I know what you're saying: melodramatic Justin, hahaha. Well, if you can think of some other physiological organ that: "Huh, this is kinda like a little meaty cauliflower." would apply to then I'm all ears.
If I'm right that would mean it was a lamb's brain. And in the realm of brain eating, never thought I'd said that, I guess I'm okay with that. It's not like this guy was going to cure world hunger or anything. Cured the hunger of about four of us, hehe, if you know what I mean. Besides all the spice that goes with this stuff it's not like I can taste anything anyway.
Vegetable Brains
Delicious Animal Brain
wouldn't have been the whole thing, just the salty cerebellum.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Cops and Robbers
I guess I'm going to have to write a couple of these a day to catch up.
The family I live with, the Faszers, are...competitive. Not in a terrible, take your ball and go home way. More, "if you're going to do something, do it right" kind of way. The five kids (Joel, Sam, Sunita, Nathaniel or Tye, and Friddle, I think his name is actually Friedrich) like to play a variation of tag that they call something I forgot, and I call cops and robbers. A couple people are the cops and they try to tag robbers and take them to a predetermined jail area. If a free robber tags them while in jail they are freed. So it goes on until all the robbers are caught or until someone cries, loudly.
Bear in mind I'm playing a game that necessitates an intimate understanding of the surrounding area with people who've lived there a decade or more. All of which means I've got to hide with slow people and use them as my means of escape (worked beautifully).
The area in total is several (6, maybe 7) acres. Below the house: tennis and volleyball courts, sparsely populated woods, curving road, stone path and more woods. Then the main house, connected to a smaller house with a cottage behind it, and another cluster of living area just a bit to the side. You can get on the roof of several of these, that's not illegal. Behind the houses, densely populated wood area, thorny bushes, chicken coup and other unpleasantness. The bottom, middle, and upper sections are all connected in various place and there are several open areas.
I'm not as fast as I used to be and the altitude is no help but I've done respectable work in this field. My greatest failure though was as a cop trying to catch David, the dad and robber. He'd made an attempt at the jail (near the main house) with me running flat out at him. He cut to the side of the (what's the name of that "sport" with a birdie that goes really slow and looks boring) net, so I dove under and continued after him. Plopping down on his butt he slid down the hill to get to the road and the bottom area. Now (keep in mind I'm still learning the layout) I slid after him, but unfortunately several feet to the side. The hill gets cut away to make for the road that slopes down. Ergo, he shoots out at about a three foot drop... I do not. I've got some nice souvenir scars across my palms. Seriously fun time though.
Will have to write about the other times later.
The family I live with, the Faszers, are...competitive. Not in a terrible, take your ball and go home way. More, "if you're going to do something, do it right" kind of way. The five kids (Joel, Sam, Sunita, Nathaniel or Tye, and Friddle, I think his name is actually Friedrich) like to play a variation of tag that they call something I forgot, and I call cops and robbers. A couple people are the cops and they try to tag robbers and take them to a predetermined jail area. If a free robber tags them while in jail they are freed. So it goes on until all the robbers are caught or until someone cries, loudly.
Bear in mind I'm playing a game that necessitates an intimate understanding of the surrounding area with people who've lived there a decade or more. All of which means I've got to hide with slow people and use them as my means of escape (worked beautifully).
The area in total is several (6, maybe 7) acres. Below the house: tennis and volleyball courts, sparsely populated woods, curving road, stone path and more woods. Then the main house, connected to a smaller house with a cottage behind it, and another cluster of living area just a bit to the side. You can get on the roof of several of these, that's not illegal. Behind the houses, densely populated wood area, thorny bushes, chicken coup and other unpleasantness. The bottom, middle, and upper sections are all connected in various place and there are several open areas.
I'm not as fast as I used to be and the altitude is no help but I've done respectable work in this field. My greatest failure though was as a cop trying to catch David, the dad and robber. He'd made an attempt at the jail (near the main house) with me running flat out at him. He cut to the side of the (what's the name of that "sport" with a birdie that goes really slow and looks boring) net, so I dove under and continued after him. Plopping down on his butt he slid down the hill to get to the road and the bottom area. Now (keep in mind I'm still learning the layout) I slid after him, but unfortunately several feet to the side. The hill gets cut away to make for the road that slopes down. Ergo, he shoots out at about a three foot drop... I do not. I've got some nice souvenir scars across my palms. Seriously fun time though.
Will have to write about the other times later.
