My Triumphant Return From The Colonies

Monday 27th June 2005, 12.03 pm

Dear all,

this is the last of Benji's fantastic e-mails (unless I get bored in Mumbai) so enjoy, savor and cherish it. You could print it off if you like...maybe frame it, sleep with it under your pillow, or use it to dry your tears during the long lonely nights? The nights are the hardest for you aren’t they? I understand…Benji always understands…come in for a hug…there, much better right?

So here I am at the end of my travels, the end of my gap year and on the brink of the start of real life again. From dusty and almost entirely rubbish Karaikudi, through laid back and empty Portuguese Goa, through Victorian Mumbai and into sweltering Delhi, India has been an amazing experience. There’ve been highs, there've been lows, there's been diarrhea and there's been constipation, there’ve been dry days and wet days and India has seemed like a hundred different countries all at the same time, with different foods, clothes, languages and varying ranges of appalling service and undercooked poultry. At times I’ve hated it, at times I’ve loved it, but I’ve rarely been bored. Except for that week in Goa when all I seemed to do was go to the cinema and help Ben look for his pipe and slippers or read to him from Reader’s Digest (he has problems with the small print, and since he left his magnifying glass at the Bingo, I had to read it for him). Seriously, fuck that guy.

Someone asked me the other day on MSN if India had changed me and this got me thinking; what a stupid fucking new age piece of bullshit to say to someone. The answer was a definite no. No wait…er, I mean a definite yes…like, I appreciate spirituality and eastern mysticism and shit now. Also, I’ve developed a deep mistrust of foreigners that drives me to whole new levels of sarcasm and cynicism (“oh gee, I’m so glad you’ve brought me this plate of undercooked and almost certainly diseased bones and skin!”).

On an average day I will doubt someone’s intentions at least 5 or 9 times which has turned me into a John Nash style paranoid delusionist (like a magician, except I’m convinced other people are constantly pulling ticks); in Mumbai I was crapped on by a bird outside the Library, and a passing Indian business man stopped, opened his briefcase and used a piece of what looked like his paper work to clean the shit off my shoulder. I tried to stop him, because I thought he was going to ask for money, but when my shirt was clean, he just closed his briefcase and walked away. That is what traveling has done to me; I assume everyone is out to fleece me, trying to get my money by hook or by crook. It’s a shame really, and there’s an obvious lesson to be learned there- don’t stand directly under a bird, or you will get shit all over you. Oh, and something about people…er, intentions…er…judging? Whatever.

Secondly, I’ve started to really appreciate some of the things we take for granted in the west. Here is a list, in no order:

Cornflakes

Solid shits

Decent TV

Beer on tap

Nice crisps

Readily available internet pornography

Boring weather.

Normal chocolate (I don’t know what they’ve done to their chocolate here, but it is just all wrong)

Pavements

Cooked meat

Oh and all that being rich and not dying at 40 of TB...that’s pretty cool as well I s’pose.

India has also taught me the value of friends. Oh actually I mean the value of the pound, which is kind of like my main friend anyways. It's really cool how rich I am out here! These silly people, their money’s not worth the paper I wipe my arse with (though sometimes, the two have been one in the same). I’ve also learnt, as you might remember, to suppress my gag reflex and eat anything that's put in front of me, and since traveling with Ben for a month and sharing a room with him, I’ve become adept at taking every opportunity for a little...ahem..."Benji time", that I can get. He also tried to teach me how to knit and how to organise his various tablets so that he knows when to take them. These are just some of the very important life skills I’ve developed. That’s several new points on my CV, and at just several hundred pounds each, cheap at twice the price! At least, that’s what I’m telling my mother.

