The odometer hit 2,000 km on my first day with the Boondogglers. They had seen the beautiful beaches of Kerala and Goa already on their trip. I would start by seeing what I like to call a "goat gathering". It happens from time to time in rural India: a bunch of guys meet up in the middle of a highway somewhere (how they arrange it, I'm not sure -- text messages? homing pigeons?) and scope each other's goats. It's like in midwestern Americana, where young men used to pull their Mustangs up to the parking lot of a burger joint, rev their engines, give hi-fives, peek under the hood of each car, and tinker. Only with goats. What's the equivalent of "tinkering" with a goat? Apprising it's leg muscles like a thoroughbred, to see how high it can goat-hop? Tickling it's goat-beard? Who knows?
Soon after the Goat Gathering, I realized that India plays host to ALL SORTS of mid-highway livestock hobnobbing! Here's a Water Buffalo Wing-Ding!
An oxen jamboree!
Rhesus Monkey MerryMaking!
Benji joins the fun!
And here are a few more images of Andhra Pradesh, the state of which Hyderabad is the capital, and driving through which we only spent about a day and a half. It was a bit of a drab state, visually, but there were some beautiful well-kempt roads through a national forest, and miles and miles of that great Indian crop, rice paddy:
Sally was going 63 kmph (her max speed, at which she shudders and yelps like cold, hungry puppy dog) on those roads, but that didn't keep us from seeing countless examples of what I like the call the "What the f*#%????" face, shown to us in all its varieties and nuances everywhere we went, all over India.
What the F*#% are these white guys doing in a rickshaw in my village, which takes pride mainly in the one day a year when old Ramesh lets us all into his house, the only one with electricity, to watch a VCD of the 1984 Z-Cinema adaptation of the Ramayana????!!?
What the F*#% is the deal with that rickshaw???!!?? The 12 of us are riding OUR rickshaw to the home of Sree Amartya Chitrapatya, the renowned accountant of Deogar, for a good day's work stuffing envelopes in return for a thali of dal-fry at lunch and 12 rupees each! What the F*#% are these jerks doing with their rimmed-out rickshaw and opulent luggage and leg space???!!??
Are you getting a load of this guy? He's like 6 feet tall, and has hair like a girl, and he doesn't even speak Hindi! Where the F*#% does he think he is???!?!?
Group photo, somewhere in Andhra Pradesh:
More is on the way. In the meantime, I don't know how many of you are aware that James Brown, the Godfather of Soul, died on Christmas morning a few weeks ago, but I didn't get a chance to properly blog-mourn. So, for all of you who feel the pain of his passing as I do, Get on the Good Foot and watch this amazing video. See if afterwards you don't feel like going down to the crib to let it all hang out, where funky people know what it's all about.
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