I was coming back to the campus with my friend we decided to jump in a shared auto. That is a rickshaw in which a bunch of people jump in and out and the rate is cheaper. At least the rate is cheaper for Tamils. We jumped out about a kilometer from our starting point. My friend pays the driver 10 Rs and we start walking. The driver yelling at him comes over to us and confronts my friend. He gets one of his little minions to speak in the mother tongue (Hindi) of my friend and explains that the fair is not enough. So we start walking again. My friend explains then after more yelling that this is the rate he pays everytime for two people. The driver then shows his fist and grabs my friend's backpack. I wasn't too worried about the whole thing because my friend actually knows how to fight and I'm a huge monster in comparison to everyone around. The driver would've sustained one of the worst beatings of his life (and not at my hands either, although I might have contributed some...). My friend gives him an extra 10 Rs. Are you kidding me! The driver was willing to risk a fight for 10 Rs! What a jackass! I was under the impression my friend had shorted him something like 50 Rs. But over a matter of 10 Rs. nothing is worth that aggression. Nothing in the world is worth that aggression. For those of you playing along at home, 10 Rs is $0.20. Also, I should mention after the COLA (cost of living adjustment) 10 Rs. only comes to about $1. Although, as my roommate told me in the very beginning of my stay:
"It's not about a matter of 2 Rs. versus 4 Rs. It's about the fact that everyone else gets the rate of 2 Rs. and I have to pay 4 Rs. That's simply not fair."

And here we are again tonight, I'm the westerner. I'm big and look strange and now have strange facial hair, so my friend ends up having to deal with the threats of some guy who is willing to get his sorry ass beaten over 10 Rs. because I'm not a local and he knows it. Argh! Now it's late and I'm at the office as the trains have stopped running. Tomorrow I'm off to Pondicherry in search of good french food and reasonable selection of alcohol and an honest beach in which I can simply wear swim trunks and swim (no bb guns, no fish fry, no ganesha sweet american corn, just a beach).