Yes, Sir...

"Good morning, Sir."
"What is your good name, Sir?"
"Are you finished with that, Sir?"
"Yes, Sir..."

India is a man's world. Everywhere you look, you see men: men working in the restaurants, men working in the hotels, men working in the internet cafes, souvenir stalls, at the train stations, as cab and rickshaw drivers, as tour guides, at museums, any other business one can imagine. Everywhere, men. And it seems that for every one job, there are 3 men to do it. There are always 3X the amount of employees necessary milling about in restaurants, for example.

When we first arrived in India, I noticed when we were greeted in the morning, it was, "Good morning, Sir," directed to Benjamin, rather than just, "Good morning," directed at both of us. I noticed when we were finished with a meal, the waiter would ask Benjamin if we were done or if we'd like anything else. When I paid a bill with my credit card, the hotel clerk would watch me remove the card from my wallet, yet would return the card and transaction slip to Benjamin. I began making a big show of noisily sliding my credit card across the counter and writing my name with a conspicuous flourish on the receipt. When someone would ask Sir Benjamin a question, I would answer, "Yes, I would like another Pepsi," or, "No, I'm not interested in a tour guide."

Once in a while the men humor me. They'll notice me standing there and after shaking Benjamin's hand, will extend a limp hand out towards me, a hand limp like a dead fish. It's more like a finger shake, really, as no full grasping of the hand takes place, as if I'd been out making cow paddies with the locals.

Occasionally, I've noticed at various guesthouses where we've stayed, that when I slip away to use the bathroom or retrieve something from our room, I come back to find Benjamin in a conversation with the hotel proprietor. When I sit down, he invariably departs our company. "What did he want?" I'll ask. Usually he's filling Benjamin in on the sites and things to do around town. Apparently, things I need not know or would not be interested in...

Of course, this invisible role I play here in India sometimes works to my advantage. I don't have to deal with the harassment of the touts, vendors, and rickshaw drivers near as much as Benjamin. I don't have to hold conversations with people when I'm not in the mood to chat.

Where are all the women? Most are at home, with the chores and the children. The only women I saw at work were out in the fields or hauling baskets of rock on their head at construction sites. The women, it seems, are doing all the manual labor... and they do it in style, wearing their elegant saris whether they're herding water buffalo or working at a gravel pit.

I've read in the newspaper about women's initiatives, getting them out in the work force and all of that. It would be a good thing, I think, to have a woman's touch in the cafes, restaurants, and hotels. Often, and this is from my perspective as a 'backpacker' so I'm not visiting top end places, but often the restaurants and internet cafes and shops are in disarray, with torn furniture and cords and empty wrappers and dust bunnies in the corner... Entering one is like walking into a giant gym locker with no thought, no attention to detail, none of the 'little things' that give a place atmosphere and charm.

India is a man's world, inside and out.