Jan 8

IN india, everything's a story. That's what makes travelers seem so interesting. They're not really that interesting, it's just impossible to have regular every day Canadian type experiences in India. Here's my little story, not so interesting but whatever.

So, ya, hadn't showered in 5 or more days. Lost count, in fact I haven't showered since I was with my parents, but I've done the bucket type thing or more accurately kneeling down and using the lower faucets to clean myself a few times, but since delhi I hadn't touched water. The jammu bathroom on the way to srinigar was not inspiring and there was no hot water, and no way i was gonna bathe in srinigar cause it was freezing, the tub was nasty, fuck that. But it didn't bother me all that much, but back in Jammu now, I wanted a shower. I asked the guy if I'd get one for the 300rs and he said yes. So, i finally make my way to a long awaited hot shower in a nasty lil bathroom. I'll just close my eyes and think of england i was thinking. I get undressed step into the bathroom, as the whole bathroom is a shower, it's not like there's a designated shower area, it's just a showerhead sticking out of the wall right. I hate that. The whole bathroom is wet for days, in the case of being up in the north where it's cold. Anyway, fuck it. FUCK IT. I go to turn on the hot water and boom. There's no fucking knob. It must have brokn off. Ugh.I try some Macgyver-esque attempts but nothing, it's too slippery and too tight. So I have to get dressed, I'm pissed by now, and get someone to give me some fucking pliers so I can turn this fucking thing. Anyway, they had no idea what I was talking about, so i asked one of em to come up, they did, he understood, came back a few minutes with pliers, problem solved. Nice. Ok, so time for my shower, I open the hot water full. The old ass rusted fucking showerhead pushes out 5 needle sized lines, I won't even say sprays of water. Lines of water. No real strength to them but it's hot. Fine, wutever. So I take my shower. And you know what, I actually begin to enjoy it. But the whole time I'm thinking of home and how lucky we are for all these little things. A simple thing like a shower. I can't imagine what the kashmiri family would do for one week living in my place. They would never leave. They would stay in, watch tv, be amazed by the fridge, frolic in the tub, spend hours under the shower, cook crazy meals and then of course eat with their hands, but hey, you can't expect that to change, nor should it. Actually eating with hands is kinda cool. Today was my 5th day of doing that, or maybe 4th. Did it in a restaurant today for the second time. People couldn't quite figure me out i think. They see me walk in, i look like a kashmiri but backpack and clothes say otherwise. I sit and order and now they can tell i'm not kashmiri, but when the food arrives, i eat with my hands. Ha. I could see them watching me and asking each other questions, or making comments, definitely making fun of me too. Hehe. I'm not used to having eyes on me all the time, but it happens often in this place. Anyway, I'm clean. I'm clean and I'm warm and in clean clothes and it's beautiful. I've already gotten used to my soiled surroundings and imagine a good sleep. I've set up my sleeping arrangement and am lying in bed finishing off my little journal for the day. Hmm. See, that wasn't really a story at all was it. Anti-cimactic in fact. But that's cause I truly suck at telling stories. IN the hands of the right person, and a small twist at the end, and this would have been a fun story for a traveler to tell a newbie, no? I'll have to add my travel back to Jammu from Srinigar tomorrow. I can't do it now.

Appendix:

So, my day yesterday. Woke up early, after not really sleeping much, got dressed, blah blah, said bye to the family, all of them except for Bilal, who wasn't around, and went on my way. Take a rickshaw to the Somu. I get there, was quoted 450, brought them down to 400, and then realized everyone was paying 3. Fucking hell. Again. I gotta find a way to change this getting jacked thing. I should just take my time fuck. I’m trying. Anyway, it wasn’t nearly as cold this time, but I was stuck in the back, wedged in with 3 other guys. I had no real view and no real way to take pics, not that it mattered since it was rainy and foggy the whole time. Anyway, we seemed to make good time, but towards the end it just dragged on and we found out the road got closed only a couple hours after we had gotten on it, but it was ok as it was closed behind us and not in front. Thank god. As much as I hated leaving, I just felt like I couldn’t stay there anymore. I needed out.

The view was no where as striking as it had been on the way there, the time when I lost all the images. Fuck. But it was ok, I had gotten what I needed and I left satisfied but drained and still lonely. It would get worse as it seems a little while later, but not having seen or talked to another foreigner, was definitely something that colored my experience, both good and bad. Jammu, got in, went straight to the hotel, dropped my bag, went to the net café, sent out some work, lost a client, didn’t care too much, spoke to jad, got some worrying news bout finances, then went to the hotel to end the long day, stopping off for food at a kashmiri meat shop. Ate with my hands, got strange looks, carried on. Got to my room, showered for the first time in ages, and crashed a couple hours later.