A day in the life

From the very moment I wake up, life in India has managed to alter what were typically my most predictable and routine events. After 3 days of Indian cuisine, the morning "shit, shower and shave" have turned into "shit, shower, and shit again". After getting clearance from my stomach, I head off for some pedestrian sight seeing around Calcutta.

Light calesthetics and a mental game plane are a must in preparation of the assault of street beggars that await in the streets of "touristy" areas. My execution is far from flawless but effective, I use my barry sanders like lateral quickness to juke the mothers with their babies and keep my elbows out of reach to shake of the more mobile children. Beggars out of the way, the unbelievably crowded streets of Calcutta are my next challenge. The pedestrian filled sidewalks are only outdone by the streets where buses and taxis dominate the scene. There seem to be 3 basic rules all vehicles follow: 1) Functional horn must be used every 5-10 sec. 2) exhaust must be visible 3) Frame of vehicle must be as least aerodynamic as possible. I do everything possible to avoid getting pushed off the sidewalk as no driver seems to care about causing human casualties.

I roam the lively streets until the pollution takes it's toll and head to the nearest A/C restaurant. My meals seem to follow a similar routine. I spend 30 sec giving my order and double that emphasizing "no spicy". I hardly catch the waiter rolling his eyes, as I am too busy smothering my hands in sanitizer. I than breakout my lonely Planet guide book to decide whether or not I will like the meal I am about to eat....lonely planet is never wrong. After consulting my book I decide the restaurant has ? a friendly atmosphere? and that ? it offers the best buttered chicken at a budget price?. I then rush home just incase my stomach decides to reject my lonely planet approved meal.

In the evenings the backpackers seem to mostly hangout near the lobby of my guesthouse, where I have yet to make any friends. Dreadlocks, shaved heads, embroidered shoulder bags, musical instruments and conversations of a deep nature seem to dominate the scene. Every time I approach them with my week old haircut, and jansport backpack, I already know what their thinking "this guy listens to maroon 5"....their only partially right.

Last night I built up some courage and decided to approach my neighbors. I sat down next to a dreaded Japanese guy who shortly thereafter decided to breakout his drum. Clearly unable to shake his karaoke roots he closed his eyes, tilted his had back and with inspiration from above proceeded to put on one of worst musical displays I have ever witnessed. Others in their hash-induced state found some type of rhythm to bob their heads to.

I quietly slipped away to the internet cafe where other clean-cut foreigners (likely missionaries) hung out. Bad drummer aside, this has been my general routine for my first 5 days in India. A country that has already managed to humble in many ways and make me feel "preppier" than ever.