Monday, December 03, 2007

Food, Beer, and Cricket

That's hilarious! I clicked in the Title box and they offered my the option you see above. I could have changed it, but hey, why not talk about food, beer, and Cricket? They're worth a post.

Let's see Food first I guess.

Food is yucky for me I find myself getting sick once a week if I eat anywhere but at this little place called "Blue Sky" on Sudder Street. This is killing me though as I am quickly becoming tired with their menu, and exhausted in funds because of their prices. The servers are good fellows though, and so many of my acquaintances/volunteer friends go there that the company is always interesting when eating there. I am anxious to have a little kitchen of my own and the ability to buy ingredients and prepare food for myself and friends. HAPPILY I am able to report that this wish of mine is not too far away from becoming a reality as I have accepted the offer of a small apartment, which has a very small kitchen, at the price of 100 Rupees a night! My own bedroom, wardrobe, tiny bathroom with shower (cold water only) and toilet, and tiny kitchen with propane tank below shelf which hold my 2 burners! Hooray! It's only about 7 minutes walk from Mother House too, which means I can be lazier in the morning and wake up at 5:45 instead of at 5:25. Very happy about that too...

Oops, I digress form my predestined subjects: Food, Beer, and Cricket!

Beer.

Beer, is beer, is beer, I don't care much about it though I have made a few observations about it. The alcohol content in the beer in India is extremely low! Amazingly low, but the serving size is huge, so whatever. I don't drink here, though I have paid for 2 beers, both "Kingfisher'' which states on the bottle that it is only sold in West Bengal. And subsequently makes me think that it truly must be the crappiest beer in (the world) India if they can't sell it anywhere but West Bengal! But hey it cost the equivalent of Fiddy-cents, and what do I care anyways I don't drink!

Cricket.

I know nothing of Cricket. It looks sorta like a diseased form of baseball. It has a flattened bat that is swung almost like a golf club, a pitcher that runs to the point where he throws the ball, stakes in the ground, and large rings which I am thoroughly confused about. Makes no sense to me whatsoever, and yet the Indians seem utterly addicted to it! Fiercely devoted to watching every game that comes on the TV, they hover like...ahhhheemmm... around a you know what, converging on the poor common room at Salvation Army and taking all the seats and TV time for their games. Yesterday my British roommate, Rachel, found herself being dragged along with a crowd of Indians to a Cricket match. Somehow she was overlooked at the ticketing gate and got inside for free, but when she didn't have a seat she was chased out by a guard. She did however walk away with two arm bands, with Indian colors and the words "I LOVE MY INDIA" blazoned across the white middle. Although it was obvious to me that they were arm bands, Rachel told me that the men were wearing them on their foreheads. Sometimes I am so mystified about this land of people that can build computers, but not a broom which allows their women to not have to stoop to sweep their floors, which creates great minds like Ghandi and pricks like the man who followed my French friend and I half way back from Mother house this evening saying, (forgive me Mom and Juby) saying: "I like p***y, I like to f*** good p****". It baffles me, it enrages me, it confuses and bewilders me. This country has NO COMMON SENSE.

That is why their FOOD is always too spicy, sweet, or acidic, their BEER is lacking alcohol, and they love their CRICKET.

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