Erikka Askeland: There's a lot to be said for living by our wits Published on Saturday 21 January 2012 01:01 THE bustling marketplace in Jodhpur was just waking up as I emerged from the car in the clear, bright winter sunlight. Cyclists and auto rickshaws veered past, while a friendly cow, who seemed as equally at home on the street as her human counterparts, seemed ruminatively happy to pose for my camera. The scene was a vibrant assault on the senses, with honking horns, the bright colours of the women's clothes, and the sultry smell of sweat, incense and spice. It took no time at all before the stallholders and shopkeepers had me clocked. It was probably my guide from the hotel in his distinctive uniform of sparkling white Nehru jacket and vivid orange turban that alerted them as he led me through the town's warren of narrow, mud-lined streets. The area is renowned for its textiles, made by the local women of this desert region when they aren't carting water on their heads for miles, or cooking. I had some rupees burning a hole in my pocket and fancied a shawl, and he knew exactly the place. I had no idea how I ended up spending £180. In retrospect, I reckon I was overcharged by about £50 if I correctly recall the prices the salesman at the shop mentioned as he performed his textile demonstration routine. This was a dazzling pitch combining local lore, shameless name dropping - apparently me and Sting have the same taste in cashmere - and hard sell. Really hard sell. We had to basically pay up and run off to shake him. In my head I questioned the final figure he gave as I handed over my debit card. But like coming up with the perfect retort the day after you have been insulted, I didn't really think it through that I had paid too much until I was waiting for a plane from Delhi. Yet I don't have any hard feelings against the charming salesman, who, like Arthur Daley, makes his living by spotting mugs like me. Rather I realise that I am made too soft by living in the polite, well-regulated land of John Lewis and consumer watchdogs, where there is probably some bylaw banning bartering, and queue-jumpers are violently frowned at. I enjoy having protections and safeguards for my own stupidity. Not that India doesn't have these - in fact Indian bureaucracy is both notorious and more British than sausage and mash. Ways of making rules from the days of the Raj means they are effected with such zeal and paperwork it would make Humphrey Appleby smirk. But in a country with a population of 1.2 billion, for every million that are proud, or are forced, to live by the earnest letter of the law there are ten million more that can get away with flouting them. India is a land of extremes. In the four days I was there last week, I saw families living in clay huts in the desert, in vast contrast to where I stayed, which was the most luxurious hotel I have every had the pleasure to visit. It could just be that there was an innocent explanation for the high prices - perhaps my Indian Arthur Daley was thinking in American dollars rather than British pounds, as he would have to be accustomed to totting up in his head the exchange rates on various world currencies. Later, as our group had a cup of tea and a flapjack with the British high commissioner in Delhi, the conversation touched on the fact that most Indians believe that, at long last, the 21st century is theirs. Inevitably, India's people are grasping educational opportunities, mastering IT, accountancy and the services economy. Meanwhile, our standard of living in the UK is slipping ever downward. We also discussed how negotiation, perhaps on an infuriating and relentless scale, is a key Indian skill. It is learned in the villages and marketplaces, and will increasingly be deployed at higher, international levels. Accustomed to determining the value of things on the spot, most Indians would probably shake their head at the dull certainties of price tags at John Lewis. As I avoided being run over by tuk-tuks and bicycles, it occurred to me that this is how the most of the world lives. And that maybe we should be prepared to learn again how to live by our wits