contrasts and paradoxes

we pulled into pushkar around 1 pm yesterday, settled into a very nice hotel (hotel everest,) and spent the evening exploring the town. 8 pm found us sitting on the steps leading down to the bathing ghats, where hindu pilgrims come to ritually immerse themselves in the holy waters of lake pushkar. the story is told that brahma dropped a lotus flower on the earth, and pushkar floated to the surface. a full moon was rising from the east, highlighting a string of candles lit along the bottom step of the river, while music celebrating the deity hanuman trickled down from the hindu temple to where we sat. the night had cooled considerably, and i said to jenni, "india is so awesome; there is nothing here that is remotely like america."

this morning we went back to the bathing ghats to watch the townsfolk and pilgrims wash in the lake. jenni walked around the lake while i sat in the hot shade, dealing with an upset stomach, a cow that kept poking me with its nose, and a string of pesky priests yelling instructions to the worshipers coming to the waters. jenni came back my way, and she began telling me about her walk around the lake, but i held up a finger to request a pause, and then rushed over to a rubbish bin to puke up last night's dinner; it looking surprisingly the same as when i ate it. as i leaned over the mouth of the rubbish bin, the 100 or so flies deep down inside of the bin came shooting up at me as the vomit hit their nesting ground, and i felt inclined to hack again. but hacking can feel rather nice at a time like that, and i was forced to recognize the truth in what many have said before: that india is a country full of contrasts and paradoxes.


while i am really enjoying pushkar, (although today i am still feeling somewhat sluggish - jenni too - we've been eating at the same places,) i really felt comfortable in ajmer. we strolled through the vegetable market next to our hotel, and took pictures, spent some time down by the lake before breakfast, and eventually went back to dargah sharif to meet with the khadim, syed fakhar mohammhed, who we'd met the night before after my less-than-desirable excursion into dargah with the other khadim. he took us both into dargah, and officiated for us in bringing the offerings into the holy place (which i discovered contains the tomb of a revered sufi, khwaja muin-ud din chishti; the pilgrims come to pay homage to him and pray that he might intercede on their behalf.)




the muslims come from all over, and some come with much pomp and celebration; we happened upon one pilgrimage that carried an SUV-sized prayer cloth and many baskets of flowers. we purchased a much smaller prayer cloth and one basket of flowers and then made our way inside. i decided at one point that i wanted to smell the flowers (we bought red ones interspersed with jasmine, and their scent was very compelling,) but i was chastised by syed fakhar; "the flowers are not to touch your nose," and so he took the tainted ones from the basket and threw them to the side. the hall was extremely crowded with worshipers, but we followed a guide inside while syed fakhar entered the tomb from another way so he would be prepared to meet us. i thought about crowd stampedes at football games in brazil and realized that this could easily happen here. with so many people pressed against each other, i could hardly move, and i had to lift my arms up so i could squeeze through the crowd. jenni, deftly balancing the basket of flowers and the prayer cloth on her head, continued to smile, while i utilized the ever-useful techniques of cognitive therapy to chase away my feelings of panic and claustrophobia.
we finally reached syed fakhar, who was positioned behind an enormous silver encasing that encircled the tomb of the sufi saint. he greeted and instructed us in the ritual, where we threw flowers onto the tomb, and received a blessing under the prayer cloth before it too was draped over the saint. the ritual was exciting and engaging, and syed fakhar, acting as our officiator, seemed genuinely happy with the occasion to assist us, and he even offerred us incense and rings as gifts after reemerging into the courtyard of dargah. for a time thereafter, we listened to the urdu devotional singing; a man led the chorus of singers ranging from maybe 11 years-old to elderly, and some had individual parts that folded into the collective singing with amazing harmony.
we capped the evening by eating with his family by the huge cauldrons (maybe 15-20 feet in diameter; it took 3 men to stir the dahl inside!) that are used to cook food for the poor - zegad, (one of the five pillars of islam.)

