Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Pat's awesome experience and updates
A couple of days ago, I got my first naked massage. Of course neither I nor Sasha had any clue that was what was in store for me. We were simply walking around in the rain and not really sure what to do with our last afternoon in Kerala and saw a spa and figured to see how much it would cost to get one. At 500 rupees for a massage and an herbal steam bath we figured what the hell, it’ll be a good time. The place seemed very professional and clearly stated that there would be no happy enders (in less blunt terms than that), so we were both fully content. I would have a man give me one and Sasha would have a woman, something likewise we were fully content with, as we have both had people of the same sexes give us massages. So when it came time to get our massages, we entered into different rooms.
As I have had a number of massages in the past I knew of course to take off my clothing while keeping on my boxers for both hygienic and professional reasons, but that day it was going to be different. As I approached the bed the man said to me to take of my boxers, which at first I thought was simply a communication misunderstanding. Wrong! For a moment I questioned if I’d be comfortable doing this, but I figured I’d be under a cloth or something instead of just laying out there for the viewing. Wrong! I was on the bed for the next hour with a fellow running up and down my naked body with his hands. Now I must assure at no time did he do anything that I’d question to be outside the professional code of naked massages, but this did not stop me from laughing non-stop and thinking what Sasha would think of this. I should add that the fellow giving me the massage was a very nice guy who had just finished studying for his certificate and getting married soon, After my massage, I got into a little box (still naked) and sat there as stream filled the box with my head sticking out at the top. Sadly, I didn’t think to ask the fellow to take a picture for all you guys to see on facebook. After the steam bath, my fellow figured to dry me off, which of course made me laugh even more and praying to God Sasha didn’t come into the room because I’d start to look like Ted Haggard. When I exited and saw Sasha, I told her what happened laughing and her response outside of laughing at me was, “They made me keep my underwear on!”
Anyone who knows where to find a Tamil Tigers flag? No matter how many store owners Pat asks it sets an uncomfortable and awkward tension immediately. Other than that, we have 13 days left on our trip – in Pondicherry currently and trying to make our way to Mumbai, and then to Delhi.
As I have had a number of massages in the past I knew of course to take off my clothing while keeping on my boxers for both hygienic and professional reasons, but that day it was going to be different. As I approached the bed the man said to me to take of my boxers, which at first I thought was simply a communication misunderstanding. Wrong! For a moment I questioned if I’d be comfortable doing this, but I figured I’d be under a cloth or something instead of just laying out there for the viewing. Wrong! I was on the bed for the next hour with a fellow running up and down my naked body with his hands. Now I must assure at no time did he do anything that I’d question to be outside the professional code of naked massages, but this did not stop me from laughing non-stop and thinking what Sasha would think of this. I should add that the fellow giving me the massage was a very nice guy who had just finished studying for his certificate and getting married soon, After my massage, I got into a little box (still naked) and sat there as stream filled the box with my head sticking out at the top. Sadly, I didn’t think to ask the fellow to take a picture for all you guys to see on facebook. After the steam bath, my fellow figured to dry me off, which of course made me laugh even more and praying to God Sasha didn’t come into the room because I’d start to look like Ted Haggard. When I exited and saw Sasha, I told her what happened laughing and her response outside of laughing at me was, “They made me keep my underwear on!”
Anyone who knows where to find a Tamil Tigers flag? No matter how many store owners Pat asks it sets an uncomfortable and awkward tension immediately. Other than that, we have 13 days left on our trip – in Pondicherry currently and trying to make our way to Mumbai, and then to Delhi.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Finally, a nice story
We've over the last month and half have meet numerous people that I'm sure we'll both keep in contact with for many years to come. This is one of the great things about traveling is that you can meet a tremendous amount of different people from different countries that you have much in common with, as you have all had the Indian experience (the Kashmir experience further more for that matter). If I were to attempt to sell someone on why they should go to India, this certainly would be one of my major selling points: you'll meet people from every country, but you'll all share a similar experience that will never leave you.