A Mother Hen and Wholly update
When I first got to Farley, about five months ago, there where two rosters and two hens. And that seemed like a reasonable ratio. Anyway, I also lived outside and on the ground level, where chickens can crap in front of your door and wake you up at 5:30 (right before the air-raid siren that goes off at 6 EVERY morning). Outside and just a little ways down from my room was a nice, large stack of wood. That they dodged does not mean I wasn't aiming to kill.
A little before the time the rosters donned the conception of polygamy (and the loser became dinner), both hens had chicks. I've never been around farmy animals and didn't really feel like I was losing out on much. Apparently, so I've been told, the mother hen is one of the fiercest mothers in nature. She will take on a panther if need be. It has been interesting to learn some of the mannerisms, the different calls and how to elicit them by throwing rocks. My current project has involved finding the cat and throwing it at one of the hens. Wouldn't you know it, as soon as that cat lands she is gone. Terrified. I don't like cats and was kind of hoping for a "two birds with one cat" scenario.
Some guys came and carried Wholly (Wool-e) off to a dog shelter of some kind. Supposedly the panther missed the neck area and bit into her chest. It's hard to believe "the panther missed your jugular and only pierced your lungs," would be good news, but apparently so. I'd feel better if she had eaten first though. But her vitality was a lot better today.
A little before the time the rosters donned the conception of polygamy (and the loser became dinner), both hens had chicks. I've never been around farmy animals and didn't really feel like I was losing out on much. Apparently, so I've been told, the mother hen is one of the fiercest mothers in nature. She will take on a panther if need be. It has been interesting to learn some of the mannerisms, the different calls and how to elicit them by throwing rocks. My current project has involved finding the cat and throwing it at one of the hens. Wouldn't you know it, as soon as that cat lands she is gone. Terrified. I don't like cats and was kind of hoping for a "two birds with one cat" scenario.
Some guys came and carried Wholly (Wool-e) off to a dog shelter of some kind. Supposedly the panther missed the neck area and bit into her chest. It's hard to believe "the panther missed your jugular and only pierced your lungs," would be good news, but apparently so. I'd feel better if she had eaten first though. But her vitality was a lot better today.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Wholly v. Panther
As you can see from my previous post my belly is fat with a chicken burger, I'm fine. But this is about Wholly.
There are a lot of animals at Farley. Too many. At one point: four dogs, one cat, two sheep, many, many chickens and five kids. Apparently two rosters is one too many so when Sam, the kid in charge of fowls, held a rooster head up to me and made a rooster noise I knew I could scratch one off the list.
Unfortunately that list kept contracting. One of the dogs was old and the merciful thing was done. That left Wholly with her two puppies. I don't think I've ever gotten to play with puppies before. It was just one of those things I new I'd like. Fleas and all. But the puppies found a new home and that was for the best. Wholly stayed.
I've bought about four boxes of milk bones, not just to see the look on the cashiers face: "Why would a tourist be buying dog biscuits?" but to give to the dogs. They didn't have the flavor I like.
This morning poor Wholly was lying in front of the back, upstairs door. She was alert, but not moving. Blood caked into her fur, and fresh blood at the tips of the hair. She won't eat and only stood for a short while. Panthers and leopards do roam this area and it's not an unjustifiable guess by Martin, though I hope he was wrong. There was no trail of blood, so I'm hopeful that the wound is superficial and she's still in shock. She's at my back door now, see what I can do.
There are a lot of animals at Farley. Too many. At one point: four dogs, one cat, two sheep, many, many chickens and five kids. Apparently two rosters is one too many so when Sam, the kid in charge of fowls, held a rooster head up to me and made a rooster noise I knew I could scratch one off the list.
Unfortunately that list kept contracting. One of the dogs was old and the merciful thing was done. That left Wholly with her two puppies. I don't think I've ever gotten to play with puppies before. It was just one of those things I new I'd like. Fleas and all. But the puppies found a new home and that was for the best. Wholly stayed.
I've bought about four boxes of milk bones, not just to see the look on the cashiers face: "Why would a tourist be buying dog biscuits?" but to give to the dogs. They didn't have the flavor I like.
This morning poor Wholly was lying in front of the back, upstairs door. She was alert, but not moving. Blood caked into her fur, and fresh blood at the tips of the hair. She won't eat and only stood for a short while. Panthers and leopards do roam this area and it's not an unjustifiable guess by Martin, though I hope he was wrong. There was no trail of blood, so I'm hopeful that the wound is superficial and she's still in shock. She's at my back door now, see what I can do.
Vivian P. James
To be honest I forgot about this blog, right around the time my laptop stopped working.
I've been trying to walk less. My heels are cracked and cut, toes likewise. Every morning my feet ache. But I felt like a chicken burger.
