Rishikest Day 2: You know you're a tourist when...

The second day was characterized by two things: 1) lots of pictures, and 2) classical tourist mistakes. After having breakfast, Meli and I walked along the river bank. In route to Laxman Julha, the neighboring city, we met
Lashi Baba (in the red), who accurately guessed Meli's Iranian background and invited us to have some chai. Typically we would refuse, but we gladly accepted the offer because: a) it was in an open space, b) we were in dire need of fuel, and c) tea was being prepared by a lovely boy, aged 12, whose name escapes me (in the white and brown shirt). Btw-the little girl is in the photo Sona, the boy's niece.

Here is where the photo extravaganza began. Left and right people greeted us, inquired about our country of origin, and requested pictures (if you recall a previous post, I mentioned that Indians are fascinated by tourist, especially "White" tourist). Some went as far as asking "Can we take a picture shaking hands?" (This one make me feel as though I was an ambassador to the US lol- which technically I am, but you get what I mean). At first I didn't know how to feel about it, but considering that I, and every other national geographic photographer, takes pictures of Indian people without consent, their request seemed like a courteous and fair exchange (ha ha). In fact, it became fun once I started asking to take pictures with them, in return.

Following tea, we proceeded onto Laxman Julha. This was not intended to be a hike, but it turned into one. Lashi Baba had mentioned that the Full Chooti (small waterfall) was about 3km up- which didn't seem like a long distance- so we decided to give it a gander in our chanclas/shoes --which we ruined. We hiked for about an hour to the small waterfall, instead of hiring a taxi; this was tourist mistake number 1. Minus the heat, humidity, ever-present threat of an attack by a monkey, and the lack of appropriate shoes, it was worth it.

So onto mistake number 2... as we were descending from the hike to the first waterfall, we met four men who kindly offered to drive us up to the "big" waterfall, which was located 2 km up the mountain. Considering that we were without a taxi and energy, we accepted their offer. The waterfall was breathtaking.

I call getting in a car with four men a mistake, not because they were bad people, but because it probably violates some "tourist rules of engagement" as they pertain to women. But what were we to do? Meli's chancla ripped, we were 6 kms away from our guesthouse, no taxis were in sight, and night was falling upon us-- we needed a ride. What sucked was that, the guys, who had promised to return us to the city by 6:30pm for the Arti ceremony, were so involved in their personal fun that they neglected to follow through on their promise on top of dropping us off a ways out of the town we were staying in.

Lastly, I think mother nature scolded us with her heavy rain... lol As we were walking to the guesthouse, it began to pour. We had to run home in about 3 inches of water- at this point my chanclas didn't mind it because they were already ruined. I should have paid attention to the signs (i.e. we were eaten by mosquitoes, it was humid, etc.), but instead, Meli and I decided to hike in non-hiking sandals, to forgo the taxi, and to get in the car with perfect strangers. All and all, we are glad that beside their Justin Bieber and Akon loving ways, they were respectful and gracious enough to give us a ride; even if it was hours after.