davethegrinch.net

Dave says:

Mysore is home to sandalwood, silk and incense. It’s also, despite what the guidebooks say, a bit of a shithole (excuse my Hindi). It also has the strangest scam artists in the whole of India thus far. We met about four of them and, to our own amazement, were caught in the same scam twice.

Our first scamming came whilst looking for an internet cafe. Out of the blue over ran this kid of about 18 who somehow read our minds and not only pointed us to one but came with us, took us up the stairs, passed the dog who he knew, talked to the woman working there and secured us a computer. He then left us alone. How strange, we thought, but then realized he probably worked there and was sent out to find customers. He hung around for an hour whilst we did our work, even fetching us pen and paper when we needed it. When we were finished, he asked us all sorts of questions about our travels and our guidebook and, ironically, gave us some pretty good tips about how not to get scammed in this town. He then told us about an incense market that is only open for three months a year because the flowers for pressing are only available seasonally. This was the last day and he would take us there if we wanted, he was going that way anyway to meet a friend from Scotland. It closed in 30 minutes so we should be quick. So off we went and as we walked our host impressed us with his knowledge of Bruce Springsteen, even singing the whole of “Dancing in the Dark”. First he said he would take us to a vegetable market and then on to the incense. Well, the vegetable market turned out to be a fly-ridden pit of a place which we quickly exited. As we started to near the incense market nothing was smelling right and our wariness level increased. Our travel noses did not deceive us - the incense market turned out not to be a market at all but a small shop that sold incense and oils. As soon as we saw this, we realized we’d been scammed and walked all the way there to get the hard sell from which the kid would get a kick-back. We made our excuses and left. The kid also made his excuses and left us, too. Nothing wasted but an hour of our time but the most amazing thing was that the kid had spent nearly two hours with us and, even if we had bought something, it would have been hard to spend more than a few hundred rupees. That’s a long sales cycle for a tiny cut of a small sale.

We spent the next day being constantly approached by similar aged boys, all very pleasant, good English and full of useful tourist information. But this time with superiority induced by our new scam-proof veneer, we used them for the information and said goodbye. Nobody mentioned incense or money and it was all very congenial.

On our last morning, over breakfast, we met a new friend of ours, Niall from Scotland, and he told us about this amazing scam where some kid had spent hours with him the day before to take him to an incense market. We laughed at our mutual naiveté and decided this was basis enough to be pals for a day and go sightseeing together.

That day, everywhere was closed due to an ad hoc strike over some civil unrest from the night before and we were having a hard time finding somewhere to get out of the heat for a beer. A passer-by stopped and pointed us in the direction of the only bar or restaurant in town that was open. Of we went, glad of the help. We had been in the bar about an hour when in walked the passer-by and, in the most fluent English, asked if he could join us. His name was Phillip, an English name given to him in boarding school in England. He was an orphan rescued by the church and sent overseas for his education. Now he has returned to India and works in the local orphanage. For about two hours he told us stories of how bad the situation is in India and all the work he does for kids as payment for his own salvation. Stories of abandoned babies they pull out of dumpsters and a hospital in Bangalore that operates on his kids for free. We were expecting to be hit up for money at every story but it never came. Gradually, we relaxed a little and had one of the most insightful conversations we’d had with a local to date. And then the word incense came up. The three of us gave each other the wink. The game was up. We called him on it. We told him about the scam with the kids and told him we were not interested at all. He was visibly upset by the actions of the kids and gave us some advice on how not to get scammed in this town (yet more irony and I know what you’re thinking). He worked in an incense factory that was government run so nobody got kick-backs. In fact, he was late for “bloody work” and we should come with him just to see. For some unexplained, Kingfisher beer inspired reason, we got up off our sweaty but shaded bums and head out into the hot sun. As soon as he took us through that exact same fly-ridden market, we realized we had been had again. And when his place of work turned out to be an incense shop just two doors down from the one we had visited yesterday, it just confirmed our own stupidity. Nevertheless, safety in numbers and just because, we went inside to be greeted by the “doctor” who immediately started his perfumed-oil sales pitch until I smelled either like a cheap whore or a gullible tourist. He knew that we knew that Phillip knew that we knew we’d been scammed and so the sales pitch was half-hearted and a little awkward for all concerned. Then I looked on the wall and noticed a picture of a young man winning a body building competition and to get the subject off oils, I asked who it was. Turns out, the “doctor” was Mr. India 1984 and once we started chatting about that all hopes of a sale disappeared and the guy was really quite pleasant. A few minutes later, we made our excuses and left. Phillip was outside looking a little sheepish - for a man of obvious intelligence he must feel pretty bad for having to scam people this way. Again, though, he invested three hours in us and would have earned himself very little even if we had bought something.

With both scammers, we had really good conversations and spent a long time with them so it makes us wonder why they do it. Sure it’s for the money but I also feel they just love talking to people. Yes, we feel stupid and yes, we will be more vigilant in the future and yes, we had one of the best afternoons since arriving here. Sounds strange but things here are really bizarre so this fits in quite nicely.

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 12th, 2007 at 2:23 am and is filed under Global Travels, India. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.