So what's changed since my last e-mail? Well firstly, and as only some of you remembered this may come as news to you, I had my first sub-continental birthday. That right, I am now a whole year older. Well Indian birthdays suck anyway, so I suppose you're all forgiven, plus I’ve never really enjoyed birthdays but I do feel it’s my prerogative to moan at you for not remembering, so hang you heads in shame. I also went to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. It was pretty good, no Durham cathedral (but then what is?) but still good for something a nation who produced Bollywood Cinema could come up with. No to be honest, it was the single most impressive thing I’ve ever seen (except this girl on the bus I used to get to school, who could fart on demand...now that's a life skill) (sorry, I just can’t stay serious for that long). I doubt if any of the photos i took of it could ever do it justice, it was just far too amazing. I really was very impressed. The rest of Agra was a real hole though...you'd think they'd sort that out maybe?

Anyway, that's about all. I leave Delhi on Wednesday and get a train journey almost as long as the flight Nathan and Joe are getting back from Ozz...TWENTY THREE HOURS, on my own too, so that'll be a whole lotta fun. Then I spend the rest of Thursday, and Friday in Mumbai on my own, before flying back to the waiting arms of my beloved England...with its infrastructure and clean running water (I think I may cream myself). Hope you're all ok, and don't worry it won’t be long until I’m back.

keep the home fires burning or something poetic.

Realisations

Tuesday May 25th 2005

Hey Tim,

I’m definitely not coming home in early June, as that’s only about a week’s time (I think it's the same in England, but I still haven’t quite got to grips on the time difference). I should be back in July, although I'm not sure when. I'm probably going to stay one night with Emlyn (whether he likes it or not) to see his new house, and maybe to take in some more of London town; marvel at it's drainage system, refuse collection and basic sanitation. I'm so excited!

I made a similar joke the other day to the one you made about Emlyn dying and you advising me to move on with my life (that was a joke wasn't it...?) when one of the girls was really sick. I suggested we cut our losses and get over her, maybe even get a tomb stone cut. "Hell...I’m totally over Nickie" I said, to an incredibly icy reception. It was only her in the room at the time I suppose, but jeez, you think she could take a joke, ‘m I right?

Another joke I regret now is the one about kicking and/or punching necks. So many people didn't get that and I think people have become concerned. Two of my friends bumped into one another and they both decided that my e-mails were too violent and I think Mom's believes I'm on a one man GBH rampage across Asia. Since then I’ve left out my stories about standing on throats, poking eyes and stamping livers. Even when they've been true...

Ben is a bit shit I've decided, and it is a shame. I think I've only realised this since I've been left with him and the boring 23 year olds and him for company. I got on much better with the old crowd and only realised my dislike because it's all concentrated Ben Time now. On the other hand, when we go on the TPA weekends I seem really fun and up for adventure in comparison, because he’s spent most of the weekends in bed and making sure he hasn't got Werther's Originals stuck in his denchers. I'm sure he is way tired of me by now as well though. We've spent pretty much every waking moment together for the last two months.

I will be safe from now on...Ben can save his own day in future.

I’ll let you know the day I’m getting back, but I t might be a Sunday I’m not sure. It depends when my flights are for

hope you're ok

love Benj

Braaains...arrg...braaaains!

Monday, 9 May 2005 11:34am

hey everyone

firstly, sorry to those of you who haven’t been getting my group e-mails. I know how you people are relying on them to distract you from the Orwellian nightmare that is your grinding daily existence. I’ll make some changes and hopefully there won’t be to many more problems...even though I’m nearly half way through my trip, I’m sure there'll be plenty more to come.

So this week I saw a guy who'd been in a motorcycle crash and had his head pealed by the pavement. No really, like an orange. His scalp was hanging off like a thick peace of tough stake. It was pretty rough really. He'd been drink-driving and was still trollied (literally...they had no spare beds) when he was brought in. They didn't even sedate him as they began cleaning his skull and forcing the stitching needle through his thick leathery head skin. It was pretty gruesome, but on the plus side (for me anyway) he did end up with a very comedy hair cut...they shaved all his hair to the skin except for his mono-brow...a great look! He was so drunk though that he wasn’t likely to notice. In fact when we first came down and saw him lying in reception on the trolley, Ben and I both thought he was a dead’ne until he started to moan slightly and move about. He stank of booze as well. I’m not sure they could do much more than stich him up, and he was sent to a larger hospital in Madurai for some head scans.

