Random Observations- part 2. The India series.

My favorite thing about the Indians are the way they nod their head to say ok. It reminds me of a bobblehead doll. The sides of their head bounce off of their shoulders, rather than nodding forward and backwards like us. Basically, the first time I saw someone do this, I thought they were shaking their head no. Apparently this confusion carries over to indicating no, which is a slight tilt of the head forward. Im sure you have all heard that the left hand in India is considered very dirty because they, well, you know, and so you must never point, gesture, hand over something, take something, eat or touch someone with the left hand. To further complicate things, there are practically no silverware to speak of, so you rip off a piece of chappati (bread like dry thin naan) with your right hand, using every finger despite its dexterity, and scoop up the wonderful sauces that dominate the food here. Its a seriously messy ordeal. They also never touch their lips to the cup they are drinking from if the liquid is cold, if i understand this correctly. Vicky could drink water from my Nalgene while riding a camel, for gods sake. these people are seriously talented. The red dot that we associate with Indians indicates that they prayed this morning in a temple, and a yellow dot helps to, as Vicky explains, "cool your brain". This is interpreted by me in many ways. THere are water pumps for local use all over the place, which is where people cool off in the bloody hot summer, which is exactly where i am now, still carrying around that damn coat for my Kili climb. Dumb. I was complaining about the mud splashed up on my legs after a baby-monsoon storm in Udaipur, and Vicky told me to go rinse off at a highly populated water pump. I got some looks when i walked up, but then they helped me pump the water, and when I bent down to wash my legs, they even poured some on my head to cool off my head and neck. Cows wander the streets here like revered pigeons- they are absolutely everywhere, people ignore them for the most part, drive around them without any irritation whatsoever. They have nice little necklaces and painted forheads to indicate if they are owned by someone, but for the most part, they are unowned, and are fed like stray dogs by anyone and everyone. Oh, and the driving. These people looove horns. THey just love em. ON the back of all trucks, there is a sign that says "horn ok please". How can they incourage this madness? Honking here is a different philosophy from in the states. Its absentminded, just a passing thought, rather than a indication of rage. People who are honked at dont really react either. I asked VIcky if his feet ever get run over while walking in narrow streets with the zooming motorbikes. He laughed at me. "Come on. Of course not". SIlly foreigner. The time difference between here and california is 13 and one half hours. Huh? I have become a chai junkie utterly and completely. Go ahead and laugh Mariah. It tastes different here. Im not sure how, but i inhale this stuff. Last tuesday I was cutting my nails, and Vicky said that he would cut his nails the next day. I asked why not today, and he said that you dont cut your nails or hair on tuesday. ill have to look into the rational for that one. When you order a samosa or any kind of fried street food here, they serve it in a bowl molded out of a dried leaf. cool.