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Greetings once again, bloggeroos! For those of you have been in grave concern for my well-being, fret not, for I've been doing quite well in the depths of India for the last three weeks or so. Your favourite intrepid traveler has managed to hole up in his apartment in Calcutta trying to keep it real. Fun Fact: I got drunk with a friend on my third day here to a song with a chorus: 'Voofer Tu Meri, Mein Tera Amplifayar... Fayar' (You're my sub-woofer, I'm your amplifier… fire :)
My first few days in Cal was met with s***-hitting-fan-type event when I forgot to remove my backpack from a cab which drove away. My backpack contained my passport, my PR card for Canada and my laptop(Quelle malheur, I know!).India being the massive klepto!ass country that it is, I was told to abandon almost all hope of ever retrieving the backpack. According to all the grown-ups here, the ONLY course of action to be taken was to file a report at the local police station. So, I rushed to the police station and completed the requisite police work in under an hour. The Calcutta police, true to its infamous repertoire of red-tape, retorted by making us wait for three hours while they filled out their end of the paper work. Before we could actually get to the other end of filling out all the paper work (four hours in, now…), I got a call from my place saying the taxi driver had made a noble return of my backpack. If anyone's ever heard me go on about how sleazy/unreliable/dishonest/fat Indian people are, he'd have an inkling of my sense of relief mingled amidst confused disbelief. While I drove the taxi-driver to the police station to get the complaint revoked, he went on a frenzy abouthow it isn't in his nature to steal. After all, the only way to a peaceful soul is through honest hard work, he told me. Sappalicious philosophical beliefs in the idea of a universal good can sometimes outshine best of Sartre's rants!
Unfortunately, I've lost most of my friends in Calcutta due to the fact that it's practically the DULLEST city in the country. Most of them have migrated to greener pastures in and out of the country. The few that had promised me good times and company seemed to be unable to hang since the impending elections had postponed their exams rendering them confined to their books till their exams were done. Logical, yes? At any rate, I, being the socially resourceful cat that I am, had tried to contact some random breakdancers here so I could have someone to sesh with. Unfortunately the breakdancing scene here is quite quite deplorable. Breakers are apparently treated simply as 'stuntmen that dance'.Although the guys I was breaking with (a crew called Crafts of Passion) weren't the best at some of the foundationy stuff, a bunch of them had a lot of the tricks and freezes down pat. Although most of them have been breaking under a year, they were spewing with enthusiasm and that was kindof contagious and s***. These guys were also really really good taking into account the fact that they have very little practice space since the city congested like craaaazy! So we ended up seshing at parking garages, the mall and this one guy's ex's uncle's isolated house in the middle of buttfudge nowhere.However, there was a 'dance event' with mostly bboys and hip-hop dancers, which we ended up doing quite well in (finals, whatwhat!). At any rate, the hip-hop dance scene in this country's quite nascent and thus extremely promising. I think the country's trying to do it's bit to promote it. That is, one of the guys here went to a bboy event in the country featuring Lilou and Roxrite, so that's all kinds of dope!
K, good dance rant! What else have I been doing here…. Lesseee…. Oh right this is kinda cool. I mean it's not that intense, like the last rant or whatevs, but it's sort of nice and fluffy. This one morning I was suuuuper hung over and was up before anyone else in my house and so I went out looking for a coffee. I ended up finding a flashy Starbucksy-like café and ordered coffee and water for some mad double fisting action. One thing about flashy Americanized establishments (malls, cafés etc.) in India is that they pay piss-poor wages to the workers there and train them to be like super disciplined (Yes, sir. No, sir. Everything ok, sir? Etc.). Needless to say, since I was the only person at the café, the server kept tending to my every need. At one point when I tried to return the cup to the counter, he got fake!agitated and tried telling me off for it. This was when I used my mad social skills and tried striking a conversation up with him, leading in from the fact that it was alright because I was a Tea Room employee (shoutout!). At any rate, buddy just opened up to me like a Bible on a Sunday morning. Apparently, he's suffering from lung cancer, has two years to live and works as a part-time gigolo! Shatru (cause that's his name, see) is, by far, one of the most entertaining/engrossing/unreserved indians I've ever talked to. As more regular customers came in, he kept telling me mad gossip about them, which was hilarious. Par example:
'See her? Yea… stay away from her. She's f***ing fatal, man. Gave me some of my best clients though'
'Yea, those two look pretty cute and couply, don't they? Except. The guy's married and having an affair with her behind his wife's back! He's nice, though. Real chatty.'
At any rate, it was quite entertaining treating others as objects and judging them as individuals from a reliable source. We exchanged numbers and tried to figure out some other time to hang out. By far the coolest guy in Cal. Ever!
Hi reader! You made it to the end. Good for you! I hope that was pseudo-entertaining. I try to make my blog posts funny, I really do! That's been a fantastically condensed account of my last three weeks in Cal. Kate was in the city for the last week of this so I ended up doing a lot of touristy stuff with her, which was fun. Actually, come to think of it, it was the swellest time ever! Read her blog for more on that! At any rate, there's Jharkhand and Delhi on the plate after this before I do Quebec, so keep reading JEET'S AWESOME BLOG O' SUMMER!
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Charles yo when you quebec? R u going to montreal?