The Scruffman Chronicles: The Scruffman in India and Nepal
Apr 18th, 2010, 10:24 PM
#82
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Hey, remember me? I’ve been sort of preoccupied with life, but I need to catch you up on the story, which is of course proceeding even if it’s not appearing here.
<b>Hills and a Hammock in Hampi</b>
The Scruffman arrived in Hampi for what would be a stay of somewhat over two weeks and was immediately enchanted with its beauty: vast emerald green rice paddies spread out for 100km in each direction with scattered coconut trees, surrounded by massive hills of broken red rock. More monkeys as well, but nicer than the naughty Goan monkeys. A green-blue river runs right through the middle of town, dividing it into the temple side, filled with <i>“tons of crazy temples,”</i> and the tourist side.
The Scruffman washed up on the shores of Manju’s Place. Manju, the owner, gave him a room at half-price when he saw that the Scruffman carried a guitar, <i>”which as everyone knows is the international symbol of peace.”</i> The group of fellow travelers staying at Manju's became a tribe by the end of the Scruffman’s stay, a bond official sealed by Band Lassis (“special lassis”) and a midnight scramble up the highest and most treacherous of the hills.
The only way across the river between tourist Hampi and temple Hampi was a boat run by a handful of young locals. These young men pass the time between ferrying boatloads of tourists by playing cricket next to the water. One day the Scruffman was coopted into a cricket game and it took him four hours to get away! He was a varsity pitcher on his high school baseball team, and perhaps the skills were somewhat transferable – plus in general he’s pretty athletic. I wonder if they hung onto him that long because he picked it up pretty quickly?
The Scruffman’s days were full of excitement. Most mornings he woke up at sunrise to climb in the boulders above town. (Mom wonders at this - is this the same guy who was so hard to drag out of bed in the morning his entire life?) Around noon, as the midday heat began to crank up, he hiked back to the guesthouse to spend the afternoons lying in a hammock, playing his guitar, or playing chess with other travelers. I was informed that playing chess has caused him to <i>”look at my whole life differently.”</i> As usual, the Scruffman offered no further elaboration on this last, so I have no idea what the transformative properties of chess might be for him.
One morning he hiked the 1000+ stairs up to the hilltop Monkey Temple. As it was about 20 degrees cooler with a breeze on the hilltop compared to down below, he stayed most of the day, enjoying the simplicity of the temple and the unbelievable views in every direction. A few times he took his guitar and scrambled up to the top of the hills to watch the sunset from the top of the valley, apparently spending the night on the hilltop, as he remarked that it was incredible to wake up to see the sunrise and then climb back down the ridiculous route he had climbed and see what he’d been climbing on.
If only this idyll could last….
<b>Hills and a Hammock in Hampi</b>
The Scruffman arrived in Hampi for what would be a stay of somewhat over two weeks and was immediately enchanted with its beauty: vast emerald green rice paddies spread out for 100km in each direction with scattered coconut trees, surrounded by massive hills of broken red rock. More monkeys as well, but nicer than the naughty Goan monkeys. A green-blue river runs right through the middle of town, dividing it into the temple side, filled with <i>“tons of crazy temples,”</i> and the tourist side.
The Scruffman washed up on the shores of Manju’s Place. Manju, the owner, gave him a room at half-price when he saw that the Scruffman carried a guitar, <i>”which as everyone knows is the international symbol of peace.”</i> The group of fellow travelers staying at Manju's became a tribe by the end of the Scruffman’s stay, a bond official sealed by Band Lassis (“special lassis”) and a midnight scramble up the highest and most treacherous of the hills.
The only way across the river between tourist Hampi and temple Hampi was a boat run by a handful of young locals. These young men pass the time between ferrying boatloads of tourists by playing cricket next to the water. One day the Scruffman was coopted into a cricket game and it took him four hours to get away! He was a varsity pitcher on his high school baseball team, and perhaps the skills were somewhat transferable – plus in general he’s pretty athletic. I wonder if they hung onto him that long because he picked it up pretty quickly?
The Scruffman’s days were full of excitement. Most mornings he woke up at sunrise to climb in the boulders above town. (Mom wonders at this - is this the same guy who was so hard to drag out of bed in the morning his entire life?) Around noon, as the midday heat began to crank up, he hiked back to the guesthouse to spend the afternoons lying in a hammock, playing his guitar, or playing chess with other travelers. I was informed that playing chess has caused him to <i>”look at my whole life differently.”</i> As usual, the Scruffman offered no further elaboration on this last, so I have no idea what the transformative properties of chess might be for him.