This is all true, but we believe that in the last day we both had one of the more heart-filled experiences. Sasha and myself we were walking about from lunch to our hotel because it was raining like the devil was beating his mother. You must understand, we're in the most southern province of India and in summer that means only two things: super cheap hotels and monsoons. So we have the setting: it was raining hard. We figured that we'd just take it easy in our cozy colonial style town and play the same card game that we've played for the last six weeks, but as we walked down a street that had about 5inches of water on it we heard some strange noise. I saw a ton of birds up on a tree trying to get away from the rain and just figured it was them, but Sasha started to look into a grassy area because she is still able to follow sounds because she didn't destroy her hearing with an ipod. What did she find? A three week old kitten crying that we still have not determined the name of yet (the debate continues). We were not too sure how the cat got there. It could have been left there by a person or abandoned by its mother, but in such an unsafe area (close to the road that was in flooding with rain) we could easily assume that no one was coming back for it. Personally, my inclination was to leave it while Sasha right away picked it up with her scarf and into her arms. This is particularly ironic seeing that I'm veg and she is half Serbian... that speaks for itself.
The kitten that we had found could hardly walk a few inches without falling and looked like it was about to starve to death. We figured that we should get to a vet as soon as possible and get some information about young kittens. Neither of us, I should add, have ever owned or wanted a cat, and therefore didn't have a clue. Thus, we set out to find a rickshaw in the rain and get our new friend some help. Sadly, on Saturdays the vet closed early in the afternoon, so we'd be forced to wait till the next day till we could see a vet. Seeing that both of us were clueless about what to do, we asked the driver what kittens eat and he told us to get some milk, so we got some milk and got a box so we could smuggle our new friend into our room. The major worry was that we wouldn't be able to get her inside because she had kept crying whenever she moved an inch away from Sasha, but thankfully she made no noises and we got passed our toothless (mind you, very friendly toothless) hostel owner.
We got our friend into the room and dried her off. Sasha told me to go down to the computer cafe and find some information about the diet of kittens, in which I soon found out that cow's milk could give kittens a serious case of the shits and lead to getting dehydrated, and under her weak condition most likely die. Just to make note of this, you should only give kittens goats milk if momma cat isn't around, but in the cruel faith that is our lives we were surrounded by goats but no way to milk them! I keep on writing milf instead of milk for some reason. I just did it again. Don't look up "milf" mom. Lucky for us, we found out that basically no cat will say no to tuna and we were sitting next to the sea, so tuna it was. Our friend ate that stuff up like there was no tomorrow and slept for the next 12 hours.
This morning we woke up early to get down to the vet and see what we could do for the cat's health and see about shelters or potential means of getting it a home. We both were not childish enough to think that this would be easy as you can walk down any street in India and see goats, cows, stray dogs and cats, and if you're lucky, maybe a 4 meter snake, so animal control isn't a pressing priority here. This of course meant we might have to put our friend down if we couldn't find her a home because she would die a much more painful death in no time on the streets. We had hope that maybe one of the individuals we have spoken to who were staying here for a prolong period would be interested, but there was no telling if they would.
So we got to the vet and waited for him to show up. In the meantime, our friend made friends with a cat hanging around the hospital that had a broken leg and according to one of the people working there was left there by someone a week ago. The vet showed up and we told him the story. He said that this cat was healthy in terms of diseases, but said the chances of finding a home were next to none. Apparently, in India it isn't very popular to have cats or any pets, and if you do it is dog most of the time. As a result, I brought up the issue of putting the cat down in a couple days if we couldn't find a potential owner, which lead Sasha to begin tearing up. Just as we begun to speak about it, a lady who lived next to the vet came in to see the doctor, and saw Sasha getting upset. The lady didn't speak any English but could see Sasha was very very sad and asked what was wrong. The doctor explained that we might have to put down the cat if we couldn't find an owner. She then simply said it was too early for the cat to die and said she would take her. We asked if the doctor knew this woman and he said yes and she was a good person too. We agreed to give her the cat and offered to pay for any needed shots or food, which she declined and the doctor said he'd do it for free. As a result, our friend now has a new home and hopefully a happy and loving owner.
