In Mysore

I'm sick. Between walking forever in the extreme heat of Hampi and putting up with Bangalore, my defenses are down. The hotel room last night didn't help. The fan was directly over me and gave me a sore throat. The bed was ridiculously hard even for India and it caused my body to ache. Everything just came together and made me feel sick. But don't worry, it's not nearly as bad as that first night. I'll be fine.

Lying in bed without a tv, made me really wish I had my CD player. I wrote the chorus of a song about it. Like to hear it? Here it goes:

I wish I had my CD play-er
I wish I didn't drop it in the toi-let
I wish I had my CD play-er
I can't-think-of-anything-that-rhymes-with toi-let
Not in this particular con-text.

I'm not much of a song writer. Even though I feel quite bad, I spent the day looking for a new hotel. I went to one and the guy told me that his hotel was full until Monday. I asked to leave my name. Just then a couple of Germans were on their way to check out. The guy made me wait for them, even though I was there first and it would've taken 2 seconds. I wasn't happy about it and I told him so. Ten minutes later he called me up to the desk and after checking for vacancies on Monday, told me that there were none.
I told him,"Why did you make me wait then?"
"Wait? Oh, wait (embarrased smile). Sorry."
"That's not very nice." My words may seem polite, but I can assure you that the tune was of someone about to explode into obsenities.

The rickshaw drivers are more agrresive here. It feels like they are making cat-calls.
"Hello friend, wanna ride?" Instead of:
"Hello baby, wanna ride? (wink)"

One guy selling a flute was even worse. He bothered me for 10 minutes. I finally told him that I had no need for a flute and I was never going to buy it. He replies, "You buy later." I answered, "No! I'm never gonna buy it!"

Fifteen minutes later I saw him again outside of my hotel and he tried to sell me the damn flute again. "Buy the flute. Buy the flute. You can give it to a girlfriend or a friend." With some firm words I convinced him that I didn't want it. He took about a step and a half until someone tapped him on the arm. It was me. "Buy my book. Buy my book. Come on, buy my book. You can give it a girlfriend or a friend." He responded in an understanding fashion, "Ok, ok." I thought about stopping there, but I wasn't upset that he was trying to sell me something. I know he's just trying to make a living. I was angry because he wouldn't leave me the fuck alone, so I kept at it, tapping him on the arm trying to seel the book in my hand. Eventually he seemed defeated and I gave up. It was quite a little spectacle; everyone was watching.

Mysore is a gritty city. It has beautiful buildings, but also trash everywhere. There are an inordinate amount of men in public compared to women. Most of the men have hard faces. I was thinking that a woman traveling alone might be intimadated by that. I was for about 30 seconds until I realized I live outside of DC, went to school in Baltimore, and my family's from the Bronx! Eh, I'm not worried.