Mr. Kunal

there is no way to sum up everything that happened we met and stayed with mr.kunal. i think, for the sake of the blog, i'll try to sum things up quickly.  sadly, i cannot transmit to you everything that was said and felt during our evening with him and his beautiful family.  you'll just have to take my word when i say it marks a meeting with one of the finest souls i've met in this life.

(fyi, for visualization purposes, imagine ghandi and hemingway mixed together and you've pretty much got it)

so there we are, tired and hungry with only a dim hope that up ahead lies someplace, anyplace, where we can rest.  we pull into a 'holiday house" to ask for directions.  a deaf man waves at us and smiles, then motions to the big house. a smiling man in a blue shirt and simple sandals emerges and approaches us, smiling and waving.

we give him the standard speech. "hi, we're gringos. we're traveling india on bikes and we're looking for (insert poorly pronouced destination here)." we expect broken english and a vague sense of where the next town is. instead we get -

"kim beach is very close. but you may camp here on my land if you wish. here, here or over there - wherever. there are guest houses there you may use if you don't wish to camp. here is a double room. come inside. here is hot water. is this bathroom okay? the water is all filtered. i know how you westerners are about clean water. here is hot water for a bath. take one, it will work out all the knots. sit here, i'll get some tea."

we were stunned. he never insisted we stay, he only made sure we knew we were welcome too. "may we pay you for the room?" i asked. "why? just stay here, there is not trouble."

honestly, i was on the verge of tears.  bleary eyed, i wiped my face and sat down to tea and biscuits. we had tea while the sun set in kunal's backyard. he left us alone saying he had a few things to do. when we were settled, we worked on the bikes for a while and both took a long indian style bath - basically pouring water over yourself from a small bucket. it's wondefully refreshing, a good exercise (as mr. kunal later pointed out) and oddly luxurious. we adjusted the brake pads and trued all the wheels before deciding that we should go thank our hosts again.

we were welcomed into the main house with smiles and were given the full tour. kunal spent years working as a wireless operator for different oil companies and ammased enough money to buy a little land, build a house and plant many trees to eat off of.  his prayer room was beautifully tucked away and very cleanly swept. the kitchen was well used and smelt like fresh food. the whole place was spacious, comfortable and lived-in. we were seath and kunal and his lovely wife gave us rum and pepsi.  we drank two rounds with kunal and talked about so much ... amnog the two hours or more throughout which there was never a dull or uninspiring moment, a few bright points stick out -

"europeans think too highly of themselves. you have to buy yours bread over here, not there. you are over there, i am over here. you are low. i am high. in France you must always be less than the french. france is a terrible place."

"churches can be very good but you must be careful - they like to build buildings and wear white robes, clean robes only. sometimes they are really good people but often they want some money or they say "you better think like me!""

"being on the bottom, being poor, is a very good thing. way up high on the mountain are the officials, the rulers and the priests and things.  but from the bottom of the mountain you can see straight up their robes. so you know their asses are as dirty as yours."

"the world is a round place - what happens here, goes around to there."

"if you have stream that's flowing in one direction and you want to change it, you cannot cut it off, or just block it.  it will explode and run over. you have to turn it very slowlyvery gradually and then it will go right where you want wihout any problems. this is how indians deal with things. when we kicked the british out, there were anglo-indians left who only wanted to associate with each other. so we said - okay. and we pushed them out a little. next generation, we push them out a little further. now, there are none."

"in america, decades ago, it didn't matter what you did, only how much money you made. we make the same? we're on par. it doesn't matter if he is a drug dealer or pimp or anything - money made you equal.  now i think things are different. but here, we don't just move out the dealer. if you make it, maybe you sell it, or you use it. just like the stream - little bit at a time, we push them all over there.  we kick them out. if you do any part of it, we move you over there, we move you out - slowly."

"there is no other woman than my wife for me, romantically. there are other women, i know. but sex or something - doesnt cross my mind. a son grows up and he says "this is my mom. this is my new mom. this is my new dad." and he grows up with that and he sleeps with whoever. i think you guys, your generation is better, but many americans and europeans grow up and they don't klnow what marraige is. i love my wife, she is my the only one."

"it's like benches or signs that say "no blacks or dogs allowed." a kid, maybe 6 or 8 he doesn't know, doesn't care. his best friend is black. but he sees that sign and his friend sees that sign.  then about 10 or 11 he says, what is black? he is black, i am not black, like this. there are many examples. we shouldn't teach our children these things. but it's very important to know - something changes in the mind at ten or eleven. we stop just being us, our mind opens uand we start thinking and seeing other people differently. we should be careful what we teach children."