One morning he hiked the 1000+ stairs up to the hilltop Monkey Temple. As it was about 20 degrees cooler with a breeze on the hilltop compared to down below, he stayed most of the day, enjoying the simplicity of the temple and the unbelievable views in every direction. A few times he took his guitar and scrambled up to the top of the hills to watch the sunset from the top of the valley, apparently spending the night on the hilltop, as he remarked that it was incredible to wake up to see the sunrise and then climb back down the ridiculous route he had climbed and see what he’d been climbing on.
If only this idyll could last….
Apr 18th, 2010, 11:51 PM
#84
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<b>Captain Catastrophe Strikes</b>
An e-mail arrived one morning bright and early. Bad luck! The Scruffman is now down to zero ATM cards.
As you will recall, one card was lost while he was beached in Goa. This time, the zipper on his guitar case broke and by the time he noticed the zipper, the ATM card was gone. As he says, the good news never ends – and he’s the one who signed off as Captain Catastrophe.
So first, since he needed to be able to check out of the Hampi guesthouse eventually, I had to wire money, which I had never done before. I got that done without too much difficulty. However, then the real challenge began: how to get him ATM cards for two different accounts and get them to him in India.
Thus began a series of arguments with Schwab, with whom the Scruffman has one account, and Wells Fargo, with whom he has another. My possession of a notarized full power of attorney from him notwithstanding, this turned out not to be easy. Three different people at Schwab insisted that I could neither cancel his old card nor arrange a new one for him, that he would have to do it himself. The fourth time I called, however, I got someone who quickly arranged for a card to be expedited to me without no further ado. Wells Fargo was easier – I am a co-signer on the account, so it was no problem getting them to talk to me, but they wouldn’t replace his card unless he called them himself. I know from experience that that was <i>never</i> going to happen. So I had them send me a new card for myself, which I could then give him. The ATM machine isn't going to care whose name is on the card!
Fortunately for Greg, I know just one person in the entire eastern hemisphere, and she happens to live in Delhi. I’ve known Madhulika for six or seven years through a different website where we both post travel writing. She is now a newly published author. I e-mailed her, and she agreed that I could ship the cards to her and she would pass them to Greg when he got to Delhi. So once I had assembled all the cards, I shipped them off FedEx to Madhulika.
It was one of those moments when it was convenient that I’m out of work, since I had a day or two to spend arranging all of this!
Greg did offer that, <i>”except for the inconveniences caused by my stupidity I'm in high spirits and have been learning a lot recently.”</i> Hmmm. I wondering what he’s learning a lot about?
An e-mail arrived one morning bright and early. Bad luck! The Scruffman is now down to zero ATM cards.
As you will recall, one card was lost while he was beached in Goa. This time, the zipper on his guitar case broke and by the time he noticed the zipper, the ATM card was gone. As he says, the good news never ends – and he’s the one who signed off as Captain Catastrophe.
So first, since he needed to be able to check out of the Hampi guesthouse eventually, I had to wire money, which I had never done before. I got that done without too much difficulty. However, then the real challenge began: how to get him ATM cards for two different accounts and get them to him in India.
Thus began a series of arguments with Schwab, with whom the Scruffman has one account, and Wells Fargo, with whom he has another. My possession of a notarized full power of attorney from him notwithstanding, this turned out not to be easy. Three different people at Schwab insisted that I could neither cancel his old card nor arrange a new one for him, that he would have to do it himself. The fourth time I called, however, I got someone who quickly arranged for a card to be expedited to me without no further ado. Wells Fargo was easier – I am a co-signer on the account, so it was no problem getting them to talk to me, but they wouldn’t replace his card unless he called them himself. I know from experience that that was <i>never</i> going to happen. So I had them send me a new card for myself, which I could then give him. The ATM machine isn't going to care whose name is on the card!
Fortunately for Greg, I know just one person in the entire eastern hemisphere, and she happens to live in Delhi. I’ve known Madhulika for six or seven years through a different website where we both post travel writing. She is now a newly published author. I e-mailed her, and she agreed that I could ship the cards to her and she would pass them to Greg when he got to Delhi. So once I had assembled all the cards, I shipped them off FedEx to Madhulika.
