About town

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Two street kids I'd seen around, he about 9, cocky and wild, she maybe older or just bigger, a sister? come into the restaurant while I'm having lunch. I notice 2 or 3 of the staff approach them, known obviously, but not welcome. Dirty hair, ragged clothes. Then the kid starts flashing bills about, Mr. Big Spender, and the waiters look at each other, unsure. They sit at my table. I suppose some people would think I was paying. The boy starts giving orders, pani, meals, clean this table. Pretty soon half the restaurant is chuckling to themselves, not wanting to encourage his insolence, but also enjoying his few minutes of fantasy land. He is particularly rough on the youngest waiter, still a boy himself, more rice, more sambar. Hurry! The meal was prepaid, but they ordered chai next, and a bill came for that. As I left, I picked it out of his hands and walked away. The two looked at each other as if to say, "What a day! Can it get any better?" The entertainment, and watching the underdog have his day, was well worth the small price.

Investigating the local mosque, whose sweet voiced caller to prayer wakes me around 5 am, but this is the evening prayer. Had purchased a white cap, and dressed like locals, white lungi and shirt, and nothing to make me noticeable, and very few did notice, an infidel amongst them, or was he? First to the pool, where seated on blocks around the edge, hands , feet and faced get a wash. Cap goes on, and I line up with the men inside, long neat rows, people making space if required to neatly complete the row. Maybe 200 guys in there. I follow the routine; standing, bowing, kneeling and touching head to the floor, twice, then back up, all repeated. (The most devout, the five-time-a-dayers, develop a bruise on their forehead) At one point all turn to neighbours left an right "Asalem aleikum" I give it right back to them. At one point in the head on floor bit, I overhear a deep, hypnotic kind of whispering, from my neighbour, words or sounds like Allah akhbar, allah hoo, fervently whispered. I am momentarily transported, my own meditations heightened by the passion I hear and feel. Whole event takes about 15 minutes, I do my thing, sitting quietly, watching inwardly while performing the required movements outwardly. When we stand up to leave, late comers behind us are still praying, all wait until an opening is made through which to exit without disturbing prayer. I feel I have been in the company of gentle men.
Went again next morning, this time get there early and sit. Less numbers, same silent prayer, then the ritual. Good start to the day. No one looks at me askance.

Bureaucracy. Changed the rules for multiple entry tourists since I've been here, so at least 2 months out of country required before return. So in Lanka I needed "Permission" to return before then. Two days in a a hot office, while pompous twits use what little power they have to keep me waiting. Then, back in India I need to register with police. Half day yesterday, several trips back and forth to get letter from my hotel manager, photos, a letter from myself, several forms filled in, and back to office today. Eavesdrop on horror stories of frantic tourists, one whose visa had elapsed one hour before flight out, now in trouble. Another whose smudged entry stamp had her refused at airport, a third who only now noticed his 6 month visa had been changed on arrival to 45 days, missing his flight now and broke. Phrases such as "Patience of a saint" "equanimity of a Buddha" and" For Christ's sake, you have got to be fucking joking" hang in stale office air, unspoken. Realize how this country has produced so many saints and sadhus. Osho's "Sannyas or suicide" comes to mind, this country can drive you mad, or maybe get you enlightened. Or just want to become a roving sadhu and drop out of the bullshit. But today is my day, in 15 minutes I am back on the street, "God is Great"

Masala dosa voted India's national dish. Let's eat.

Asalam aleikum

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Comments

[David]

Love your you-ness. Your weekly scribings are warm, warming and fun because they are. Just cos you have a following tho, doesn' make you less of a nobhead. I love you Good Bro

[Vanessa]

hey uncle sam it's vanessa, I love your writing! you had me captivated for the whole journey. Hope your having an awesome time <3 one love!

[azad]

Salam aleikum!
are you turning muslin on us? just joking.... i was in jordan a few years ago.... and i really enjoyed these mosque and the invitation to the prayer.... there is someting reassuring in it.... can't buy the whore spiel though...... love the story with the little boy.... it would make a good short storie.... take care love a.

[nick sudharma]

Indian beaurocracy - doncha love it ?
Great little snapshots of India, the ragged table companion, the passion of the mosque. There are horror stories here in Kathmandu about India's visa snafu....guys who went back to meet girlfriends at Delhi airport and could'nt get through, etc. etc., Hope I don't get caught by it in three weeks when I hit the West Nepal/ India border. Keep up the blogs - they are great.