Dancing Monkeys

This past weekend the V-four were brainstorming ideas for an exciting weekend getaway trip. We flipped to the section on Pondicherry and read the description of this former French colony with legendary pancakes, beaches, and a Ralph Lauren store. Immediately we knew this was sooo our kinda place. We shoved the essential swimsuit and flipflops into a communal backpack and headed to the bus station. The process of getting on a bus in India is one that deserves a little blog time. Ok the way this works is there is like 200,000 Indians, a herd of goats, 4 lost Americans, and of course your standard 25 lazy cows. (And just as a side note I’d like to say to the cows that Yes, We get it. You’re special. But just get outta the damn middle of the road. ) So anyhow all of these people and animals are all trying to ride on a bus to some town in India. This is complicated by the fact that none of the buses have numbers and everyone including the driver is somewhat unclear on where the bus is actually headed. 4 lost Americans have the added disadvantage of being lied to about where the bus is going so as to try to get 4 lost Americans to pay for a bus ride that 4 lost Americans think is taking them to pancakes and shopping. The other interesting part of public bus transport is that 200,000 Indians plus 4 lost Americans on a bus that holds 50, equals many Indians hanging on like Tarzan to bumper stickers. This also makes it extremely treacherous to exit the bus with your flipflop filled backpack at your stop. (see photo of me in the blue shirt trying to hurdle my body and the backpack through 200,000 Indians, and our new 5th lost American friend Robert trying to save the me/backpack combo) An added bonus for 4 lost Americans is getting to play in the obstacle course of buses going fullspeed toward oblivious Americans and leaping over the puke vomit of car sick Indians…only to be puke vomited all over at the end of the day. (really so sorry about your left foot Andrea)
But enough of the bus talk. So we finally did make it to “Pondi” and found the legends to be true. The pancakes were huge and fluffy and scrumptious and the mojitos were even better. The Vellore Four spent a lengthy amount of time with an Indian bartender explaining the delicate method for creating the ultimate Mojito. Our efforts only added to our extreme satisfaction with our Mother Teresa effect on India. Other humanitarian efforts include introducing fellow Indian bus travelers to pocket size hand sanitizer gel and GPS. Pondicherry highlights included visiting an ashram which is this big spiritual mecca which was started by “the Mother” who was this old woman who died back in the 70’s but they have a gorgeous shrine of flowers to her and they make a killing off of this gushy book which is basically “Chicken Soup for the Soul” by the Mother. We also took a beachwalk where we met a boy and his sidekick pet monkey that is supposed to dance for money but doesn’t actually move much and looks a bit on the sick rabies side of things to me. (We saw the boys old man boss in an alley later in the day. He was dressing the animal in pink doll clothes. I guess everybody knows a monkey is way better in a pink dress.) On the way home we made a side stop at Gingee which is a town that boasts two famous ruined forts (Rajagiri & Krishnagiri) . We trekked an hour to the base and a bagillion steps up to this thing and it was totally worth it. Somehow our group managed to pick up these two geriatric tour guides along the way and they did a slambang job of warding off adorable monkeys who morph into shitdevil monkeys before your eyes.
We eventually made it home safely after another 3 hour bus station adventure which resulted in more puking and the V-four ditching the buses for a private cab with A/C. All in all it was an outstanding trip and we learned lots about Indian weekend getaways. So next time we’re hiring a personal driver. And he’s taking us to a massage spa and lots and lots of mojitos.