Eric woke up very early and inadvertently woke me and Cecily up. After Eric was done, Cecily and I hopped in the bathroom. The contents of the bathroom were as such: a toilet and sink, both very modern and nice; all four walls were tiled, as was the floor, which sloped downward to a drain in the corner of the room; a shower head that didn't work; a faucet lower down, a bucket to collect water from that faucet, and a smaller bucket to, y'know, make easier access to the water. So that you could bathe with it. Uhm, le duh. Actually, it's sort of a rad way to bathe. After three weeks, I was very glad to have a real, hot shower, but it was still quite fun. And much less wasteful of water.
After Cecily and I showered and got ready [yes, we showered together, and no, we are not dating-deal. completely platonic. we were getting clean. (we DID get a lot of guff about it though, hence the sort of angry explanation. Eric refused to accept that we were just showering-after a while Cecily and I gave up and just went along with it-hilariosity ensued)], and not knowing what time it was, I took my meds. Turns out it was five in the morning, and here's the thing. That did not go well for me. My body got friggin' piiissed. So I vomited and then got on with the day; after I ate I felt pretty good. But, back to my chronological tale involving too much detail.
I tossed the bucket (what a delightfully crude colloquialism, no?) and Eric was really freaked out. He kept trying to come into the bathroom but Cecily kept shoving him out. Men do not handle situations well. (Broad, inaccurate statement Mondays!) Welp, once that was over, we all went down the hall to the dining room (which we later slept in, by the by) and munched. They had the most delicious stuffed parantha, but the first day on account of stomach upset I just had toast and jam. The toast was adorable, because no toasters? So, oven toasted toast. It was the strangest consistency too, because they obviously don't really make white bread the same as in the states. And the jam was much too too sweet. A thimbleful was too much for one piece of toast. Also?! Mango juice! Sooooo tasty. Mangoes are the best fruit ever, this I posit. Here's the thing, if we're ever in a fight? Invite me to a park to share a mango with you. I will love you forever.
Alrighty, well. Since the three of us had gotten up much too early, we finished breakfast before a lot of the kids were even awake. As such, Cec and I were sort of anxious to be doing something or anything because hullo, we were in India. So we convinced Eric to take us out and about, around the block that we didn't cover the night before. It was crowded and warm already, and the pollution was thick, and the streets smelled of sewage and people and fruit. It was great.
Eric bought us some paan, which is an...hum, like a homemade chew? It involves many different spices, tobacco, and lime paste all wrapped up in a betel leaf. You put it in the pocket of your cheek and suck on it, occasionally spitting out the juice. It was...interesting? I prefer other intakes of tobacco myself. Though, some fool in our group, I can't remember who it was, it might have been Josh? They chewed and ate the paan. You suck on it, then spit it out, and they ate it! Ohh, nasteh. The flower vendor sitting next to the paan vendor gave me two red carnations, they were lovely. Flowers are always lovely to receive though. Ask anyone. Except Jamie. She's weird. I love her so bad though, it's okay.
After that, Eric took us to "his" barber, a lovely little shop consisting of three walls, and filled to the brim with everything. Eric sat on one of the chairs and young boy, about 12 or 13, shaved him (not completely, obviously, just a trim), and Cec and I sat on the other chair, and got our pictures taken a lot.
You spent half of your life trying to fall behind; you're using your headphones to drown out your mind ~ Eet by Regina Spektor