It was one of those moments when it was convenient that I’m out of work, since I had a day or two to spend arranging all of this!
Greg did offer that, <i>”except for the inconveniences caused by my stupidity I'm in high spirits and have been learning a lot recently.”</i> Hmmm. I wondering what he’s learning a lot about?
Apr 19th, 2010, 12:54 AM
#85
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arts: that is BHANG lassi.
www.indobase.com/recipes/details/bhang-lassi.php
One look at the ingredients will show you what he's learning about. lol. No wonder Hampi was so enthralling...
Ahh, Sweet Bird of Youth. Well, I can't point the finger of scorn at that - but, if I might gently say, soon it might be time to teach him about <i>'consequences'</i>.
www.indobase.com/recipes/details/bhang-lassi.php
One look at the ingredients will show you what he's learning about. lol. No wonder Hampi was so enthralling...
Ahh, Sweet Bird of Youth. Well, I can't point the finger of scorn at that - but, if I might gently say, soon it might be time to teach him about <i>'consequences'</i>.
Apr 19th, 2010, 05:27 AM
#87
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dogster, well, that does explain something. (Bong lassi! That I might have figured out!) However, he's been a consumer of the herb in one form or another for some time. Actually, without the cannabis it actually sounds pretty yummy. I guess it's not much different from making herbal brownies, and there's a whole story about that in the Scruffman's past. Where we live, it's easy to get a medical marijuana prescription, and having a small amount for personal use just gets you a ticket (if anyone even bothers with that). In such a climate, a stunning number of people of all ages are users.
Apr 19th, 2010, 06:52 AM
#89
arts - hope you are doing at least OK. Glad to hear about Hampi - I'm hoping to make it there later this year, although without a guitar and probably drinking plain ordinary lassis.... Hadn't heard about the emerald green rice paddies before, I thought it was kind of barren.
Apr 19th, 2010, 07:23 AM
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<b>Derring-Do and Death in Darkest Delhi</b>
The Scruffman boarded a train to Delhi that was to take 36 hours. Due to delays, it turned out to be 45 hours. He remarked that he was the only westerner on the train and described it as an adventure without bothering to detail what sort of an adventure it was. Argh! Delhi had not originally been on his itinerary, but of course he had to get his ATM cards or the rest of his trip was going to be really, really complicated.
Anyway, he was able to connect with Madhulika, and <i>”it was all very 007,”</i> a brief rendezvous in the center of Delhi and the exchange of an envelope. He offered to buy her a chai, but she had somewhere else to be, so the meeting was very short – but oh so essential and appreciated!
The Scruffman’s entire summation on Delhi: <i>”Delhi is probably one of the worst places on Earth. HOT, dusty, stinky, crammed full of people and cars and smog and bad vibrations. It was such a horrible place I almost enjoyed it just for the novelty of being in Hell.</i>
After a <i>very</i> short stay, the Scruffman decided to go to Rishikesh. He had initially intended to go to Varanasi, but due to the imminent festival of Kumbh Mela, all forms of transportation to Varanasi were booked. His plan was to stay a few days in Rishikesh and then head to Varanasi once Kumbh Mela was over.
So he boarded the deadly bus to Rishikesh. Literally. The cabin lights were dimmed and obscured by swirls of dust. The Scruffman’s eyes had closed and he’d almost achieved the miracle of sleep on an Indian bus when HONK, SCREEECH, THUD! The bus skidded to a stop and the driver started yelling. All the passengers looked around sleepily. Ten minutes later they were ushered off the bus to see a man being wrapped in a body bag and put in an ambulance. After about two hours of waiting in the middle of the street, a replacement bus pulled up and took them the rest of the way.
The Scruffman boarded a train to Delhi that was to take 36 hours. Due to delays, it turned out to be 45 hours. He remarked that he was the only westerner on the train and described it as an adventure without bothering to detail what sort of an adventure it was. Argh! Delhi had not originally been on his itinerary, but of course he had to get his ATM cards or the rest of his trip was going to be really, really complicated.
Anyway, he was able to connect with Madhulika, and <i>”it was all very 007,”</i> a brief rendezvous in the center of Delhi and the exchange of an envelope. He offered to buy her a chai, but she had somewhere else to be, so the meeting was very short – but oh so essential and appreciated!
