Two minutes for a SIM card

Well, is this really post-worthy? You tell me. Even if the story is irrelevant, I need some excuse to post my pictures.

I am reluctant to get an Indian SIM card for my cel phone. I'm not hesitating because I think I'll get ripped off, because I know I will. That's cool; I do yoga and I'm super mellow about all that. I occasionally feel like I am a fountain of rupees to which the children with their leashed monkeys and baskets of flowers flock for refreshment. I haven't procured the SIM card because it's just a pain in the ass. I have to get a passport photo and provide a copy of my passport and then I have to wait.

I found a stand closeby where I can obtain the card without meeting the prerequisites at least. So I went there today. The stand owner's brother was happy to see me. He provided a plastic chair where I could sit as he called his SIM card friend who promised to arrive in 10 minutes. I didn't want to sit. So I stood. And paced. And squinted into the sun as it climbed higher over my head. Then I started to drip, not rupees now, but sweat. About 30 minutes later, I was almost thoroughly wet in the sun and becoming anxious. Two minutes, he said. I said I would time him. He laughed and moved the plastic chair closer to me. I still stood. 15 minutes later, he made some pleasant conversation. He told me I was funny. I asked him about the elephants who are rehearsing for the festivities this week. He said the Jumbos will dance and walk and get dressed up. Jumbos! I asked where the Jumbos live and he just nodded his head. Yes. I asked who takes care of the Jumbos. He said "everyone." And then he nodded his head. Yes. I nodded back. He bobbled his head from side to side. I said, "ha ha."

We miscommunicated for another 10 minutes until a friend rolled up on her super swank motorbike. She was like a prince on a steed. I hopped on the back and the stand owner's brother said, "No, no, 2 more minutes. He is just here." Yeah, sure. I said, "let's go!" and off we went, down the bumpy road. I enjoyed the wind on my face.

I will remain out of touch for three more weeks. I don't think it will be too much trouble to actually use landlines. Sweet goodness Jumbo, a landline. Who would believe it!? But it's efficient and clear and cheap. The phone booth I frequent is very comfortable. For about 5 rupees a minute, I can call home sitting on a luxuriously bouyant red velour stool. The landline booths are called "STDs." Needless to say, I don't put my mouth too close to the handset.

Today, I ride in style with Miss Karen in her personal rickshaw to Lakshmipuram to meet one Dr. Kumar for a class on Ayurvedic medicine. He is not to be confused with my Ayurvedic Massage teacher, Kumar. Or Kumar the Quack, as he calls himself. Miss Karen has a driver named Raj. The rickshaw has a large, green clown horn and sweet tuck and pin upholstery. Plus, Raj would never abandon Miss Karen. She looks very nice with the spots from Chammundi temple on her head, as you can see.


Remember the trip to Chammundi Temple, or at least the place that may or may not have been the Chammundi Temple? Here are some lovely pictures for your consideration. In retrospect, it was very interesting. If I had been able to pay attention to the temple and the myriad symbols and practices of the visitors, rather than wasting most of my energy shooing away hawkers trying to get another 100 rupees from me a marigold, I would be able to tell you what these pictures might represent. Instead, I enjoy, with you, a rather peaceful manner of viewing Chammundi-- from the safe, hygenic and peaceful seat in front of the computer screen.



This is not the swami that we didn't find at the temple:



They are restoring the Shiva temple. It is over 2000 years old. At least that's what my 15 year old geography wiz told me. Should we believe him?


Here's the kid. I mean, our friendly guide. Seeing him here, I don't think he really was enjoying himself. Maybe about as much as we were?


And of course, as one does, you have to keep the statues and other random little bits and pieces somewhere. So why not out in the dust, next to the workers chipping rocks and painting walls?