Out of Place - Jaipur, 1998, The Wild Dogs of India

He was the only American in the hotel he knew, a few miles outside Jaipur, India (also known as Pink City). He did not know either one of the guests, said hello to the grounds-men, they always seemed to be cutting something in the morning, such as: cutting bushes, cut the grass around the hotel, under the window on his room. He also said hello to the hotel security guard, always out in front of the hotel, and the female domestic workers, in which it cleaned his room, wearing a long light green silky dress over her ankles, with a dull purple stripes, and a green light dark scarf seemed to belong, that the clothes on their shoulders to the knees. She was very thin, long sharp nose, thick eyebrows, and had the skin like rawhide, she had not, it is the skin, it would be a good-looking woman for her age, perhaps thirty or a few years older. He noted there were a few small groups of Europeans in the five-star hotel, along with several other groups, singles and couples. They paid little attention to him if he even to them. It would be fair to say most people in the hotel, he would simply on the stairs to a smile as he, they were all strangers to another.

His room was on the third floor, in the upper area of the hotel. His room in front of a shack tent village as that of the garden of the hotel, and parallel to a dirt road in front on the side of the hotel.

As one went outside, through the doors of the hotel, on the other side of the road, and on the right side of the door, was a boxed shrine, there was a statue in the small box painted red, which a Hindu would open the two small doors, fold your hands in prayer and bowing his head inside of the statue in prayer and meditation, he would box and go his way. He had found that the several days he was in the hotel.

Sidney Muller, was his name, from Minnesota. He came a long way to see the few monuments, within a seven to one hundred and fifty miles radius of Deli, around the Taj Ma Hal, and in Jaipur, the Palace of Winds "(or, as the Pink Palace ). In the sun, which glistened Pink City. The sun seemed to drop like rain upon them.

Motor cars and cars zoomed around the big cows, the animals to be pampered, at least in India, and especially on religious grounds who went aimlessly from the city, the streets, eat what they have seen, even to the gates, and door cafes and shops, not even by a car, motor or cart. A small miracle in itself, thought , Sidney, they proved to be everywhere and in every way.

He had forgotten to get out of his window onto the bidonvilles dark and empty, like the place was the night before, in the middle of the city, a few miles away with the stray dogs, and hundreds of bodies lie around on the lawn and near the Pink Palace. A few policemen walking up and down, but not interfering in any particular.

"I'll do it," he confirmed from the window. "Yes, I go over there," he reiterated.

Then he sat back in his chair and went back to reading the book, "The Jazz Age," Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald fall to sleep and wake up in the vicinity of 2.00 clock, in the morning, he washed his face, and under the direction of the hotel stairs to the lobby.

The night manager was behind the lobby desk, bowed slightly to Mr. Müller, greeting him a distance. He was an old man, very short, broad shoulders, dark skin.

"Can I help you, Mr Smith?" He knew Mr. Mueller's name, perhaps he is the only American in the hotel, and it is the longest of most tourists, a few days so far, the majority of visitors came for two or three days and left.

"Sir," said Sidney Muller, "it is very hot weather tonight, I'm going for a Night walk. "

With the expression on the old manager's face, he liked the U.S., the dignity, he never complained, as the Japanese, and gave advice, in contrast to the few South Americans who were there, and said to him, unlike the Europeans, who only spoke when spoken to, or wanted something, especially the French and Greek.

On the other hand, Sidney seemed like the way the oldtimers, the hotel Manager, felt about a hotel manager, who proudly pointed to his face. A face, that was crude and heavy, with deeply carved into wrinkles. His hands were big, and his cauliflower ears, like a boxer.

like Sidney, The manager rushed around the desk and opened the door for him, after which they are looking for, "Be careful," he said disfigured in a serious tone, "there are many stray dogs, and do not go near the slums, let the guard know you are walking through the grounds, we ask that you sir, ok? "

Sidney shook his own head and said yes, but he had no intentions of course, not the town, the slums, that was why he made the hotel at 2:00 clock in the first place.

The manager stood in the doorway of the hotel, the observation of Sidney in conversation with the guard. Sidney, on the other hand, saw this from the side of his right eye, he could watch the old timers him behind the glass doors, another maid, which he had seen, but was not the one who cleaned his room, she was behind the manager, folding towels, ready to clean, and re-supply of rooms empty. She had a vacuum cleaner in her car, a few rags in his grip and aerosols are most likely to scent the room, as they cleaned.

"You have to stay away from the road, who knows the danger out there?" said the guard, in middle age, tall and thin, had a blue T - shirt on that said, 'Hotel Security Guard. "He looked to Sidney a mandatory conscious, if not pious is. Then he went on the red box where the shrine has been saved, as Sidney went the opposite way to the tents of the shanty town. He had a light jacket, more like a wind jacket (if the rain), packaged in his left arm, he went up to the street, more of a gravel road, at this point neither the guard nor manager could see him, and the road was the village.

The tent village was under the open sky in many places there was a crowd of people sleeping on cots, and cribs, and dogs sleep in cots, and stray dogs walking about in the distance, smelling food.

He looked on, a dog's eyes open, beneath a cot near him, he muttered, "Boy, there are a lot of dogs here ..." and he could smell the sweat of humanity all over him, he filled the air.

