Varanasi Rube-icon

rube
n : not very intelligent or interested in culture [syn: {yokel},
{hick}, {yahoo}, {hayseed}, {bumpkin}, {chawbacon}]
(chawbacon? really?)

Rubicon
n 1: the boundary in ancient times between Italy and Gaul;
Caesar's crossing it with his army in 49 BC was an act
of war
2: a line that when crossed permits of no return and typically
results in irrevocable commitment [syn: {point of no
return}]

It's probably good for me to note that all of this takes place before last week's story, photos too.

The photos this week are only tangentially related to the story. Enjoy.
Varanasi Redux

Maybe the title says it all, maybe it doesn't. I got taken. And taken good. For about 30,000 rs. I fell for the most idiotic story I've ever heard. I knew it was bullshit when I heard it, but I still believed it, if that makes any sense. I could make this story much, much longer in an attempt to save face, but that would be less fun, so, in short:

1. Nearly terrified, practically gasping for air, just off my first train ride. Varanasi is not Delhi. And Delhi was not an easy adjustment. Hotel located and occupied, I lay motionless for the better part of an hour or two. I consult my new scripture, the Lonely Planet India guidebook (it's a pretty poor source of Ultimate Wisdom, but it'll do in a pinch). It warns you about touts. And Silk shops. But not the Chai - you should really drink the chai, no matter what else you hear.

2. I depart from my hotel with the intent to head down to the Ghats. It will be another day before I make it to the Ganga. I meet 'Viki' the (male) Nepalese art student. I immediately distrust him, because I'm supposed to. But I also immediately trust him, because I'm prone to trusting people beyond reason. After some coffee he convinces me to head to the mogul district to some silk shop because he's going to buy some stuff for his family. In fact, his dad gave him some money to do so. And, as it would happen, it's my lucky day! Everything in the mogul district will be heavily discounted (50% off!) on account of some festival that I've never heard of. Work is going to stop for a month, so everybody needs money now.

3. Many obvious signs of fraud later, I'd spent 15k on silk I didn't need. I wanted it though, because I told people at home I would buy them fabric. I even briefly entertained the possibility that I had gotten a good deal. I also spent another 15k on a harmonium. It turns out that wasn't such a rip off. Then I got drunk. Really drunk. And smoked a ton of cigarettes. And tipped 'Viki' for showing me such good things.

4. Two days later I go to Sarnath and then have lunch with Ranu - the guy who owns the silk shop. We actually have a pretty good conversation and he takes me around on his motorbike a bit. I think he must've felt a bit guilty for letting Viki screw me thusly. But not too guilty. Later we're eating dinner and sitting around his shop, Viki shows up, and immediately, for some reason, I'm looking at more stuff. Which I buy. Another 10k worth. At home I start to get a sinking feeling that what I bought wasn't worth anything close to what I bought it for.

5. While walking along the ghats, I meet another guide, Avinash, who will later get a lot of money from me, but he deserves it. We go to his family's silk shop, because I say I want to. He informs me that he gets a commission there (duh!). I start looking at some things (every shop has the same stuff more or less), they show me some things and quote 400rs, which is double what one should actually pay. I paid 800 for the same thing. So I tell them my story. A guy in the shop starts gesturing rapidly and describing 'Viki', whilst getting visibly angry. 'Viki's name is not 'Viki', it 'Hassan', and he repeated his whole BS story to me almost verbatim. I felt idiotic for falling for it, but then again, I'd felt idiotic for days for falling for it. The guy says if I go back to Ranu's shop and demand my money back, I'll get it all back, 100%.

6. So I do. Ranu calls up Viki who shows up, I refer to him as 'Hassan', and demand my money back, and I get almost all of it. Ranu goes into some sob story about having a very hard time getting it all on account of some festival, which apparently was real, Bakr Eid/Eid al Adha - my money had been spent on goats (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha). So I spend a bit of money on his stuff, at 25% of the price I'd previously paid. I got invited to watch the goats be slaughtered and eat them, but I declined. I also took the harmonium back, but I actually don't think I got screwed on it in retrospect, though I'm not sure *how* that is possible.

So more important to me than the money I almost lost, the money I eventually spent, and all the awesome motorcycle rides I got to take around the city, are the personal implications of this experience. Certainly there is much to be learned from this experience, and I've thought about it a lot. So I'll just try to sum it up, without a lot of blah blah.

1. 'Viki' is a metaphor for anything in life that meets some immediate need but ultimately leaves one fucked. Addictions of all kinds fall into this category. So called 'co-dependent' relationships as well.

2. On some level, you are getting what you need from 'Viki'. I needed very much to not be alone in a foreign place. I wanted to feel comfortable and believing him was the easiest way to achieve this. Getting totally blot-o helped too. So did spending a lot of money.

3. The needs that lead us to embrace a 'Viki' are visceral and will cause us to ignore logic, ignore advise, and look for corroboration to support our story. All the while it feels wrong though. The feeling will eat you up inside, as it did to me. I spent hours worrying about being cheated. See, I knew I had been, but I kept trying to discount it. Cognitive dissonance, they call it.

4. We need to be vigilant when it comes to 'Viki's in our personal lives. Always it is not the Viki that is the problem though, it is the underlying unmet need. 'Viki's are only signposts that point at gaping wounds, as of yet unrecognized or not fully congnized. One can only rid oneself of the 'Viki' and keep the next one at bay by dealing with whatever the need is.

5. You're on your own for figuring out how to do that. Really, I don't know. I think it varies from thing to thing. For me, in this instance, I think direct engagement vis-a-vis traveling alone is a great way for me to deal with my shit, even if I do lose a few Rupees along the way.

Where does getting my money back factor into the lesson? It doesn't really, it was just dumb luck. I'd tell the same story whether I'd gotten it back or not. It'd just be slightly less interesting.