Tuesday, April 26 2005, 12:55pm
It’s been a while (well...a week?) since the last e-mail, so there's a few things to tell. I’ll try to keep it short though, as I realise gap year stories are like famines in Africa; we all pretend to care, but if we’re honest, the only people who give a shit about them are the people taking part.
So this weekend we went up into the mountains to Thekadie, which is a wild life park and Tiger reserve. It was really beautiful and was a chilly 22oC so it was a nice break from the heat of Tamil Naidu. It took about 6 hours on the bus, which wasn't too bad as the scenery was really impressive, and as we got higher into the hills there were monkeys and peacocks and waterfalls to keep us entertained.
We checked into the Coffee Inn which was like something from Cristal Maze or I'm a Celebrity... because there were no regular hotel rooms, but instead just several tree houses, grass huts and two cottages in this little clearing with palm trees and a little pond in the middle. It was really comfortable and quiet (except for the fucking bull frogs, the monkeys and the various birds. Seriously nature, no one cares). We also had a little observation tower that looked out over a marshy glade where the water buffaloes grazed and swam. It was probably the best place we've stayed in so far, but if I’m honest, that’s a bit like claiming to be the smartest kid on the sunshine bus because all the other hotels and guest houses have been cockroach infested cesspits.
On Saturday morning we got up at 5:00 am (I thought only Victorian children who worked in cotton mills had to get up at that time) and went into the wildlife park for a guided boat ride. It was rubbish. There were hundreds of screaming and whining children, adults who shouted and flashed their cameras and tour guides who talked constant crap. For example, they like to use the word "wild" to make lame animals seem interesting. Case in point; a chicken on one side of the park gates is just a chicken, but once it stumbles across the boundary it suddenly metamorphoses into a "wild hen". Later I saw a stray dog, exactly like the flea bitten mange covered one that lies in the sun licking its balls outside the hospital all day, but in the park it suddenly becomes a "wild dog". Ooooh! The pigs are called "wild boar" and the cows (literally just cows) are "wild bison". It cost an arm and a leg too and they like to charge you at every opportunity, from hiring binoculars to paying entrance to the park and then again for boat ride tickets. I know that it helps to subsidise the conservation, but when you’re conserving mongrel dogs it seems a little rich. There was this one guy who tried to sell me a bead necklace for $10 American and wouldn’t take no for an answer...so I punched him in the throat and stole his stupid necklace.
We spent the rest of the day relaxing, reading, and trying to get over the astounding mediocrity of the boat ride. Everyone else had a nap, but I had discovered the local coffee, which was strong and thick and only 30RP for a half pot (3 cups). After 2 of these, I was a little too wired for sleep and decided to explore, take some photos of the water buffalo and maybe climb a tree or two. I even managed to wangle my way into a local cricket match, but I was soon run out (resulting in a throat punching for my batting partner) and was sent out to field, far, far away from any of the action where I wouldn’t be tempted to throat punch anyone. I hadn't eaten much yet (a pancake and the 2 pots of coffee) and I was feeling a little strange. I started shaking quite a lot and all my coordination was gone, with my vision deteriorating rapidly as well and although I’m no doctor, I took that as a bad sign. I decided to retire to the pavilion where I had some food and tried to get my heart beat organised into something reassembling a regular rhythm. The cricket guys were all really nice (even though I was shit and kept imaginary throat punching them) so before I went we all posed for a big team photo. It was like something out of a patronizing Comic Relief appeal, with me playing the part of Lenny Henry. Except, you know…whiter…and er, funnier.