A dog needs his scent, it was different, perhaps from the sweet soap of the hotel, and he whispered, just under his breath, "not another ..." Then he looked back on the dog under the cot, eyes wide open, his eyes, the dogs, and that was not good. Then, in the moment, a cat ran past one of the other dogs from a distance, so that the dog under the cot, to appear before Sidney unnoticed.

"Yes," he said in a low tone and added: "I should always be from here," he was afraid to look at the hotel, which he apparently wanted to, but forced himself not to do, not allowed the dog to attack him again unnoticed.

He could feel the inside of his inners, go head, with a strange sense of tightening. The dog looks at him, pace before him, not for him to go to the hotel, without confrontation. And now two other dogs approaching.

The brave dog, under the cot, but it was a few meters in front of him, the other dogs approaching twenty feet or so.

Sidney saw the other two dogs, "Yeah!" he said, as he had expected when they are in any case, he remained in this position.

There were a few arc lights and the street, a few of the hotels, the moon was almost full, so the visibility for the dog and Sidney for a night was kosher for a fight.

The mass of humanity, sleeping remained so, though, and the few loud shouts to the dog Sidney scary approach, not to interfere if they are disturbed, perhaps even on the dogs to do their thing, so they could from what he had left, then Sidney thinking for some reason, Sidney had learned from his many travels, in the Third World, the poor often seem to feel that they are the poor the right to be when it comes to their advantage what does not belong to them in the name of justice, sense of humanity, the World, God and people, they have wronged, by bad.

The young man shouted something, but a lowering of his voice to soothe the dog, or set low to not tower over the dog, he enraged the dog. Now the other two dogs were right behind the brave, as if they were his guards.

Nobody in the slums of the city looked, Sidney, and if the eyes on him, he has not noticed, and at this point, he said: What difference does it make, I'm on my own. Then the two dogs began barking, the brave and growled, snarled, showing his teeth, his upper gums. He was hungry, and he knew now, he had the advantage of the edge. The

Attack

The first dog, the brave, one, from under the nearby cot, went into a semi-circle around him, on his way, not in order to escape him. The other two remained behind him, tuned each other, with a lot of knowingness, so it seemed.

part time, at this time (with breaks), Sidney was in conversation with the dog now, in a deep voice, but the dog obviously does not understand a thing, and it appeared it was not really comforting, his focus was fully to kill the attack to be.

"You damned young fool," he called himself, "of course I have to fight the dog now!" He added to his screaming, "Go back!"

They are sharp to him, to a stand still position, the brave and snarled, while the other two behind him, yelped, halfhazardly.

There was no wind, he threw a hand gesture to the dog as if it were a sign of the attack, Sidney was a defensive fighter, so he took the dog to do his attack first, so he opposes them, and attack on the rest, so that the dog open and vulnerable for a second, and that is all that he figured he needs.

Attack ...

The dog jumped to Sidney, he was about two and a half meters from toe to top of head, about the same size as his comrades, but thin, he hit him a square blow, a blow smashing thrust into the nose of the animal, a powerful smash, with a tight fist, like a rock, his ankle extending outwards tight against his skin. Then came a kick, a millisecond after the shock, it was as if it was next to a simultaneous, automatic Sidney's name. And his sharp shoes wedged into the ribs of the dog, Snap, and the dog fell backwards, lost his wind.

The dogs were frigid behind the brave, it looked as if they were also close to starvation, and Sidney knew that they were desperate for a pound of flesh, his flesh, but he knew they were weak, their fur was of a rustic color dirty, you can not really say what it was natural color.

Sidney also knew his neck was safe, the dogs were too short to jump that high, unless they dragged him to the ground, so that he can not protect. On the other hand, it was too late to play dead, and that would not be with these dogs, they were also hungry. It was up to his courage and skills in karate.

He wrapped his cloak tightly around his forearm, and dangled it before the little dog and the dog has his second jump, his jaws clamped on and in the jacket, and now forearm, and Sid the dog lifted a few inches, allowing its body to stretch, to which he has no influence, power or force, he has to lose the dogs ear, and sold with a handle, twisted and pulled on him, he winced as though it were a thread, and he tried to rip him on the rounds, and he has the ear ripping three quarters of the skull, dogs, and look in the dog is beautiful soft eyes, he took his two fingers and pushed her hard and in the shining marble, the dog is on the ground whimpering, blind. He pulled into the earth to get his balance again, as the other two dogs ready to attack.

And in this moment, who showed, took some stones and threw them on the two dogs, and they ran out (and are still all on for about a baby bed asleep, as if they were dead).

"Young gentlemen," he called to Sidney, "is the best back to the hotel, in case the dogs more courage and back."

Meeting both on the head, they are strong and fast in the lead on the way to the hotel, in a minute Sidney could see the lights of the hotels, the front door, where he was the manager, it gave him some consolation.

As soon as the hotel doors, the Guard began to walk on the small Hindu shrine, opened the crate, as Sidney was behind him, and the Hindu his hands in a prayer position, like Sidney, and both have, thanks to their God.

"The sun is in a few hours, Mr Smith," said the manager in the lobby, as it went through Sidney, worn-out, pale as a ghost, sweating like a pig, "you should get to the regular time, say, 7.00 clock, sir? "he asked.

"They joke," said Mr Smith, and she laughed, as well as Sidney slowly and with much effort to follow the steps to his third floor room and collapsed on the bed.

3-2-2009

 

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