after leaving dargah, syed fakhar negotiated a price for our rickshaw ride back to the hotel. a rickshaw sat unattended, so one of the homeless boys offered to "borrow" it to pedal us back up into town for 10 rupees, (about 25 cents USD). syed fakhar insisted that we only pay the 10 rupees, to which we agreed, and we were off. and this was no ordinary rickshaw ride. the boy, aged about 11 or 12, was blind in his left eye - it was milky white - and so he couldn't see but half of what was happening on the road. additionally, he had a temper: at one point, another homeless beggar boy got in the way, to which our driver responded by stopping the rickshaw and jumping down from his seat to chase the boy before returning to his driving duties. and he tore up the street, cursing those in his way, and using his hand to push those aside that didn't move quickly enough. jenni was horrified that he would run over one of the several legless men that roll up and down the bazaar while holding metal cups for their collections. and we'd taken this route several times before without mishap, but add a half blind boy with a hot head, and its a completely different experience.
we whipped through the alleyways while he hollared, "whoooooooooooh! whooooooooh!" to warn people of his approach. he almost hit a motorbike, a dog, several pedestrians, a couple cars, and finally a huge cow, all while yelling, "whoooooooooooh! whooooooooooh!" and of course, i was sitting on the blind-left-eye side so all the near misses had me yelping in fear. the non-stop excitement rivaled any roller-coaster ride i've ever been on. (this ride isn't tested for safety every morning before the park opens.)
i was so happy to make it alive at the hotel, i gave him triple the agreed upon amount, to which he smiled a wide grin, wagged his head several times, and shook my hand before pushing off to return the rickshaw. jenni and i pushed off as well, glad to be alive, and even more glad to be tucked away in a small town in india - a truly amazing country.

a cow scratching its head


jenni and syed fakhar


me in a skull cap (required to enter dargah) in a much quieter rickshaw

wandering through ajmer

ajmer is the perfect contrast to the bustling crowds of delhi or the occasional scheming of jaipur, and i have felt at home here. we found our way to dargah masjid yesterday, one of india's holiest islamic pilgrimage sites. the bazaar leading up to the gates was busy with locals and those on pilgrimage purchasing flowers and holy cloths as offerings. i purchased a skull cap (topi) that i wore inside, after leaving my shoes, turned inward, at the door. jenni waited outside the front gate with our bags, because we weren't allowed to bring them inside. sadly though, the khadim (priest) that led me into the holy place of the masjid was a bit course in his manners. he rushed me through, and, after arriving at the holy place, which was packed with people giving offerings and seeking blessings under prayer cloths, he subsequently yelled at the other worshipers to get out of our way. his tone was harsh, and the worshipers didn't respond kindly to it - and at one point he got into a shoving match with a woman, where he finally pushed her off to the side so that we could pass. however, i met another khadim outside dargah, and he explained that this priest i had encountered was "a very bad" one. so he offered to lead me and jenni back into dargah masjid later today. (jenni ultimately did not go inside after deciding we'd just wait and go back the next day.)
but the carnival atmosphere of the street leading up to dargah masjid was something to behold. and we "whites" were a bit of an attraction. worshipers flocked up to us to take our pictures or have their pictures taken by us. i think their fascination with us is equaled by our fascination with them: we are constantly trying to sneak a picture of a group of women in beautifully colored saris, or a craggy-faced man in a turban. i think being from america doesn't help stem anyone's curiosity about us either. we are constantly told, "america is the number 1 country!" or "everyone wants to go to america!"
well, we wandered through the town as the evening set in, and we happened upon a wedding party, a group of men celebrating their completion of their exams, and preparations for a festival honoring hanman, a hindu god. we climbed the 150 or so steps to his temple and worshiped there before climbing back down to the streets below. the night cooled quite a bit, so we walked some more before heading back to the hotel. however, we became lost and found ourselves winding through a meandering alley. but along the way, we met a kid (raja) on a bike who told us of our error and then led us the kilometer or so back to hotel bohla. i was very tired after a good day in india and accidentally fell asleep in my clothes.

a quiz

so the first person to tell me whats going on in this picture will get a nice souvenir from india. please submit all answers in the comment section of this blog. friends and family of those in the picture are not eligible to play.

leaving delhi

i met up with jenni on tuesday morning, and we toured around delhi before leaving for jaipur. i was on a rickshaw to the train station when i saw her walking down the street; i called out to to get her attention - and then we went down to check on tickets. but its kinda weird, because even though our meeting wasn't random, when you are so far away from home, it still feels random to see somebody you recognize in such a different place. but we made haste with our day, and spent some time learning more about gandhi at his museum, before heading back to jama masjid so jenni could climb the tower.

this is a view from the train station area. go down the street to the left of this group of buildings, and you'll find the hotel where i stayed, hotel vishal. this isn't necessarily a recommendation for the room, but for the eatery up top. (jenni is the one that sent me there, and it was good.)


