playing the game

If you've ever wanted to be shown all the ways you can possibly be ripped off, come to India. One could pack a decent-sized book with all the scams one may encounter here: taxi drivers tell you your hotel has burned down just so they can take you to another hotel that pays them a commission; individuals approach you at free museums claiming you forgot to buy an admission ticket, which they happily collect for; when you finally find a rickshaw with a working meter (most of them work; the drivers just claim they don't), the drivers take you three times the distance to your actual destination, claiming they misunderstood where you wanted to go. My guide even tells of a scam that occurred before the police cracked down on it: restaurants would poison the food of tourists so that they would be sent to a local hospital. The hospital would then reimburse the restaurant a part of the insurance money.

Arriving, finding your hotel, navigating the public transportation system, and finally stepping into that park or museum you've been looking forward to is a trying process in any foreign country. When there are numerous individuals at every step of the process trying to make money off of you by feeding you false information, it's easy to become daunted. I reached a low point yesterday.

I had decided to walk between two relatively close sites in Delhi. Unfortunately, a bridge for only vehicles blocked my path, and forced me to hire a middle-aged man to take me the ten-minute ride in his rickshaw. "How many rupees?" I asked him. He promised me, in fluent English, that he would use the meter. Once in the rickshaw, comforted by being able to watch the progress of my fare on the meter, the man began telling me about himself. He explained that he has lived in Delhi his whole life. He shared his favorite parts of India, which he travels every year, and why those places mean so much to him. He told me his son collects coins, and I offered him a quarter from the US. His son would be visiting tomorrow, and would be very happy to find the coin waiting for him. He was even planning a big celebration for his son. "You can ask me anything about Delhi," he told me, "I will give you an honest answer."

I opened up to him too, seeing no reason not to since I had my current fare right in front of my face--no reason to worry about the possibility of this open, nice guy ripping me off, right? Wrong. I should have known things weren't as they seemed when he acted like he misunderstood my destination and headed in the wrong direction. I caught him in the act, but decided, instead of turning around, to go to another site I wanted to see in the direction he took.

We finally arrived, and I thanked him for the ride and conversation as I withdrew money to pay the 67 rupee fare. "Sixty-seven rupees," I said. He responded: "Oh no, sir. The meter is only a gauge for distance. You need to multiply that number by five." Multiplying 67 rupees by five means I owed this guy eight dollars--at least two times more than any conceivable rickshaw ride around the city could cost, not considering the fact that he even went the wrong way. I told him that price was entirely unfair, and that I thought 100 rupees would be more than fair. He looked at me in the eyes and said, "Sir, that is simply not enough. This meter does not show your fare; it needs to be multiplied by five." I told him I would only give him 100 rupees and he said the words I have already heard and been confused by several times: "Sir, I have never wanted money. I will accept what you will give me, but I ask that you be fair." I swallowed my pride (and my common sense), thought about the good conversations we had about him and his family, and handed him 200 rupees. "If I give you any more, I'm going to have to walk home," I told him. He accepted.

Walking away from the man, I was furious. I was frustrated that I had been ripped off once again. But, even more, I was upset that someone had gained and betrayed my trust so overtly. I wanted to be able to trust people, to listen to and believe what they told me about themselves. I took it personally.

While fuming, I stepped into a nice statue shop, where I was greeted by a reserved young man. I looked for a few minutes, then began to walk out when the man said, "Please know that we will give you 40% off of anything in the store. That is just how it is done here in India." For some reason the man's words resonated with me. It is an assumption in India that things are listed as being more expensive than they are; it is an assumption that they will be bargained down. These assumptions are part of India's culture and society, and here I was taking them as personal attacks and betrayals of my trust. I decided I could either be frustrated with this aspect of India, or I could learn about it and play along. Considering how useful the ability to bargain would be while traveling through my next destinations (Africa and China), not to mention in life in general, I decided I would learn to play along.

Realizing there was no shame in getting the lowest price possible, and that I had little to lose if I tried to offer a price too low, I went to work. I wandered into a packed, chaotic underground market and decided to go shopping for the first item on my shopping list: tape. I only needed a piece, and I eventually found one at an electronics shop. The guy wanted 100 rupees--yes, $2.50 for a piece of tape. After a minute of bargaining, I walked out of the store with a free piece of tape (the guy told me he was only kidding with me--that he didn't actually want me to pay for it. That's after he asked me for 100, 80, and, finally, 50 rupees).

It was only a piece of tape, but it was like a big shiny trophy to me.

When it was finally time to go home, I walked to the rickshaws, knowing that I would pay no more than 100 rupees for the ride back home. "How much to take me to Vasant Vihar?" I asked. "150 rupees." "I'll give you 60." "No way," the first driver told me. "Okay, thank you," I said, and walked away. After this conversation repeated itself with three drivers, I decided I was probably shooting too low. In the end, I got home for a fair price to both me and my driver. From what I've heard from the locals, a foreigner getting a fair price on a rickshaw is a pretty big deal.

Earlier tonight I went out with the interns working with the Clinton Foundation here in Delhi. One of them shared her perspective on being ripped off in India. She considered that India is packed with people, each of whom is on his or her own. Many of these people are extremely poor, and on a daily basis watch people who bought a trip to India for a small fortune that could change their lives forever. Is it really any wonder that they try to earn an extra few rupees off of these foreigners?

I suppose, in the end, that I'm grateful that Indians give foreigners a chance to use bargaining to defend what they have. In many of the other countries I've visited (Chile, Colombia, and Brazil stand out), violence is viewed as a much more effective tool for getting one's hands on a foreigner's wallet.