In Haridwar - What Surprise Me More
"There was nothing surprises me" I say to myself, when suddenly I saw something new. Group of beggars stood in a row before some shops about receiving free food from the owner. Suddenly they began to anticipate a fight about who will be in that line first. "Well, after all," and I quickly pulled out my camera back to the light of day. Quickly point it, choose a good composition, target and... directly in front of the lens appeared to me shaggy head of a beggar. Food already got, but I wanted something from me. But I wanted to photograph the strkanice. I try to avoid him, but his head is still no more than 30 cm in front of my lens. I finally got rid of him, but in that time brawl ended and I took a picture of a bunch of people hanging around outside the shop. "Damn" I say quietly, "I could take a picture of at least Beggar face a lot of close, but I still wanted that fight. And so I have nothing. "
Magical Grandfather
But then I started to laugh to himself. So I have here a moment ago mudroval me in this country is nothing surprising, and suddenly I was mad at myself that I did not have my camera at hand and thus was not responsive. After all, in this country is perhaps surprising all, just look around and that's when you see something that would make him normally shocked at home. And so I decided such a small experiment. I'll go down the street, I'll look around and try to notice things that in our culture were atypical, but here are quite normal and then try to write.
I'm going down a narrow street lined with shops offering everything possible and impossible goods. To pan, pants, canister for holy water, old rusty tools? You got it. vendors sitting on the ground and call you "come here". A salesman, a boy no older than 15 years, stood before me and asked "what do you want? I've got everything, "and points to shop with substances. To CD, but it is too expensive for you? Within a minute, you burn it helpful salesman.
In this narrow lane wide not more than 2.5m people walking everywhere present cows, hungry dogs plus a wide cyklorike. Such a trike that you can ride anywhere. We all know the English rikov© perhaps the only "hey sir." And all of them think that you just want to ride even though just before you have already rejected about 30 other offers. In all this chaos suddenly starts honking bike. High whistle horn is deafening and then bolting it all, whether it is better off.
I feel so empty stomach and stopping at a cookshop. Opened fire on him and blown oil in a vessel very similar tools for panning gold. Walls kitchens are completely black and greasy in the back corner of a small table and bench him. gave my pakora, vegetables in batter. They are tasty and relatively little when hot. Indian sweaty in dirty shirt whose color was perhaps once gave light pre Pakora warm in hot oil, then okapal and put into a bag of newspapers. So this is definitely the worst I've ever pakora had blown the fat is really disgusting and so I still buy a few apples, let the taste somewhat neutralized.
I'm going away, shops and slowly dwindle around me appeared a flock of children. They show that they want money, they are hungry, so I give them the pakora with apples. Originally it was my dinner, but it's ugly and it helps them. They're a little disappointed that they have food and not money, but at least some of them express satisfaction.
Motorika passing around me. Definitely stop and say, "Hey sir" I say. At that moment motorika stopped, the driver leaned out and said 'hey sir. " A little farther on I see at any shop beg half-naked sadhu. Properly these are holy men who sit somewhere in the mountains and meditate. These here are doing them but shame. Sit, beg and smokes marijuana, which is enough, in the streets, in restaurants, in the fields, everywhere. I walked past him unnoticed, when I suddenly tugged at his shoulder and asked for money. Nearby, a woman sat on the ground and nursed a child under the sari, a beggar with a strangely pok™ivenma feet rode in a wheelchair made €‹€‹from a piece of board on which was attaching a wheel bearing. Young man on earth strewn garbage spread a cloth on it now sleeps in the shade of the house. Another bearded beggar shouted at me and pointed at his empty bowl. I almost stepped on a dead rat, so I woke up the sleeping flock flies that flew all around me. Stout mule pulled wooden barrow, on which were piles of garbage.
Magical Grandfather
But then I started to laugh to himself. So I have here a moment ago mudroval me in this country is nothing surprising, and suddenly I was mad at myself that I did not have my camera at hand and thus was not responsive. After all, in this country is perhaps surprising all, just look around and that's when you see something that would make him normally shocked at home. And so I decided such a small experiment. I'll go down the street, I'll look around and try to notice things that in our culture were atypical, but here are quite normal and then try to write.
I'm going down a narrow street lined with shops offering everything possible and impossible goods. To pan, pants, canister for holy water, old rusty tools? You got it. vendors sitting on the ground and call you "come here". A salesman, a boy no older than 15 years, stood before me and asked "what do you want? I've got everything, "and points to shop with substances. To CD, but it is too expensive for you? Within a minute, you burn it helpful salesman.
In this narrow lane wide not more than 2.5m people walking everywhere present cows, hungry dogs plus a wide cyklorike. Such a trike that you can ride anywhere. We all know the English rikov© perhaps the only "hey sir." And all of them think that you just want to ride even though just before you have already rejected about 30 other offers. In all this chaos suddenly starts honking bike. High whistle horn is deafening and then bolting it all, whether it is better off.
I feel so empty stomach and stopping at a cookshop. Opened fire on him and blown oil in a vessel very similar tools for panning gold. Walls kitchens are completely black and greasy in the back corner of a small table and bench him. gave my pakora, vegetables in batter. They are tasty and relatively little when hot. Indian sweaty in dirty shirt whose color was perhaps once gave light pre Pakora warm in hot oil, then okapal and put into a bag of newspapers. So this is definitely the worst I've ever pakora had blown the fat is really disgusting and so I still buy a few apples, let the taste somewhat neutralized.
I'm going away, shops and slowly dwindle around me appeared a flock of children. They show that they want money, they are hungry, so I give them the pakora with apples. Originally it was my dinner, but it's ugly and it helps them. They're a little disappointed that they have food and not money, but at least some of them express satisfaction.
Motorika passing around me. Definitely stop and say, "Hey sir" I say. At that moment motorika stopped, the driver leaned out and said 'hey sir. " A little farther on I see at any shop beg half-naked sadhu. Properly these are holy men who sit somewhere in the mountains and meditate. These here are doing them but shame. Sit, beg and smokes marijuana, which is enough, in the streets, in restaurants, in the fields, everywhere. I walked past him unnoticed, when I suddenly tugged at his shoulder and asked for money. Nearby, a woman sat on the ground and nursed a child under the sari, a beggar with a strangely pok™ivenma feet rode in a wheelchair made €‹€‹from a piece of board on which was attaching a wheel bearing. Young man on earth strewn garbage spread a cloth on it now sleeps in the shade of the house. Another bearded beggar shouted at me and pointed at his empty bowl. I almost stepped on a dead rat, so I woke up the sleeping flock flies that flew all around me. Stout mule pulled wooden barrow, on which were piles of garbage.