so jaipur is interesting, but i need more space and time to explain why. but as we were told by aly, "anything is possible in india." and here, walking down a city street, is proof:

and here is proof that jenni and i actually did meet up, and we were hijacked by some rickshaw drivers and driven all over town till we got to this really good restaurant. food just isn't as good in america. i don't know why. and my pictures are getting smaller cause this computer is getting slower.


so i think i will let jenni explain the mishaps of jaipur; i will accept some responsibility for the whole mess, but ultimately responsibility lies with the scammers, and the rickshaw driver that chased me from the street and up to my hotel room. (i was knocking on the door with quick punctuated taps for jenni to open up and let me in before i was accosted further.) and so all we could do at the end of yesterday was just laugh about it, and buy tickets for another town down the road. and that we did.

and above is a scene from jaipur, the pink city. may it rest in peace, and may tourists and visitors be aware of the dangers that lie therein. but we are enjoying the scene here in our new town: ajmer. we may stay here a couple of days - the town is small, the streets are narrow, the hotel is cheap, the food is great, and people are friendly. in fact, the guy in the internet cafe where we're at presently just offered to burn me a cd of hindi pop music. aint nothing better than that.

caste

when i boarded the plane from korea for india on last thursday, i picked up a copy of the hindustan times, an english language paper serving the delhi region, and i found an article about the indian supreme court ruling in favor of reservations for the obc's (other backwards classes) in institutes of higher learning. this is one of many attempts that india has made to resolve the many centuries of discrimination arising from the hindu-taught caste system.

since reading the article, i've been asking people about it whenever i get into a conversation, and i am not sure i understand it all yet. but based on what i've learned thus far, here is my mini-lesson on the complicated issue of the caste system in india (with more to follow later):

the caste system in india dates back to the writing of the vedas, the hindu holy text, at about 1500 bc, when the system was formalized. the four castes are the brahmin (priests and teachers), kshatriya (warriors), vaishya (merchants), and shudra (labourers); of course underneath all those are the untouchables, or the dalits "who hold menial jobs such as sweepers and latrine cleaners." so basically, one's social position is determined by birth, and this is justified by the holy writings - that teach that one's position is based on karma, or merit earned in a past life. and of course those of the higher castes wrote the holy texts. (and its even much more complicated that that - so look at linked article for details.)

the caste system is outlawed by the indian constitution, but it presently continues to determine one's social position, marriages, jobs, etc., although it is less pronounced in urban areas than in the rural parts of india. i spoke with surender, a dalit student yesterday who told me that the first question he is asked when he meets someone is "which caste are you from?" (but you shoulda heard him mock the questioners - pretty funny.) i guess it's similar to the fight against racial discrimination in america, india has come a long way in its attempts to stamp out the caste system. for example, a student from south india that i met at breakfast this morning (he is from the brahmin caste) told me that in the past, the brahmin were not even to look upon the untouchables - much less drink from the same water, or eat from the same bowl - or they'd risk defilement and have to perform complicated bathing rituals to clense themselves. so the indian government has attempted to inact reforms to ensure that the caste system is turned on its head, and so this is where the reservations (or quotas) come in.

but its so complicated, and everyone i ask has a different opinion. a few have thought that the reservations for the backward classes and other backward classes are a good idea, but others have strongly disagreed. so i will look into this more and post about it - with a few more explanatory notes about oc's, bc's and obc's... (i need to ask a few more questions, cause i am still confused.)

anyway... hope that wasn't too boring. i am heading out on the road tomorrow (i hope) so i will get back online when i can.

jama masid

i spent a good part of the day at jama masid, india's largest mosque that was also built under the rule of shah jahan, the force behind the taj mahal. the tower to the left is open for visitors, so i ventured up as the sun was going down.

before going up the tower, i spent some time learning basics about islam, which i know nothing about. this is part of the ten laws (or atleast as i was told by one of the students at the mosque) where adherents must wash before prayer. but more on this later.



this kid kept asking for his picture to be taken. this is his best. another nice thing about digital: one can afford to waste pictures.

i almost got pushed off into the shaft for the staircase by a big indian man. they need to do a better job about regulating the number of people up there at once, cause i had no room to stand.

anyway, a good representation of the expansiveness of delhi.

india through a train window

from agra northbound for delhi. (refer to the map.) my train left at 6am and arrived in new delhi sometime after 10 am.






i talked with jenni on the phone last night before leaving agra. she finally got to the internet and found all my frantic emails.

