Poke

Well it finally happened. I got poked. I think usually it is more of a grab, but for me it was just a poke. Still not sure if it was an accident or on purpose. I've been told that it is always on purpose, but I am still not convinced.

Yesterday I took a friend to the very crowded, Monday Market. Lots of pushing happens. Ladies in burquas push just to move down the lane. And mix in with that a motorcycle, some school kids, and men. We are all trying to find good deals on cloth, fuzzy sweaters, and shoes. I told my friend that she should hold her hands up around her chest just as a layer of protection. Sometimes people take the opportunity of a crowd to reach out and touch someone, so we both were walking with our arms kind of clutching our purse straps. And then it happened. The poke. A beggar man had his palm out for money and reached up to poke me on the shoulder. Only he didn't hit my shoulder. He hit a softer spot of my upper body that I was trying to protect. I swung my elbow towards him but didn't make contact. Then as I walked away, I smiled. It was comical to me for some strange reason. Here I was trying to protect my friend and be an expert in street smarts, and I am the one who gets poked.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Thank you for writing again. Can't believe you've been in India so long and never even been poked. Man, it's the life to be a married woman in India ;).
December 7, 2010 at 6:33 AM
Liz said…
Yeah, I echo Kim. I definitely got poked (more like grabbed) - and if it didn't happen more than once, it was certainly attempted more than once. It was those newspaper boys - they scared me!
December 7, 2010 at 11:25 PM
jessica said…
I can remember the first time that happened to me and I was running down the street chasing the guy yelling you are disgusting!! Ah good times!
December 11, 2010 at 2:37 AM
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