Panvil to Alibad

i'm lying in a bed with a warm breeze blowing through the windows. the above is me is wobbly but provides a nice breeze as well. incense is burning to keep away mosquitos. my belly is full of water and eggs - full in a word, maybe for the first time sense arriving here. my head is warm and soft from rum. my skin is clean from a hot shower, my memory overflowing from the day. thinking it over ...



we finally cleared the city today about 10am when a worker from the hotel last night guided us to the road to goa. he asked for a tip so eliot gave him rs20. we had gathered some fruit from the hotel in our bags so we stopped to eat not long after that. on the way we braved traffic and heat. the weather really took it's toll on eliot. personally, i felt great - the hot weather, the biking the fuit - it felt just like my childhood in san antonio. i was in high spirits but eliot was having rough go.



we made it to a fruit stand 15km from pen and 40km from alibad. eliot lay down by the side of the road and i visited some of the stalls. i bought a pineapple and ate the whole thing as my lunch. we biked to a nearby hotel. eliot had some soup and i drank water and read the paper. with eliot on the verge of heatstroke, we opted to take a bus from nearby pen to alibad.



we were told that for ten rupees we could store the bikes above the bus ... but that we had less than ten minutes to unpack and get them up there. this turned out to be more like 5 minutes. i hauled my bike up single-handedly with much screaming and grunting. eliot handed his up and i hauled it up and began strapping themdown. the locals started yelling "time to go" before i had the first bungy on. hastily wrapping them, i jumped down and ran into the bus, panting and bleeding. i cannot stress how hard it was to haul the bikes up in a rush nor how satisfying to be working so hard. the experience of having one thing to do that must be done right now is clarifying, simple and good. biking 45km in 95 degree heat qualifies too.



on the bus i napped with trepedation given the amount of jostling that occured. in alibad we saw townsfolk preparing for holi, the end of winter and festival of colors. because of the holiday there were no rooms in town. we asked around for a place to camp. at one stall there were a couple men a few women and a retarded girl. the puzzled over our hindi-english translation picture book then walked accorss the street into a darkened shop. an old woman came out of the shadows. she took a brief look at the book and, in perfectly clear english asked us if we wanted to camp, then kim beach up the road was the best place. we thanked her and she smiled waving us in the direction of the beach, then slid back into her shop. when she spoke all the men stopped and listened. she is perhaps the only person we've met who looked first and only at us and not our bikes. if there are goddesses, this is what they look like.



so there we are, on the road to some beach at sundown with the vague hope that we can camp somewhere ... maybe find a meal ... dead tired too. no food in me except some fruit, running low on water. starving, dehydrated, dirty and tired, we had no clue where we would sleep, what we could eat or where we were going.



and then we met Kunal ...

dinner with the saeeds

i work with a wonderful person named Nabeeyah Saeed. We just call her Bea. Bea was born and raised in Michigan but her family is originally from Yemen, and that's where her husband was born. Alot of their family lives in India, particularly in and around Hyderabad and Madras.  Last sunday they invited us over for dinner. 

When we first got there, Mr. Saeed treated eliot and i to a nice, cold XXs.  apparently, he's crazy about mexican beer. i can empathize. we talked alot about the trip, his family, our family. we had some chili / lime fried chips (also from mexico). as we munch down and knock back beer it occurs to me that mexico and india have a lot in common. deeply religious, traditional older folks set against the modernization of the young, post colonialism and (as i've mentioned here) a love of mixing sweet with spicy. also, dancing. 

mr. saeed talked a lot about his time in madras as a young man. about brahmans looking down on those lower than them (in the caste system, that's everyone else), about Sikhs hating muslims ... some strong words were exchanged. at the end of each assertion, though, Mr. Saeed would sweep it away. "Do what you want to do" he said later in the evening. "if people don't approve, then to hell with them. Go somewhere else." I guess that's how he ended up with Bea, in America. 

Bea is a perfectly western woman. She lied to her mother to play soccer, hid her intentions to join the FBI and ended up working as a director of nurses at a hospice taking care of the dying. she does what she wants, says what she thinks and has one of the biggest hearts in the world. Mr. Saeed is a blessed man, and he knows it. As much as Yemenis extremists have been in the news, here are two wonderfully loving Americans, sharing food and wisdom with a couple of wide-eyed american-born idiots. Mr. Saeed left Yemen, then India, married a strong, independent woman and settled down with his family. 

Bea makes Yogurt curry, rice, green beans and tuna curry.  There's chutney, and chili sauce and something i can't identify - another chutney maybe?  It's green and spicy and tastes good with everything. Me and eliot eat two plates before taking a break. I want more but i'm stuffed. I drink the rest of my beer to calm my stomach down. Everything tastes amazing. 