taj mahal

i had to switch hotel rooms. i got one in agra without a/c and it was too hot. so my new room is really nice, but cost more. but what is money? (if it was about money, i never woulda come on this trip.) when i was moving to my new room, the hotel porter asked me, "do you like..." - followed by some indecipherable hindi word. i could only answer, "uhhh..." so he follows it up with, "you know, very beautiful!" and then started making the shape of this unintelligible word with his hands. i immediately had a flashback to cambodia, when jacob and i were offered prostitutes as part of room service. i would've just said no, but i was still uncertain what he was asking - so i pressed further to find out, and he again made that same shape with his hands, although a bit more bulbous than the usual hand motions used to signify women in western culture. "very beautiful!"

and i am not sure how the brain works, or exactly what chemical fires across which particular synapse to allow for the comprehension of someone from another culture's communications - but something somewhere fired in my brain, and i finally understood that he wasn't trying to sell me a prostitute, but that he was asking if i liked the taj mahal. (and i swear, the way he said it sounds nothing like the way westerners say it. it's like that butter/parkay commercial: it's just not the same word.) well, hotel porter guy, the taj mahal is very beautiful - take a look at some of the pictures and see for yourself. i must say, i was a bit skeptical - i have been to wat angkor - but it is truly as amazing and overwhelming as they say it is...

trying not to judge what i don't understand

i sat next to a sikh man (judging by his dress) on the second leg of my trip. he runs a liquor store in LA and was trekking home for a ten-day visit with his elderly parents. he told me that he came to the u.s. five years ago because his children really begged him to come. he owned a manufacturing business in india and reluctantly sold it to bring his 3 teenage children to study in america; (his brother in america had filled out the immigration papers 10 years previous, but he never really thought he would be approved.) i guess the liquor business is really hard. he said he spends much of his day chasing alcoholics out of his store (or the juveniles without i.d.) and that they often become hostile. he said to me, "i didn't come to america for me, but for my children. i had everything in india, why should i want to come to america?"

but i think we became friends; he gave me advice for my trip and my life: "only eat fruits and vegetables. everything else either has too much spice or too much oils - to make it taste good, but it's not good for the body." also, "take a tour bus to agra. why would you want to take a train? this is your vacation, and so you should take a tour bus with the other tourists and save the headache!" and finally, "you are not married? i am very upset now. you should put an advertisement in the newspaper. then meet her and decide if she can be your permanent companion." (this plan is already in the works for his oldest son, age 25.) in the end, he read sikh holy texts to me, and i was glad for the company.

my arrival in delhi was a bit more chaotic. i hate having to run through the gauntlet of touts at the airport. without a guide book or a native, i knew i would be cheated - so i didn't try to avoid getting cheated, i just didn't want to get cheated too much. and i did get cheated, but within limits. (i mean i paid way too much for that ugly hotel i stayed in, with no window and dirty sheets. and i paid way too much for the taxi to get there. i couldn't find the prepaid stand! i looked everywhere.) but it takes a bit of mindfulness to ride in the back of a tuk tuk through traffic with all the near misses - an experience like none other. i guess i just tried to believe that some reason and logic exists behind all the cars-weaving-in-and-out-of-each-other madness. but i did almost jump up out the tuk tuk at one point: we'd turned down this quiet street, and i was feeling that the worst was behind me - when this rabid-looking dog jumped up at me from the street. it was just like one of those horror movies when the monster jumps from behind the closed door. i think i yelped. and it doesn't help that the travel nurse told me to avoid dogs - which are everywhere. india needs to take a hint from vietnam.


i made it to agra. but not by train; by bus. and that is always fun. but i found an india guide book along the way. a used 2007 lonely planet.

so i am here, even though its been an adjustment with the weather and the lack of preparation. but here are the top 5 reasons i know i am not in america anymore:

1. i paid only 25 cents for my "fast food" lunch (some meat pies that are to be dipped in curry; they were so good - and reminded me of why i came to india.)
2. when i walked out of my hotel this morning, the first thing i saw was a cow.
3. i don't see kids matching their nikes with their shirts and hats, but i have seen women matching their saris to the little dot on their foreheads.
4. my bus got stopped today by a herd of camels.
5. i went for 6 hours straight without seeing any white people - (until i got into this internet cafe.)