The Scruffman’s entire summation on Delhi: <i>”Delhi is probably one of the worst places on Earth. HOT, dusty, stinky, crammed full of people and cars and smog and bad vibrations. It was such a horrible place I almost enjoyed it just for the novelty of being in Hell.</i>
After a <i>very</i> short stay, the Scruffman decided to go to Rishikesh. He had initially intended to go to Varanasi, but due to the imminent festival of Kumbh Mela, all forms of transportation to Varanasi were booked. His plan was to stay a few days in Rishikesh and then head to Varanasi once Kumbh Mela was over.
So he boarded the deadly bus to Rishikesh. Literally. The cabin lights were dimmed and obscured by swirls of dust. The Scruffman’s eyes had closed and he’d almost achieved the miracle of sleep on an Indian bus when HONK, SCREEECH, THUD! The bus skidded to a stop and the driver started yelling. All the passengers looked around sleepily. Ten minutes later they were ushered off the bus to see a man being wrapped in a body bag and put in an ambulance. After about two hours of waiting in the middle of the street, a replacement bus pulled up and took them the rest of the way.
Apr 19th, 2010, 10:18 AM
#94
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You must blame the long delay on me. The Scruffman has done an admirable job of keeping me informed. I have just been out of sorts with the job hunt and was not feeling cheerful enough to take it up. At this point I think I am becoming rather inured to the condition, at least enough to fill in his fans. I have two more installments almost ready and thank you all for your patience and your continued interest.
Apr 19th, 2010, 12:39 PM
#96
Okay, I bummed around the world when I was 17, 21 and 25, so I do know about traveling on a shoestring. I'm in my 50's now so maybe I'm getting cranky, BUT:
This kid has left behind is passport, lost a guitar, lost ATM cards (twice), lost the key to his moped. He bonds with a group of travelers based on their drinking Bhang Lassis (marijuana smoothies), goes climbing treacherous hills in the dark, and has put his mother, his friends, and his mother's friends to all sorts of trouble to bail him out of his carelessness.
Am I the only one who thinks this kid is really not mature enough to be traveling alone? After the second ATM card disappeared, I would have told my kids, "you figure it out."
This kid has left behind is passport, lost a guitar, lost ATM cards (twice), lost the key to his moped. He bonds with a group of travelers based on their drinking Bhang Lassis (marijuana smoothies), goes climbing treacherous hills in the dark, and has put his mother, his friends, and his mother's friends to all sorts of trouble to bail him out of his carelessness.
Am I the only one who thinks this kid is really not mature enough to be traveling alone? After the second ATM card disappeared, I would have told my kids, "you figure it out."
Apr 19th, 2010, 01:16 PM
#97
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1. He didn't lose the moped key. That was his companion.
2. It's not a maturity or carelessness problem. It's an ADD problem.
3. He has never fallen off or out of anything in his entire life. Always at the top of the jungle gym when he was 2 years old, the top of the tree when he was 10. I don't worry about him climbing.
4. Mom, Mom's friends, and Scruffman's friends don't mind helping out.
The pot use I'm not happy about, but it's practically de rigueur where we live and will be on the ballot for legalization this fall. As far as drugs go, it's not keeping me up at night.
Lcuy, I understand and appreciate your concern. But really, he'll be OK. He's made it this long - 7 months and counting. If it had been me, I wouldn't have lost a thing, but I would never have made it half so far nor had half so many interesting experiences.
2. It's not a maturity or carelessness problem. It's an ADD problem.
3. He has never fallen off or out of anything in his entire life. Always at the top of the jungle gym when he was 2 years old, the top of the tree when he was 10. I don't worry about him climbing.
4. Mom, Mom's friends, and Scruffman's friends don't mind helping out.
The pot use I'm not happy about, but it's practically de rigueur where we live and will be on the ballot for legalization this fall. As far as drugs go, it's not keeping me up at night.
Lcuy, I understand and appreciate your concern. But really, he'll be OK. He's made it this long - 7 months and counting. If it had been me, I wouldn't have lost a thing, but I would never have made it half so far nor had half so many interesting experiences.
Apr 19th, 2010, 06:07 PM
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Thanks for the update. I, too, was trying to be patient and not request updates. So thanks for saving me! I have to say I am learning a lot about India and its cities/towns. I hope your job hunting is productive.
