Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Who are you and How did you find me???

Again, I reinforce that the situation with the men is out of control. I can not even go the bathroom without someone approaching me and saying, “You are beautiful, where are you from?, blah, blah, blah. To some, this does not sound like something I should be complaining about, but it has reached an excessive level.  I would prefer for someone to not comment on how I look and comment on something else, but physical appearance the eyes see first and the psychological mind is last, especially with men. 
On the bus to Bikaner and after meeting someone in Jasalmer, I decided that I was not going to engage with men rather I would just ignore them.  I am always stopping and talking and being nice and this was the annoying thing in Jaselmear.  It  was such a small town and men would talk and gossip to one another.  I just wanted time to myself and decided I am not going to be nice and engage at ALL.
With this said, I am prepared to go stay with a couch surfer and have all their information ready to go.  I get off the bus and here comes a young kid-early twenties and looks Italian who says, “Hi, you sent a request with me on couch surfing."
I keep in mind that my couchsurfer, Yogendra is hosting me, but he is not in town. I told him I would be taking the evening train and planned on taking my own transportation to the hotel. 
This boy continues on saying that I sent him a message and that he is here to pick me up.  I know I sent three requests and had one message with another person-this young Italian looking guy was not any of the people I had messages.  He asks me to have chai so he can show me his profile and name.  We sit down and he shows me that he has a couchsurfing profile, but no message between us.  He continues to hang around and I am responding with little words to his questions. After my long bus ride, I just want to eat something before I head to the hotel.  
Of course he asks, "Can I accompany you to eat?   I say, “Sure”, but I am really thinking to myself, “Please just go away.”
This young boy seems to be a very happy person, a student in economics, a tour guide for Italians(loves Italy), and he speaks many languages.  We sit and speak Spanish and I still stare at him like, “Where did you come from and how did you know I was getting off that bus?” He asks if I would like to stay at his house because it is closer to the fort and tourist attraction and I obviously decline telling him I choose my hosts carefully.  He says, “No problem.” This is a common phrase for him.  He ends up giving me a ride back to my hotel, which I decide is okay after our conversation he seems pretty harmless.
The next day he wants to take me sightseeing with another couple of couch surfers, but as I should have expected the next day comes and the only couch surfer that shows up is him....
Priscilla trying to disengage from locals for a bit fails and I end up having my personal tour guide for my day in Bikaner. 

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