The question remains: What should we name the cat? Sasha wanted to name it Pygmee for some unknown reason... She says that it would be a good name because the cat was so tiny, but I thought it sounded like some reject person... you don't need to rub it in the cat's face that its mother most likely didn't love it! I thought Dal was a nice name because that's what I eat everyday. The other name we came up with was Abbeycat for Humanity, which is a mixture of the lovely friend of ours Abbey and the Christian organization that gives people houses. The debate continues but tell us what you think we should name the cat? Look at the pictures on Facebook. Go Slovenia and Serbia tonight!
This is all true, but we believe that in the last day we both had one of the more heart-filled experiences. Sasha and myself we were walking about from lunch to our hotel because it was raining like the devil was beating his mother. You must understand, we're in the most southern province of India and in summer that means only two things: super cheap hotels and monsoons. So we have the setting: it was raining hard. We figured that we'd just take it easy in our cozy colonial style town and play the same card game that we've played for the last six weeks, but as we walked down a street that had about 5inches of water on it we heard some strange noise. I saw a ton of birds up on a tree trying to get away from the rain and just figured it was them, but Sasha started to look into a grassy area because she is still able to follow sounds because she didn't destroy her hearing with an ipod. What did she find? A three week old kitten crying that we still have not determined the name of yet (the debate continues). We were not too sure how the cat got there. It could have been left there by a person or abandoned by its mother, but in such an unsafe area (close to the road that was in flooding with rain) we could easily assume that no one was coming back for it. Personally, my inclination was to leave it while Sasha right away picked it up with her scarf and into her arms. This is particularly ironic seeing that I'm veg and she is half Serbian... that speaks for itself.
The kitten that we had found could hardly walk a few inches without falling and looked like it was about to starve to death. We figured that we should get to a vet as soon as possible and get some information about young kittens. Neither of us, I should add, have ever owned or wanted a cat, and therefore didn't have a clue. Thus, we set out to find a rickshaw in the rain and get our new friend some help. Sadly, on Saturdays the vet closed early in the afternoon, so we'd be forced to wait till the next day till we could see a vet. Seeing that both of us were clueless about what to do, we asked the driver what kittens eat and he told us to get some milk, so we got some milk and got a box so we could smuggle our new friend into our room. The major worry was that we wouldn't be able to get her inside because she had kept crying whenever she moved an inch away from Sasha, but thankfully she made no noises and we got passed our toothless (mind you, very friendly toothless) hostel owner.
We got our friend into the room and dried her off. Sasha told me to go down to the computer cafe and find some information about the diet of kittens, in which I soon found out that cow's milk could give kittens a serious case of the shits and lead to getting dehydrated, and under her weak condition most likely die. Just to make note of this, you should only give kittens goats milk if momma cat isn't around, but in the cruel faith that is our lives we were surrounded by goats but no way to milk them! I keep on writing milf instead of milk for some reason. I just did it again. Don't look up "milf" mom. Lucky for us, we found out that basically no cat will say no to tuna and we were sitting next to the sea, so tuna it was. Our friend ate that stuff up like there was no tomorrow and slept for the next 12 hours.
This morning we woke up early to get down to the vet and see what we could do for the cat's health and see about shelters or potential means of getting it a home. We both were not childish enough to think that this would be easy as you can walk down any street in India and see goats, cows, stray dogs and cats, and if you're lucky, maybe a 4 meter snake, so animal control isn't a pressing priority here. This of course meant we might have to put our friend down if we couldn't find her a home because she would die a much more painful death in no time on the streets. We had hope that maybe one of the individuals we have spoken to who were staying here for a prolong period would be interested, but there was no telling if they would.
