Saree Not Saree: India 2013

It's funny how time and distance change you, the roads you take don't always lead you home.



We woke early, do you sense a pattern? Keddy had me up early every day. I kid you not one day she said, “Let’s sleep in tomorrow” then set her alarm for 9. See what I have to deal with! We got some breakfast and some amazing coffee and went to Amber Fort for the morning. After climbing up the Rajastani version of Golconda Fort in the desert, we were exhausted and opted to people watch in the plaza rather than pay the Rs 100 student entery fee out of sheer laziness.


We had some time to kill before our elephant romp, so we did what Emma and Keddy do best and incringe on small neighborhoods. We love wandering down dirt paths to see where they lead—sometimes good, sometimes not. This time we lucked out as we happened into someones yard where a one armed man was tending to his camel. SIDE NOTE: the man next to me just let out the worlds largest “on purpose public fart” like someone call the worl record people because we have a winner. Too much curry for one morning. I had been on a camel before at the Bedoin tents in Israel and knew how much they tilted when standing. I had Keddy, who is affrad of heights, mount the camel bareback. As it stood up, the look on her face was priceless and I gave the guy a huge tip just for letting us play with his pet. We had gathered a huge following of kids by now and they were all begging for pens. We had been told during orientation that kids in India LOVE pens, but we did not take those wise wrds seriously enough because INDIAN KIDS LOVE PENS. If an American kid loved a pen even half as much as an Indian kid then maybe we would be ranked higher in academics. Just saying. We headed to the corner store for pens as they trailed, their smiles getting larger as they realized our motive. Bouncing around the one street neighborhood, those kids proved to us that we had not only made their day, but their week, and maybe year.


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This entry was posted on May 9, 2013 by .
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