Beautiful desert??!

“On Friday, I have a photo shoot I have to attend too. The photographer will take pictures of Sharath and I. We’ll be driving on the Jaipur highway in my blue antique car and we’ll stop to take pictures as soon as we find a desert setting. Would you like to come?” Nitya asked. “Of course – I’ve never been to the desert” I replied.
Friday arrived and we all prepared ourselves for the photo shoot. Nitya and Sharath dressed in white; they both looked gorgeous. The Wedding Planner, Makeup Artist, Photographer, Nitya, her Mother, Sharath, and I got into 3 separate cars when it suddenly began to rain. “What are we going to do now?” I asked the Photographer. Nitya began pacing back in forth in a panic. “Don’t worry about it” replied the Wedding Planner “It’s my problem, I should have verified the weather before organizing this event”. The Photographer began to giggle, “You are the Monsoon Wedding Planner, this was bound to happen”. We all began to laugh since Amrish, the Wedding Planner, designed the sets for Bollywood’s popular movie “Monsoon Wedding”. The Wedding Planner and the Photographer decided to move forward with the photo shoot, they crossed their fingers for better weather and sunshine.
The beautiful desert scene wasn’t what I had anticipated. We pulled over at a dodgy truck stop with hills and sand in the background. I stepped out of the car almost landing my foot in a heap of cow poop. I held my breathe in result of the foul smells and roadside garbage. I stood back as Nitya and her fiancé posed for pictures. Cars began pulling over in curiosity. “What’s going on?” they must have thought. “They must be famous! Maybe they’re posing for an upcoming commercial, or better yet a Bollywood movie!” I began panicking as I realized that I had to go pee. Unfortunately, there were no bathrooms nearby. I saw a farm across the highway and decided that would be the ideal location. Nitya came with me to be my guard. As I began pulling down my pants, a curious mother and her children came out of the bushes. “Go pee over there” she recommended in Hindi. I took her advice as I stepped over mounds of millions of ants – YUCK! I tried three times to pee, but I couldn’t – I was bladder shy. It wasn’t helping that the Indian woman and her children were starring at me. “Nitya, please tell her to stop looking at me! What does she want to see? A White bum?” Finally, Nitya shooed them away and I peed in relief.
On the way home, I decided that I wanted to ride in the blue antique car with Nitya, Sharath, and her friend Jitin. We sang songs to our songless radio and ignored the Indian stares. Our car halted to traffic. We sat patiently in fumes while we crawled closer to a blocked intersection. As I looked up I saw police officers waving traffic forward and side to side. As soon as I made eye contact with the police officer he specifically waved our car to the side of the road. “Crap” I thought. “I should have kept my eyes down”. He walked towards our parked car. “Can I see your registration papers?” he asked. “Phew… He didn’t ask for my passport or ID” I thought. Jitin and Sharath explained that we didn’t have registration papers since it was an antique car. The police officer smirked while looking down Nitya’s top. Jitin handed over 500 rupees (12$) and the police officer waved us through. I couldn’t believe he pulled us over: A.) Because there was a White passenger in the car (Me!) and B.) Because we were driving a nice antique car – He assumed that we had money. Police Officers are corrupt in India, they take people’s money when they can, and pocket it for their own benefit.