So we got to the vet and waited for him to show up. In the meantime, our friend made friends with a cat hanging around the hospital that had a broken leg and according to one of the people working there was left there by someone a week ago. The vet showed up and we told him the story. He said that this cat was healthy in terms of diseases, but said the chances of finding a home were next to none. Apparently, in India it isn't very popular to have cats or any pets, and if you do it is dog most of the time. As a result, I brought up the issue of putting the cat down in a couple days if we couldn't find a potential owner, which lead Sasha to begin tearing up. Just as we begun to speak about it, a lady who lived next to the vet came in to see the doctor, and saw Sasha getting upset. The lady didn't speak any English but could see Sasha was very very sad and asked what was wrong. The doctor explained that we might have to put down the cat if we couldn't find an owner. She then simply said it was too early for the cat to die and said she would take her. We asked if the doctor knew this woman and he said yes and she was a good person too. We agreed to give her the cat and offered to pay for any needed shots or food, which she declined and the doctor said he'd do it for free. As a result, our friend now has a new home and hopefully a happy and loving owner.
The question remains: What should we name the cat? Sasha wanted to name it Pygmee for some unknown reason... She says that it would be a good name because the cat was so tiny, but I thought it sounded like some reject person... you don't need to rub it in the cat's face that its mother most likely didn't love it! I thought Dal was a nice name because that's what I eat everyday. The other name we came up with was Abbeycat for Humanity, which is a mixture of the lovely friend of ours Abbey and the Christian organization that gives people houses. The debate continues but tell us what you think we should name the cat? Look at the pictures on Facebook. Go Slovenia and Serbia tonight!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
BURN
Pat and I were heading back to our hostel after having lunch and on our way we passed a soccer/cricket field, flooded with boys enjoying the afternoon cricket play after a long day at school. Pat kept on looking back to the field, tempted to join in on the fun. Being a westerner, you're bound to be welcomed with much enthusiasm. With that in mind, Pat approached the group of boys, beaming with confidence that the boys would fight over him which team he would be playing for. Not. They all flocked ahead of him, throwing their fists in the air repeatitively screaming "You GO! You can't play!" and other uncomprehensible stuff. Am certain it wasn't positive.
With a dissappointed and slightly shocked look on his face he almost whispers "They wouldn't let me play cricket. Most boys would let me play cricket with them. These boys aren't very nice." Aw.
With a dissappointed and slightly shocked look on his face he almost whispers "They wouldn't let me play cricket. Most boys would let me play cricket with them. These boys aren't very nice." Aw.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Koochi-koo
And yes, we live to tell about it. The 50 hour trip that break most women and men, Sasha, Patrick, our new friend Rosie, and of course Sultan (the man who told Pat and Sasha that they're going to hell) made it. Rosie is a lovely English-French woman with more charm in her pinky than Pat in his entire body. Sultan, a lovely Muslim man from some former Dutch colony, tried and unsuccessfully did not converted Pat and Sasha by telling them that they were going to hell to wearing shorts, playing cards, and of a number of other offenses. Else wise, he was a very very nice fellow. Though, I doubt he would have enjoyed the fact we were drinking rum in the bottom bunk while he was doing his afternoon prayer right above us... just a hunch if he doesn't like Rosie's shorts.
Fort Kochin (not a dirty place) located in Kerala, surprisingly reminds us of Montreal, specifically the Plateau. No we are not talking about hipster trash, just the colourful housing. The weather, like any Canadian's favourite topic, is quite nice. Humid, but oh so fresh, hence the Monsoon. Plus there are churches everywhere! Team Christian/Whitey is in friendly territory here in Fort Kochin.
We'll be staying here for a while we think. We're certainly not going to be taking any GD trains for a while.
Fort Kochin (not a dirty place) located in Kerala, surprisingly reminds us of Montreal, specifically the Plateau. No we are not talking about hipster trash, just the colourful housing. The weather, like any Canadian's favourite topic, is quite nice. Humid, but oh so fresh, hence the Monsoon. Plus there are churches everywhere! Team Christian/Whitey is in friendly territory here in Fort Kochin.
We'll be staying here for a while we think. We're certainly not going to be taking any GD trains for a while.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Back in the Belly
Since we got into India, everyone has said that Delhi is a shit city. To a certain degree we could acknowledge the arguments put forth about this.
