Goldie Hawn a German Girl and a monkey

The word consequence walks hand in hand with many names, words, and deeds. The consequences of a persons actions. The ability to be a person of consequence. When making a mental note of people of consequence there is a name that certainly, and with good reason, does NOT come to mind: Goldie Hawn. How ever, after a few days on the ghats in Varanasi it becomes apparent that there is a power struggle that exists in the hearts of the people of the city. While historically Varanasi has been a center for Shiva worship, the equally ancient Goldie Hawn seems to be giving him a run for his rupees amongst the people.

The well remembered visit of the mildly unattractive to the city in 1982 still has the people talking, and is an important tool for instigating commerce on the ghats. The typical hustle starts: "From What country friend?" I have found that answering 'Pakistan' usually does the trick if you are trying to be left alone. If not: "special price, just for you," which quickly degenerates or regenerates to "I show you picture of Goldie Hawn."

Its actually genius. You dig through your brain trying to think of who Goldie Hawn is and why this person would have a picture of Goldie Hawn, then onto 'maybe this is a...compromising picture of Goldie Hawn and could be a story in itself.'
Boom, next thing you know you are in a silk shop looking at tame pictures taken two years before you were born of an actress who looked washed up at the height of her career. Oh Shiva, these are dark days indeed.

So after a couple days of buying gifts and taking temple tours I met the person I was hoping to meet while traveling. A cute German girl ( I have gotten along really well with Germans since high school, don't know what it is, I click with Germans) who was fearless, down to explore all day, and kept me laughing my ass off from the minute we met to when she left.

A key component in judging a persons character is seeing how they interact with the hustle of commerce oriented locals. I do appreciate Jeffery's approach of not acknowledging their presence excepts for a wagging at the wrist of the thumb and pointer finger in the shape of an 'L' that is lowered to waist height. The six copper bracelets he wears adds a raucous element that I think plays a huge roll in the effectiveness of the technique. Every time I see this my not so P.C. side pushes a wide grin to my face and conjures up an image of him riding an elephant while wearing a white suite with monocle and safari hat, cursing the 'dashed natives' while taking swings at monkeys with a walking stick. While you cannot deny its effectiveness it lacks compassion.

My German friend used a kind of exasperated compassionate tone in a demand for privacy that, for manners sake, was masked as a plea.
"sir, please"
It was just as effective as if Jeff had used the imaginary stick on the salesman.
We trucked around all day in unfamiliar and mostly tourist-less places of the city that I thought I had seen enough of.

The highlight was an after dark walk across a never ending "bridge" that had me feeling like my dreams of being Indiana Jones were coming to fruition. Large medal tanks floated across the Ganges with less than confidence inspiring planks of wood bolted on top. If it had been used for light foot traffic I would not have been worried. This being India, there was no point in thinking that was a reality. There was a constant flow of cars, motorcycles, rickshaws, bikes, and people. Each seemed to have the potential to be the bridge's last occupant.

During the night crossing the headlight of the vehicles attracted a blizzard of moths and other insects. We both had to cover out mouths, ears, and keep the eyes pointing down. Every time I snuck an upward glance the headlights revealed a fog of bugs swarming the bridge. Kristin's comment "It's like a Hitchcock movie" summed it up pretty well. The only thing I could do was keep going while trying to not inhale bugs every time I laughed.

Certain places and certain people people bring a certain mojo that allows for small experiences to take on a certain significance. What I have seen of India it is one of these places, and the two days of Kristin, she seemed like one of these people. Our paths were about to part after a last minute trip to Agra fell through. We were standing in my room with the door open when a punk of a monkey sauntered in like it was his room, gave me a look that made me think maybe it is his room and that I was mistaken in putting my bags in his way, reached for my marble carving of Ganesh, smashed it on the ground and walked out.

Fucken A Monkey! That Ganesh really tied the room together!

It was a nice reminder that there is always a lot around the corner.
Been sick for a few days now. If I don't get better I'm headed to the doc tomorrow. I get vertigo and a pain in my chest after walking thirty feet. Heart starts pounding and I just get wiped out. If I am lying down everything is cool. I have had the shits for so long I can't really call them a symptom of anything and the puking made me feel so much better I almost wish I'd start again.
It'll be great as soon as I feel better. I'll be well rested and ready for more adventure. I needed the time off. Everything thing is great out here.