On Saturday night we all went out for dinner to the exotically named Jungle Cafe. We were really impressed by their extensive menu featuring cuisine from Israeli to Mexican, and were spoilt for choice. After about half an hour of pouring over the thick menu we were ready to order. We wrote down what we all wanted and took it to the waiter guy which is apparently the way they did it at this place for some reason. It kind of made the waiter a bit obsolete if I’m honest. He looked over our orders, saw that we had ordered a wide variety of Indian (Chicken curry) Mexican (fajitas) and even Israeli (pita and humus) food and then said "yes this is all fine...but we only have spaghetti". Apparently if we wanted what we’d ordered he could send someone to the market to buy it, but it’d take about an hour plus cooking time. We obviously decided to eat somewhere else and left. Well, after I'd punched him in the…well, you know. It’s a nice example though of the terrible organization and laid back way that things are done here.
On Sunday Ben and I got up early to pack and get ready to check out, but were greeted with the news that one of the girls was really ill (Nickie) and that we were going to have to stay another day. We were obviously gutted to be staying an extra day in the mountain paradise and dropped to our knees to question this decision...shirts were torn open, whys where shouted at the sky and syllables were theatrically elongated.
Sunday was even more relaxing than Saturday and even more time was spent sleeping and reading...except by me, which was partly because I was still a little fidgety from the coffee and partly because I don’t see the point in going to India so that you can spend all your time napping. I decided to go exploring again and soon found myself completely lost in the woods surrounding the town. After about 30 minutes of wondering around, literally 10 yards from the cricket pitch, I was barked at by some mysterious jungle beast which caused me to nearly soil myself. Looking around for the rabid mutt or “wild dog” that was about to sink its teeth into my thigh, I was greeted by a very angry looking deer. If you can tell when a deer is angry. I did not appreciate this, but refrained from punching it in the throat mainly because it looked mean and it's hard to punch when you're running the other way like a girl, tears streaming down your pathetic cheeks.
On Sunday night we managed to slap Nickie back to consciousness (I suggested we poke her in the eye or set the bed on fire. Just a small fire obviously) and dragged her limp body out to dinner. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake because about an hour after we got back there was a knock on our door. It was about 11:30 and Nickie had got worse and was shaking and had a high temperature. We decided to go and find a doctor, which I thought was a waste of time that would be better spent getting a start on her grave. You’ve got to dig deep otherwise the corpse ’ll be dug up by dogs and curious children you see? Anyway, this idea was pooh-poohed, especially by the delirious Nickie, so Emma, Natalie (two of the girls...duh) and I went into town to find the hospital. I was also keeping an eye out for a funeral parlor because it’s never a bad idea to think ahead. When we got there it was pretty deserted so we walked round the back and I managed to find some very giggly nurses who I brought to speak to the girls. We told them we needed a doctor so after some whispered conferring, some more giggling and sniggering they went and knocked on the doctor’s door. He refused to get up and told the nurses to deal with us, presumably whilst being fanned with palm leaves and eating a massive cartoon drumstick. The nurses gave us one paracetamol and said to come back in the morning. This really annoyed us so we kicked them in the shins and legged it. We spent another hour or so walking about the town being barked at (by dogs this time) and chased by pigs, but couldn't find another doctor. Eventually we gave up and went back to the hotel where luckily, for Nickie at least, things seemed to have calmed down slightly. It was a good thing we arrived back when we did as well, as Ben and Nat had heard that an isotonic solution of salts and sugars was great for rehydrating the sick and had mixed her one themselves. Except they didn’t have any sugar so were really just giving her a glass of salt water to drink, which whilst, as I keep pointing out, I’m no doctor I’m pretty sure isn’t the best thing for rehydrating people. Nickie survived through the night in the end and so the whole I snuck out to dig went totally to waste. On the walk back from the doctor’s one of the girls dropped into the conversation that Nickie wasn't taking malaria tablets because they made her feel unwell. Not as unwell as Malaria’ll make you, but that’s her gamble. We’ll have to wait and see how this progresses. I think that's what she's got...or I hope so...it'd be a great story. Mainly only for me, but…that would detract nothing.
Nothing much else has happened...very little does in the week.
hope you're all ok and I’ll try to reply to some individual e-mails a.s.a.p
No comments:
Post a Comment