1) You cannot see the sky at all because the pollution is that bad
2) You'll never stop getting ripped off the moment you step into the city
3) There is zero structure to the city, and the little there is under construction
All still very true, but we decided to take a different approach to the city. We're staying in a slightly more costly place (an extra $5) then we're used to and eating Western food. This means for the next day, we are taking a trip to the West. Yes, that means HBO and TGI Fridays! Not entirely, but somewhat. See, Sasha (and I mean only Sasha) was getting just a tad too sick of all this charming stuff like temples and people shitting basically everywhere. Not to sound higher than thou, but I still find it extremely funny when I see a group of men shitting in a circle, so I was alright, so I was alright. SIDENOTE: someone is watching women touch their tits next to us... he also has a shaved head with a little gay pony tail...
Anyways, we're doing something beyond absurd and something I pledged not to do even after both Sasha and Mark said it was the greatest idea ever. Tomorrow Sasha and I will take a train from the capital all the way to the most southern point of India. That means we'll be on the train for the next 50 hours. When booking this train, the guy issuing the ticket began to laugh at us and laughed even harder when I asked if it was direct. There are 41 stops. So much for "express" in "Kerala Express". That guy is still on "Sneha_hot.boobs" on youtube.... creep
It makes sense though logistically and economically, both Sasha and I rationalized. See we wanted to head south and neither one of us really had any real desire to go to Mumbai, which is the most costly area in all of India in terms of hostels - about double everywhere else. Below that is Goa, which is basically the Caribbean for European tourists and cost so much. So, instead we're going to a place that has the highest literacy rate in India (thank you Communist Party), a diverse religious population, and some of the most beautiful scenes in all of India. We're really looking forward to going there, if of course both do not kill each other and the others on the train after the 40th hour (God those last couple hours...). That wasn't a threat I swear Government of India and India Railway Commission. So, we wont be on the blog for the next while but I'm sure we'll have a lot of stories when we get there.
Love
Sasha and Pat
PS. He's looking at Brazilian women now in little to no clothing.
1) You cannot see the sky at all because the pollution is that bad
2) You'll never stop getting ripped off the moment you step into the city
3) There is zero structure to the city, and the little there is under construction
All still very true, but we decided to take a different approach to the city. We're staying in a slightly more costly place (an extra $5) then we're used to and eating Western food. This means for the next day, we are taking a trip to the West. Yes, that means HBO and TGI Fridays! Not entirely, but somewhat. See, Sasha (and I mean only Sasha) was getting just a tad too sick of all this charming stuff like temples and people shitting basically everywhere. Not to sound higher than thou, but I still find it extremely funny when I see a group of men shitting in a circle, so I was alright, so I was alright. SIDENOTE: someone is watching women touch their tits next to us... he also has a shaved head with a little gay pony tail...
Anyways, we're doing something beyond absurd and something I pledged not to do even after both Sasha and Mark said it was the greatest idea ever. Tomorrow Sasha and I will take a train from the capital all the way to the most southern point of India. That means we'll be on the train for the next 50 hours. When booking this train, the guy issuing the ticket began to laugh at us and laughed even harder when I asked if it was direct. There are 41 stops. So much for "express" in "Kerala Express". That guy is still on "Sneha_hot.boobs" on youtube.... creep
It makes sense though logistically and economically, both Sasha and I rationalized. See we wanted to head south and neither one of us really had any real desire to go to Mumbai, which is the most costly area in all of India in terms of hostels - about double everywhere else. Below that is Goa, which is basically the Caribbean for European tourists and cost so much. So, instead we're going to a place that has the highest literacy rate in India (thank you Communist Party), a diverse religious population, and some of the most beautiful scenes in all of India. We're really looking forward to going there, if of course both do not kill each other and the others on the train after the 40th hour (God those last couple hours...). That wasn't a threat I swear Government of India and India Railway Commission. So, we wont be on the blog for the next while but I'm sure we'll have a lot of stories when we get there.
Love
Sasha and Pat
PS. He's looking at Brazilian women now in little to no clothing.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
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