the sun is up in seoul

so i made it to seoul and i have a short layover. i am feeling more sluggish than i would've expected, but that could be cause i ate a whopper at the airport in seattle. i justified it cause i wouldn't be eating any beef once i arrived in delhi.

but despite that, i am enjoying the long flight; the plane sped along smoothly enough, and i brought 2 books to accompany me: a passage to india, and gandhi, his life and message for the world. the movies on the plane weren't that good, so i watched an unsubtitled korean action movie (you don't need to understand the dialogue for that kinda movie), and slept - three seats to myself! i left seattle with a few things undone, but i am quickly forgetting what they were.

the sun is still up here - coming in the big window in front of me.
so here is where i am going:

i should be somewhere up in the upper part (north?)
and this is who i am looking for:

so if you see her, tell her to check her email so she'll know i'm in country.

(notes on) travel plans

the taxi just called and is down there waiting on me....

i never heard from jenni, but i guess she will find out that i am there in india when she gets back to her email. better go now. i will look for a hotel when i get to delhi, and go to agra after that... i think.

not too sure what to do. i accidentally donated my guide book to the goodwill.

(notes on) preparations

so i just got an email this morning saying that my visa was mailed out at 10:23 am. which means i could be going on wednesday afterall... which leaves me in a situation cause i already told jenni i would be coming next wednesday. so looking at this, i gotta consider whether to go now or next week.

top 5 reasons to leave next wednesday the 16th.
1. jenni has already changed her schedule multiple times cause of me. (i think i am ruining her trip before i even get there.)
2. i aint ready. (i blew off this weekend thinking i had more time)
3. i can go to quiz night this thursday and watch surivivor
4. i aint ready. (taxes, assessments for work, fixing my car, laundry)
5. i aint ready. (i also need to get my meds, lightweight clothes, imodium ad)

top 5 reasons to leave this wednesday the 9th
1. gray mornings in seattle
2. brooke needs me to hurry back so i can vote for her.
3. i will miss just one episode of LOST if i leave this week
4. the temp in india is rising to unbelivably hot levels. get-there-while-you-can kinda thing
5. my work already switched the city audit to accommodate my schedule, and i think they'd rather i got back in time for it.

suggestions?

(notes on) anxieties

i got an email from jenni in india on wednesday, from which i quote:

"Hi Joseph,
Just wanted to check in and make sure your visa went through okay. Hopefully you applied for one already."

uh... visa? what visa? i don't think i even read the rest of the email. i got on the phone to lee (my travel agent; and she really is my travel agent cause i've known her for 7 years,) and simultaneously got online to look into this. you see, for Laos, cambodia, thailand - vacationers can get visas on arrival. vietnam is an exception and the visa must be requested in advance. so i was really left wondering if india really is one of those countries that requires a visa before departure. well,it is. lee didn't know, i never asked, and i didn't see any advertisements about it on the metro bus as it passed by. so let the anxieties begin.

so my wednesday took on a different focus: i had to blow off 3 appointments, and i found myself chasing all over the internet, the telephone lines, and finally, all over town to get this visa thing figured out. one guy in sf was pretty blunt: "if you need it by next wednesday you better just fly down to san francisco consulate to get it yourself." when i questioned him about fees, he told me i could just look it up on the website, like he was busy watching oprah or something. and then when i accidentally called him twice, he says, "i already told you, nobody can help you here."


if you wanna go thru him his number is 415 837 0771, (travisa.com). i don't like them (not cause they couldn't help, but because the guy seemed to have that silent laughter in his voice as he talked about my situation. also they're about twice as much as going thru india visa outsourcing, the agency the indian consulate recommends.)

so i finally talked to a very nice representative at india outsourcing, and she walked me through the process. but i really decided my day was ruined when i got to the post office and realized i had lost one of my passport photos that i'd just paid 8 bucks for at walgreens. i looked everywhere (even had 2 of the postal workers helping me go through the locked garbage cans). and after about 20 minutes, i did find it: it had blown off behind the free classified newspaper stand outside the post office. i overnighted the envelelope and received a nice email in response with a web tracking capability.

you can track my visa application at: https://indiavisa.travisaoutsourcing.com/track-passport

if you really are curious, let me know and i will give you my tracking number - right now my status is:

Date/Time
04/02/2008 12:34pm PST India visa application completed online
04/03/2008 3:13pm PST Passport/supporting documents received, payment processed
04/03/2008 3:32pm PST Documents prepared to go to Embassy
04/04/2008 8:50am PST Documents dispatched from Outsourcing Office to Consulate
04/04/2008 9:37am PST Documents received by Consulate

the funny thing is that i usually am a conscientious planner when traveling, so this really threw me.