We got back from Tanjour yesterday afternoon, and so concluded the travels of our little group of volunteers, as the girls all left this morning. it wasn't the most activity packed weekend but was still eventful and lots of fun. the new girl Amy arrived on Thursday, into a hail of bitching and complaining about TPA and their handling of the theft of Emma’s money. I think we've all been here long enough and the novelty has sufficiently worn off, so Thursday was spent telling her all about how rubbish a lot of the stuff is, and warning her about the thieving family that she was going to have to stay on her own with. I think it was a bit of a negative introduction to India really, but never mind. she's 23 and she's already been to university and done grown up stuff. If anything, I think she may have been shocked to see 18 year olds and the way we behave. I for one (as most of you probably know) am not the most adult 18 year old, and none of the others are much better. Anyway, so she's a little lame, but she might get more interesting. We will have to wait and see.

On Friday we arrived in Tanjour, which is by all accounts is a bit of a hole, but we had TV and a sit down toilet so it was still nice to be away from the hospital. That night we went to a restaurant in town that was supposedly the only passable eatery in the town. I chose the "Brain Fry" from the menu, not really knowing what it was, but expecting at the very most little bite sized pieces of brain...if brain at all; a lot of the menus out here have hilarious spelling mistakes on them (humus/humans and pita, crab/crap soup etc.) Unfortunately it surpassed even my wildest of expectations, and turned out to be an entire goat brain, stem et al, and it was completely un-adulterated. It was like a biology lesson rolled into a meal. You could see clearly all the different bits (the names of which I don't know, but I did recognise) and you could even make very thin microscope style slides...not that I was playing with my food or anything. In the end I put it out of my head that my meal was capable of complex thought processes and even basic problem solving abilities, and I just ate the brainy bastard. it was very strange and didn't taste like much (not even chicken, which was quite an unsettling realisation) and had one of the most stomach churningly rank textures of anything I’ve ever put in my mouth (*insert innuendo here*). Luckily hardly anyone else finished their meals, so after eating my brain (never thought I'd say that again) I at least had everyone else’s leftovers, which was nice. I think I may have worms though because I seem to be capable of consuming roughly the same quantity as the population of Sudan (actually, that’s not saying much) but I am yet to gain any weight. I do have an incredible urge to eat grass though and a strange goat like…compul…compulsion to…ba…baaaaa…BAAAA!

Anyway, not much else happened this weekend. Temples were visited, Indians stared at us, photos were taken, elephants were seen and copious amounts of very liquidy shit was passed. I think the brain fooled my stomach into not digesting it fully. goats are cleverer than we give them credit for...when we eat their brains. it wasn't too bad though and I’m glad to say I’m back to passing shapes rather than volumes.

On Sunday we had by far the most expensive meal we'd ever had at a really posh hotel (they had ice in the toilets for some unfathomable reason). We had bacon, egg, sausages, tea and coffee, cornflakes, toast fruit juice and oranges, bananas & pineapple. It all came to about the price of a McDonalds breakfast thought I suppose the origin of the meat was more questionable (if that’s possible). It was still nearly as much as our accommodation for the whole weekend though! Sometimes I love this country (well I love how shit poor it is...)

So this morning all the girls left, (except for rubbish Amy) and now Kraikudi is quiet and empty and dull. Boredom has a name, and its name is Amy. Never mind, Ben and I are off to the leprosy clinic on Wednesday for the rest of the week so that'll be cool. it's supposedly really interesting there, with good facilities and cleaner rooms; again though, the competition isn’t exactly stiff. We're going with someone called Henry or Hendrich, we're not sure, but I’m hoping he's not German, because I’m still waking up angry at night thinking about that twat Norman. Also I'm a little bit apprehensive about living in the same building as leopards. what'll happen if they escape!?