He beams when his sons are in the room - he has 3. He scolds one of the young ones who is playing his video games upstairs too loud. he tells us about the food in india, how he loved curries and hot arabic dishes ... about how madras is the perfect city for vegetarians. He tells us that when he got married, bea told him she'd cook dinner on the first night. She made sloppy joe's.  He was expecting curry and rice. Bea didn't know how to make curry (she grew up in Michigan - remember?). 

Later we're in the garage. Mr. and Mrs. Saeed are smoking.  Bea is sitting on an old bow-flex machine and Mr. Saeed leans on a desk.  Eliot is in front of a heated and i'm in a plastic lawn chair. It's so cold we can see our breaths. Their cigarettes look warm.  

"My sister was the third woman in Yemen to drive a car," Mr. Saeed is saying. "And you know, nowadays, that's okay. But then it was a big deal. It was Ramadan and you know, you're not allowed to eat all day.  So people go out, they go for walks, they drive, they go to the market or the mall. So we were out driving and this guy, he stops us because my sister is driving.  I get out and we start talking ... he says this ... I say ... I said a bad word.  And it was Ramadan so I can't say these words. He pulls out a J-knife, a big knife, you know a j-knife? And he comes at me and I grab a rock and I hit him in the face."  Eliot and I share a look. 

We're back inside and the Saeeds are telling us about places to go, people they know we should look up. Mr. Saeed makes chai - we each have at least two cups. The tea is strong - and perfect. Mr. Saeed tells us to eat "paan" whenever we get a chance but to be careful where we spit - the treat turns your saliva red. He says to stay away from "sooka." It's like paan but stronger, made with some kind of tobacco or cannabis that will "turn our heads," he says. He says even indians won't touch it, the smart ones anyway. 

We shake hands about a dozen times, i'm writing everything on my phone.  We say goodbye five or six times and finally, four hours after arriving we walk out to the car, leftovers in our hands. 

spicy safari, episode 4

EPISODE 4 - Knife-Faced Cats

OR

Another way to die in India

WARNING - LOTS OF AWESOME TIGER VIDEOS! 

And so we come to the national animal of India - the Bengal Royal Tiger. The bengal is probably the tiger you've seen if you've been to the zoo - not as big as the siberian tiger, but the most numerous. and even though there's only about 2100 of the guys in the world, somewhere between 1300-1500 live in India.  Tigers are amazingly powerful, have enormous claws and eat up to 60lbs of meat in a single meal. Also they are purely carnivorous! We're Doomed! AGAIN! 

no but seriously, tigers are fiercely territorial and stay spread out.  like every other animal on this list, rapid encroachment has forced tigers out of their typically habitat meaning tigers and humans sometimes bump shoulders.  even though they'd much prefer to be left alone,  they don't like eating humans (they'd much rather eat their cattle - and even that it's anywhere near their top choice).  when pressed and hungry, tigers have been known to eat old, sick and wounded humans (check, check and check - we should be fine). such a tiger is called a MANEATER and will continue to eat humans. tigers have also been known to eat wolves, jackals (not, unfortunately "jackyls"), bears (<-- great music on that one) and even crocodiles as food and even though it's rare, they've been observed taking down rhinos and even elephants. 

STELLAAAAAAAA!

whenever you get scared about a tiger, bear, shark or any other animal munching down on you just remember that to them you look and smell like a giant hairless monkey - nowhere near what they usually eat. moreover, the soap and fragrances we wear make us smell like a bunch of nuclear flowers.  they are much more interested in our urine (which smells like an animal and more to the point contains salt - mmmm) and, if you eat meat, your food. raw meats, jerky, and smoked fish smell awesome to animals. thankfully, me and eliot are both veggies and super flatulent to boot. that's nature's tiger repellent. 

Faster, Tiger, KILL KILL

on to much more interesting tiger facts: tigers live on their own, and are expected to create and maintain their own territory from the time they are 18 months old on. their fathers will leave as soon as they are born, so they're raised entirely by their mothers. they basically spend their lives cruising around and munching down on small and medium-sized game and staying out of areas that other tigers have sprayed. tigers can tell male from female sprays, and should a male wander into a female's territory (or vis versa) they will typically get it on.  the exception is if the female is already preggo. then the male tiger's like "i don't need no drama" and he gets a jäger and peaces.

above all, the largest enemy to tigers is humans. ugh ... once again messing up what is inherently awesome in the universe.  get this: the number one killer of tigers? CRACK-POT MEDICINE. in addition to the famous tiger-wang powder that is supposed to make a dude rip-snorted sexual tyrannosaurus (i tried - it doesn't), their teeth, organs and pelts are prized for magical purposes. you can find a really disgusting list of things here if you're into that kind of thing.  

look, i love (LOVE) black magic, supernatural powers and mysticism more than just about anything. but one thing i DO love more than all those things is kittens. and tigers are basically big kittens. with knives in their faces. so please, please: stop killing the giant kitties, won't you?  

taking their penises isn't going to make you feel any better about your penis. 

please. stop stealing tiger wang. 

spicy safari, episode 3

EPISODE 3 - Flying Foxes

OR

Night of the Guavampire! 