but the short of it is this: even the nice representative from india outsourcing had to admit, i am not going to india on wednesday. i have been slapped with a week delay (and that aint sitting well with work, since they rescheduled an audit to accommodate my schedule.) i will have to pay a fee too. who knows how much. and india aint gettin any cooler. stay tuned for more fun adventures. this may be more interesting than my actual trip.

another passage to india

so i decided to buy a plane ticket to india. i know this is last minute, but not really. i'd been planning on this and then broke my leg, so then i wasn't planning on it, but then my leg starting feeling better so then i was planning on it again. i will have only a week to get ready. i leave a week from tomorrow. wish me luck and stay tuned for notes on preparations, travel plans, anxieties (or just look at jenni's india blog, i will meet up with her there somewhere, so we'll have some dueling blogs goin on for a bit.)

free publicity

from today's paper

so here is an article from today's seattle pi. its about a website tracking gangs up in the nw. nothing i never knew bout, so i thought it kinda interesting. from my experience, it seems pretty comprehensive (on the asian side that is - i don't know much bout other gangs).

the article

the website

a passage to india

so take a break from all the other blogs you read out there to have a look at jenni's trip to india. she is volunteering in a boy's home, assisting them with learning some film making for the next 5 weeks or so, then she will travel through northern india.

so for the next 2 months, its the best bet in blogging:

jenni's indiaspring blog

sabaidee luang prabang

First Laotian Feature Film in 20 Years Set for Release

The Laotian government has apparently financed a romantic story set in Luang Prabang, a small city (population 22,000) located on the Mekong River in the north central region of the country. The film is entitled Sabaidee Luang Prabang (Good Morning, Luang Prabang) and stars Ananda Everingham "as a Lao-Australian photographer who returns to his father's home country of Laos," according to Wise Kwai's Thai Film Journal. He "gets in touch with his heritage during a trip that takes him the length of the country. Along [the] way, he bonds and falls in love with his female guide, played by Laotian beauty queen Khamlek Pallawong."

Good Morning, Luang Prabang is a Laotian-Thai co-production and is the first feature film from Laos in nearly 20 years. Wise Kwai, a Bangkok-based journalist, says that the so-called "film industry" in Laos has been limited prima! rily to producing made-for-television features and state-controlled propaganda videos since 1988. The media is still under strict control of the government.
Ananda Everingham, 25, previously was featured in the original version of Shutter (the U.S. remake is due out shortly) as well as Pen-Ek Ratanaruang's Ploy. Everingham was "born in Thailand to an Australian photojournalist father and a Laotian mother, a legendary romance that was the subject of an American made-for-TV movie," Love is Forever, starring Michael Landon. The busy young actor reduced his usual fee to appear in the movie. Good Morning, Luang Prabang is set for release on April 10, just in time for the New Year's holiday celebrated in Laos and Thailand.

i broke my foot

actually, i broke my fibula. i wish i could say that i did it while snowboarding, but i don’t know how to snowboard, don’t wanna know how to snowboard, and it’s cold up in the snow. but apparently, the ligament is stronger than the bone, because when i rolled my ankle, the ligament pulled on the bone and the tip of the fibula popped off, or so the doctor tells me. the doctor also told me i couldn’t drive, so i am left to question whether doctors know anything anymore. i didn’t even wanna go to the doctor anyway, but several stern voices and the possibility of a painkiller prescription compelled me to do just that. and sorry about the picture following this post - i know its in bad taste to put a foot picture up on my blog.

so i will back up: i broke my right fibula (the smaller of the two bones in the leg; not the tibia, or the weight bearing bone, but the skinny, stabilizing bone) while attempting to cross the street right outside my office in chinatown. i didn’t get hit by a car, a car wasn’t even about to hit me, and it wasn’t even raining. i just happened to be wearing shoes a little too loose at the time, and when i started jogging across the street, my heel slipped off the sole of the shoe, my ankle rolled, and i parachuted out into broken-fibula oblivion. i am surprised at the amount of pain one little snapping bone can cause: i was forced to sit on the stoop of some sketchy-looking building, while a flush of nausea and dizziness came over me. i noticed an older man looking at me from across the street, and then i closed my eyes to think about the pain. when i looked up again, he was bending over me, peering down into my face.

