Some things about India you may want to know:
There are no helmets allowed in the movie theaters. They will tell you this over and over, in case you didn't hear them the first time. No helmets. You may not have a helmet, and they'll know this because you just got frisked twice, but just in case you were thinking about wearing one: NO HELMETS.
The children are not the future. Fuck Whitney Houston. She was obviously never mobbed by a crowd of poor kids grabbing her arm and patting her torso.
If you want to get a phone, they'll casually ask you for a passport photo as if you have a small stock on you at all times. I do now. Xeroxes of your passport are also invaluable. If you want to buy a cup of coffee, don't be surprised if the Barista asks you for a copy of your passport and a photo.
Those aren't dead dogs in the middle of the street. They are just sleeping. I'm shocked they don't get trampled by the cows. . . and there are cows everywhere. It's one thing to be shoulder to shoulder with the crowd in a city of 15,000,000 people, but being shoulder to shoulder with 15,000,000 people and an equal amount of cows is a whole other story. Look down often.
AC in the taxi costs extra. Taxis are my new roller coaster. The streets don't seem to have designated lines or directions of traffic in any given area. I don't understand why there aren't accidents every ten feet (or whatever that would be in metric). At any given time the street will be occupied by bicycles, rickshaws, autorickshaws, buses, big buses, pedestrians, cows, carts, carts on bikes, carts on bikes on buses, entire families on one scooter, infants driving mopeds, a dude with forty seven water-cooler-type containers balanced on his head and dogs licking their balls. Everyone drives wherever they fit and constantly every vehicle is ringing a bell or honkin a horn. Seatbelts are also a rare treat.
The exchange rate is maddening. Try not to look surprised when you hear the shampoo will be r220. I don't yet have the mental capacity for common household objects that have three digit prices. The phone was r1675 ($42.60 USD) with a call plan and an adapter that doesn't need an adapter. Unless I take it home, then I'll need an adapter for the adapter's adapter.
The most worn out letters on this keyboard in order of least to most faded are:
R, C, A, M, N and L
My Indian jetlag lasted exactly three hours and 15 minutes. My skin heals quick here too. The air smells like a smoke machine or maybe clay. I think there are minerals in the air. My body feels great (all manner of digestional wellness implied, thanks for asking).
The children are not the future. Fuck Whitney Houston. She was obviously never mobbed by a crowd of poor kids grabbing her arm and patting her torso.
If you want to get a phone, they'll casually ask you for a passport photo as if you have a small stock on you at all times. I do now. Xeroxes of your passport are also invaluable. If you want to buy a cup of coffee, don't be surprised if the Barista asks you for a copy of your passport and a photo.
Those aren't dead dogs in the middle of the street. They are just sleeping. I'm shocked they don't get trampled by the cows. . . and there are cows everywhere. It's one thing to be shoulder to shoulder with the crowd in a city of 15,000,000 people, but being shoulder to shoulder with 15,000,000 people and an equal amount of cows is a whole other story. Look down often.
AC in the taxi costs extra. Taxis are my new roller coaster. The streets don't seem to have designated lines or directions of traffic in any given area. I don't understand why there aren't accidents every ten feet (or whatever that would be in metric). At any given time the street will be occupied by bicycles, rickshaws, autorickshaws, buses, big buses, pedestrians, cows, carts, carts on bikes, carts on bikes on buses, entire families on one scooter, infants driving mopeds, a dude with forty seven water-cooler-type containers balanced on his head and dogs licking their balls. Everyone drives wherever they fit and constantly every vehicle is ringing a bell or honkin a horn. Seatbelts are also a rare treat.
The exchange rate is maddening. Try not to look surprised when you hear the shampoo will be r220. I don't yet have the mental capacity for common household objects that have three digit prices. The phone was r1675 ($42.60 USD) with a call plan and an adapter that doesn't need an adapter. Unless I take it home, then I'll need an adapter for the adapter's adapter.
The most worn out letters on this keyboard in order of least to most faded are:
R, C, A, M, N and L
My Indian jetlag lasted exactly three hours and 15 minutes. My skin heals quick here too. The air smells like a smoke machine or maybe clay. I think there are minerals in the air. My body feels great (all manner of digestional wellness implied, thanks for asking).
posted by Matthew Pazzol at 7:13 AM
5 Comments:
AND THE FOOD???
The food is incredible! The place we're staying at serves three vegitarian meals a day in the middle of this grassy field where all the artists gather and talk about what they're working on or where they adventured out to that. Luckily, this place is very careful about filtering out all their water an washing fruits and vegetables.
ohmygod i could eat indian food allday everyday. add a field to that and my head might explode. that is awesome.
Are you on an artists retreat or something? India is TOPS toppity-tops on my list of travel destinations - but whenever I say that to people, they look at me like I'm a renegade suicidal freak - is it as risky/scary/dangerous as people say it is?
Yes, unless you have a knack for dismantling bike bombs.
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