The greater short-nosed fruit bat goes by many names - Indian Fruit Bat, Old World Fruit Bat, Megabat and (my favorite) the Flying Fox.  It's the bane of the sky, raining down terror and mayhem and all those that would stand in it's path, ruthless in it's quest to sink it's sharp, slobbering fangs into their ... guava. Or bananas, they like those, too. There is a lesser (or minor) short-nosed fruit bat but who wants to hear about that?

o hai.

So who is this flying rodent-thing and what's his deal? Well, to begin with, the Indian Fruit Bat is just one of some 123 species of bat living in Asia, with most of those in India.  These bats make up one-fourth of the mammalian population of India and account for one tenth of the total bat population in the world. That's alot of guano, people! 

As with many other species, the indigenous people of india (especially farmers) are none too keen on the fruit bat since they (duh) eat alot of fruit. they are also carriers of japanese encephalitis, they make a lot of noise and they remind people of THE WAMPYR!  but environmentalist say their natural habitat is being encroached upon by the (cough) 1 BILLION PEOPLE living in India. In case you haven't noticed, this is kind of the story of animal life on earth.   okay, a warning: 

THE NEXT PART OF THIS POST IS RATED "M" FOR MATURE - THERE IS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT UP AHEAD. IF YOU ARE A TOTAL PRUDE, DON'T READ PAST THIS SWEET BAT PICTURE:

you kept reading? oooooooooooo! 

An interesting note on Fruit Bat mating behavior: they are the only non-primate species known on earth to perform fallatio during intercourse. the female bat goes down on the male bat to "prolong copulation" and "insure insemination" - which is funny because it pretty much works the opposite way in humans (ZING!). what's more, the she performs this favor to the dude-bat WHILE he's got his um ... you know, batarang?  in her ... uh ... oh boy, this is akward. watch this video, it explains everything. 

sorry, mom. 

Spotlight On: The Infamous Auto-Rickshaw

If you've ever been to any South Asian city, no doubt you've seen (or ridden inside) an AUTO RICKSHAW, or Tut-Tut. These little buggers make up a considerable amount of the mobility in most Indian cities, as they are essentially tiny taxis that ferry citizens from here to there with the greatest of ease. They have three wheels attached to a scooter engine and the body of a Tilt-A-Whirl cabin - awesome! They seat about 3 people + the driver (though you can often see whole families or a gaggle of school children stuffed inside the cabin, with a couple of daring souls hanging on to the side as they deftly navigate the "treacherous" streets of the city.

Though most traffic patterns in India would seem like a royal cluster-muck to the Western eye, locals of India refer to it with pride as a representation of the "orchestrated chaos" that defines the way the country works. From government to markets to travel to whatever, the country seems like it is constantly on the brink of self-destruction, but really everyone is working with a little bit of give and take to make it through. And, in the end, everything works out OK. Snakes be damned, Drew and I hope that the idea of this ordered chaos will carry us through, as well. Please no snakes. Oh God.

On the Rickshaw front, a Dutch company called Enviu is pushing for a movement to make hybrid Tut-Tuts, to battle the intense amount of junk these little buzzers puff out into the air. This company, whose other accolades include creating a dance floor that generates energy when people boogie on it called sustainable dance club (genius), is looking to reduce Rickshaw emissions and get drivers paid a bit more, as they typically make about 3-4$ US per day. Working with experts in Hyderabad and Bangalore, they've deduced that if they convert a million rickshaws, they can reduce the pollution of those zingers 40-60%, and boost the income of the drivers by about 30%. They're hoping this incentive program will catch on soon and be a mutual boon for both the company and the rickshaw operators themselves, not to mention the AIR (cough, cough). Meanwhile, some cities such as New Delhi have converted their autos to Clean Natural Gas, which Drew and I unfortunately produce at an alarming rate.

Stay tuned in the coming months, and you may witness video of this Daring Duo Dubiously Defying Death whilst Driving Down Delhi's Dangerous Downtown DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD.....Streets!!! Shazam!