So that's about it, I can't be bothered to write anymore anyway and the last week or so has been so boring there isn’t much to say. Only 12 days left in our little hospital, and then we hit the road. I really can't wait as I’m starting to get itchy feet (although it could be fungal).

Dave, good luck with your exams, they must start soon (oh and the rest of you at uni too, if you have any)

Sara, the cesarean was cool, but incredibly messy. I can't imagine why you'd want to be a midwife; do you hate women or something?

Paul it'll clear up if you use the ointment. I know it stings, but you shouldn't have been playing with it so much ;)

Visa vie

Tuesday, March 22, 2005 2:38pm

Shit-sticks, I just realised I’m flying to a whole ‘nother country in a week. Seven days! I have to go down to London a day early too, because I have to go and arrange my Visa in person at the Indian embassy. I didn't get the form from Teaching and Projects until it was too late to post off, so I phoned them to let them know and the guy who took my call was a real BASTARD (that’s right, a BASTARD in CAPITAL LETTERS). He was doing the whole "mmmm......ahhh...." in that tooth sucking, ho-humming that plumbers do when they're about to tell you that you’re going to need the GDP of an African Nation to afford what they’re planning on doing to your pipes. He even played the "I’m actually meant to be on my lunch break" card, before completing the set of bad customer services and hitting me with "if you'd done this earlier it'd be ok, but I’m off tomorrow and don't really want to leave work for my colleagues, you've definitely fouled up the whole system". To be fair, I don't think he knew who I was. I should have reminded him that I’m the person who paid nearly £2000 to go and work for free in the god-damn Third…sorry, “Developing” World, and I’m probably helping to put his kids through the counseling they'll no doubt need after having such an impossibly irritating man as a father; “You need your nappy changing? Well, that’s really more of your mother’s department, and I’m about to go on my lunch break…”

Anyway, so that means I’m going down on Wednesday and I still haven't got either of the two checks I was promised (from my wealthy relatives and my not so wealthy city council). although I am going to dinner with the relatives on Monday...I’m not sure what seems a more daunting prospect- going to live and work in a leprosy clinic in India, then leaving all on my own to spend 2 months traveling through a country where I don't speak the language and have a realistic chance of catching some Outbreak style blood disease...or dinner with my aunt and uncle...*gulp*

I dreamt about spiders last night. And also sharks. I think my dreams were at their most symbolic they've been for a while. First there was this spider, and it seemed huge and really scary and I was afraid it would bite me. but then this EVEN BIGGER spider which seemed like it had far more legs and fangs and shit came out of this hole and ate the first spider, before turning its multi-eyed attention to me.

The shark one was also very weird and scary. I was in the ocean in India and these massive tidal waves started coming in, dumping people like turds in a toilet. It was all really fun at first...at first. They started getting bigger and all around there were loads of people having loads of fun, and generally being completely unaware of the danger my unconscious mind was putting them in. Suddenly this really big toothy bastard of a shark came swimming from the gloom and started biting people. There was a smaller fish which it decided to eat, but the smaller fish had other ideas and decided to hide behind me. Or I decided that the fish would hide behind me. I’m never sure with that kind of distinction during dreams. Anywho, I managed to dodge the lunges of this shark, and punch it on the nose, but then (and see if you can spot the similarities here) an EVEN BIGGER shark came and ate the first one, before biting me on the hand (because I’d tried to punch it on the nose again. That was kind of my go to solution to all shark related problems at that time).

I think what my dreams are trying to say (and this really is of no comfort to me at the moment) is that no matter how bad I think something is, or how scary it seems at the time, or how much of a problem it is....there are always ways in which I can be in even deeper shit. Also, that punching things on the nose won’t help, which really sucks because it’s not just in my dreams that this is my Plan A.