I think I have the unique opportunity to present the 'firang' version of the story. By a strange fate of luck, I am white-skinned and green eyed, usually mistaken for a foreigner if I keep my mouth shut, or absolve of all instances of my hindi phonetic roots.
Yes, I do get good service and more than a fair share fawning desis, but there is a flip side to it.
You are expected to pay more, everywhere, from tips to the waiters, to being fleeced by the cabbies, to the porters and touts everywhere.
Oh, holy reverse discrimination batman! In Mysore, my fine dusky Dravidan cousins refused to allow me to enter palaces and touristy places, lest I agree to pay the foreigners fare (10x what Indian citizens pay). A fairly intelligible smattering of Hindi refused to convince them of my Indianness, I was asked to pay up or show some ID.
What was ironic was a few Indian Americans in our group, of questionable origin, with dollars flashing in their wallets and American accents that can drive a Yank up the yankee doodle doo, were welcomed and asked to pay the Indian fare.
Goa is a mixed bag. White skin means precious moolah during the peak season.
Sidin, look at the bright (light?) side, Svetlana wouldn't offer massages to the whities.
