Patience Children

I spent 40 minutes yesterday uploading photos that never made it to the blog. The Internet in Jalgaon is actually steam powered, so depending on the initial temperature of the water the "broadband" isn't always fast enough to accomplish things. We'll try again tomorrow. Until then, enjoy this yarn from the last moments of my South Tour as I waited for a train in Mumbai.

[As written on hotel paper in a letter to a friend]

"How did Dan come across such classy, classy paper?", you wonder. This sheet of half baby elephant tusk, half diamond and half pearl is strictly the stuff of high rollers-- true. Unfortunately in India white skin is as good as power, fame and a billion dollars; enough to let me sneak into a world of fancy paper and too much money.

My relatively new lifelong friend Adam and I strutted through the front doors of the internationally acclaimed Taj Hotel with overstuffed backpacks and scuzzy clothes. We weren't wearing shoes at the time as part of our goal of living cheaply and like most Indians. Also, not wearing shoes for days on end is the definition of freedom. But I digress.

The Taj employees opened doors wherever we walked, smiling that you're-rich-and-I-work-for-you ass-kissy smile. As Adam and I pored over a lunch menu far beyond our spending power a pretty blonde woman in a hotel uniform handed me a free newspaper wrapped in what I could only guess was unicorn hair.

When we walked by the 2nd inner courtyard swimming pool Adam noticed an unattended poolside lunch on a charming wicker table.

"If you're going to do something do it right," I reminded him. He gave an affirmative nod. The next moment we mustered the nerve to sit at some actual hotel goers table and feast like there was no tomorrow.

Though helped by the fact that it was free and I was excited, the chocolate and mocha cake with Cadbury Dairymilk shavings on top was coincidentally the greatest piece of cake in history. I ate slowly--the way it was meant to be done-- and with a nervous eye to the door, ready to scatter when the real people came.

Somehow Adam and I enjoyed our 10 minutes of delicious fantasy/blatant theft uninterrupted. Adam swiped an exceptionally crumbly piece of French bread for the walk out. When we passed someone who looked like money Adam chomped down with fervor, letting crumbs plummet to the Persian rug and reminding the on-looker that there's no escaping smart-ass kids trying to destroy the atmosphere of an all too clean and quiet hotel. That is, if they were the sort of on-looker who's put off by fallen crumbs at a five star locale.

The rest of my India trip has not been spent in such luxury..."


I'm making Rotary proud one day at a time. Remember: it's a crime if you get caught and a good story if you make it out the door.