“are you okay?”
“yeah,” i answered. “i hurt my ankle.”
“yes, i can see. do you need any help?”

i declined his offer for assistance, thanked him, and he went on his way. then, when the pain and dizziness abated, i was hit with a migraine. the doctor also said this is common, but since i don’t really know if he knows what he is talking about, don’t quote me or him on it. but understand that a migraine ain’t your typical headache. some of yall be using the word too casually, but if you ever had a real migraine, you would know that it is a word to be said with reverence and caution, that its mere mention can send those unfortunate victims of its wrath searching for a bed in a dark quiet room with the shades drawn and the dripping water faucet turned tight.

well, i struggled through the next couple of hours, rubbing the side of my migraine at unspecified intervals, and keeping my ankle elevated at the advice of my former supervisor, (i was heading off to meet him for lunch when the incident occurred.) my ankle really did feel like it was a mere sprain. but after an appointment with one of my clients, i retired to my cubicle to finish some case notes, and i left my foot unattended on the floor under my desk. the ankle swelled at this point, and the pain when i walked increased significantly.

driving home was nearly impossible – when i tried to press the brake my ankle wouldn’t let me – i felt like it wasn’t even my foot anymore, and i had to downshift to get the car to slow down. and the accelerator pedal wouldn’t press beyond 50 mph on the freeway, and some big ol’ SUV was riding my tail all the way across the ship canal bridge, forcing me to go faster. (i think this is why the doctor said i can’t drive. however, my compromise solution, that i borrow someone’s automatic and drive with my left foot, seemed reasonable. the doctor got irritated at me at that point: “i cannot give you permission to drive! if you need to slam on the brake, you’re foot is not going to let you - and then you could come back and sue me!”)

then the doctor proceeded to give me a walking boot, a pair of crutches, and a prescription for vicodin. interestingly enough, the nurse that fitted me with the boot went on to contradict everything the doctor had just told me. “you can take ibuprofen! i guess tylenol is the drug of the month around here.” and: “just drive with your left foot! trade cars with somebody who’s gotta automatic, and drive with your left foot – but not while you’re taking the vicodin!”

i’ve been interested in the effects of taking a narcotic for pain. i grew up in the 1980s, “just saying no” like nancy reagan told me to (although nobody really ever offered, so i actually never had anything to say no to,) so narcotics are new to me. well, i took the vicodin the first night (my pain was pretty bad,) and iced my foot like i was told to. however, i fell asleep so quick, i'm not sure if i should call vicodin a painkiller or a sleeping pill.

so i am not driving anywhere, and i am relying on the good will of those around me to ferry me from place to place. i had to bus myself to work on friday, which seemed easy enough: take the 15 to downtown, walk two blocks to 3rd ave, catch the 42 and hop off right at acrs. but going home i waited out in the cold for 45 minutes for the 42 to come, and it never showed. my foot started hurting me pretty bad, so i went and got a #11 at the phnom penh noodle house (the best noodle soup on the menu! if you wanna go try some, come pick me up, and we'll go - but you have to drive.) then i caught the #7 instead at jackson and maynard st. by this time i was kinda desperate with foot pain so i gulped down a vicadin.

i changed to the 15 down by pine street, and unfortunately i had no place to sit - so i stood in the middle of the aisle waiting for somebody to exit the bus. well, this kid sitting down in the seat to the right of me was eating fritos, and he was trying to stuff 3 or 4 in his mouth at the same time. but one of the fritos got a little squirrelly; it missed his mouth, tumbled down his sweatshirt, bounced once on the edge of his seat and landed on my walking boot. he looked down at the frito, and then up at me as i flicked the frito off under the seat.

"sorry," he said.
"it's okay," i answered, kinda laughing.

he looked at my boot once more, and proceeded to stuff the rest of his fritos in his backpack, and then he got up to offer me his seat. i usually would've turned down the offer, but my foot was hurting, and he had already gotten up. so i said thanks, and plopped myself down onto the plastic seat.

i was feeling pretty good at this point; i appreciate opportunities to help out others, and sometimes it's good to let others help me out as well. so as the bus bumbled on towards ballard, i sat there on the seat, thinking about stuff, contemplating humanity and feeling really good. i felt a humming sensation in my arms and legs, and this warmth in my chest. and then i started to wonder, "is this me feeling good about the world and about humankind? ...or is the vicodin finally kicking in?"

if you were hoping for one of these guys, you