Walking down to Willys, I passed by some mustached teenage boys in suits and ties. They're playing soccer in a dirt field. Some older, surprisingly not mustached, men were playing cricket in front of a linen shop. Underneath a walkway that leads into a hotel and the second floor of shops, I think to myself it's good that none of them have any talent, or there'd be no windows.
So finally got to Willys and greeted by the rare acquaintance of Vivian P. James. He's told me many times, I think the P. is Pashak (that sounds Russian though...I was just reading some Solzhenitsyn). Anyway, Vivian, an early thirties, tall (for an Indian) man, would not stand out much, besides the height, except for his profound affliction with what I'll call Parkinsons. He claims it's not, but doesn't know what it is.
Our first encounter wound up with us playing Jenga. Willy's is a smallish restaurant, library, bookstore, and coffee place. They have several board games, puzzles and magazines. Vivian and I were sitting, talking. A couple guys at the table next to ours were playing Jenga. Jenga is a game with little wooden rectangular blocks all the same size. You arrange them into a tower of blocks and then take turns pulling them out. Whoevers turn it is when the tower falls, loses. He interpreted my looking at them as a desire to play and suggested it. This poor man could not take a sip from his glass without spilling more than what got into his mouth. He won.
Tonight will probably be our last encounter. Vivian will be another story. I shared a little of my garlic toast and more talk. Not one to shy away from personal details, there's plenty for me to pray for.
On my way back to Farley I took an auto, spare myself ~2 mile hike. The desire to personalize ones possessions here is ubiquitous. Generally stickers and generally religious, this particle auto driver had a comedically anachronistic sticker of a Franciscan monk holding baby Jesus next to a gray man sitting in a lotus position in front of a temple with goats, next to some woman, etc.
I've been trying to walk less. My heels are cracked and cut, toes likewise. Every morning my feet ache. But I felt like a chicken burger.
Walking down to Willys, I passed by some mustached teenage boys in suits and ties. They're playing soccer in a dirt field. Some older, surprisingly not mustached, men were playing cricket in front of a linen shop. Underneath a walkway that leads into a hotel and the second floor of shops, I think to myself it's good that none of them have any talent, or there'd be no windows.
So finally got to Willys and greeted by the rare acquaintance of Vivian P. James. He's told me many times, I think the P. is Pashak (that sounds Russian though...I was just reading some Solzhenitsyn). Anyway, Vivian, an early thirties, tall (for an Indian) man, would not stand out much, besides the height, except for his profound affliction with what I'll call Parkinsons. He claims it's not, but doesn't know what it is.
Our first encounter wound up with us playing Jenga. Willy's is a smallish restaurant, library, bookstore, and coffee place. They have several board games, puzzles and magazines. Vivian and I were sitting, talking. A couple guys at the table next to ours were playing Jenga. Jenga is a game with little wooden rectangular blocks all the same size. You arrange them into a tower of blocks and then take turns pulling them out. Whoevers turn it is when the tower falls, loses. He interpreted my looking at them as a desire to play and suggested it. This poor man could not take a sip from his glass without spilling more than what got into his mouth. He won.
Tonight will probably be our last encounter. Vivian will be another story. I shared a little of my garlic toast and more talk. Not one to shy away from personal details, there's plenty for me to pray for.
On my way back to Farley I took an auto, spare myself ~2 mile hike. The desire to personalize ones possessions here is ubiquitous. Generally stickers and generally religious, this particle auto driver had a comedically anachronistic sticker of a Franciscan monk holding baby Jesus next to a gray man sitting in a lotus position in front of a temple with goats, next to some woman, etc.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Trip to Pune: part 2
I didn't take me too long to get a feel for the area. There were very obvious landmarks and such, only that the city seems to continue on and on.
A couple days in I felt up to walking through the red-light district. Mid-day, I told the auto driver the location, memorized the direction, and upon arriving was greeted by basically what I'd just left. There are sections to the city and such, each I'm sure with it's unique qualities, only it wasn't what I'd expected. I'm not really sure what I'd expected from a red-light district, more open I guess.
So I wandered around for some time until seeing a cluster of young women obviously waiting for something. It was probably about 3oclock by now and, as I understand the routine, they'd probably not been awake for more than a couple hours or so. My naivete was helpful in that I could plunge into the place but it wasn't long until I was being semi-swarmed by prostitutes grabbing and touching my arms and propositions. The alley wasn't too long, a couple hundred yards, and luckily fairly wide. And being early in the day the experience was not as discomforting as it could have been. One of the girls, older, probably mid 20s, was obviously strung out. The experience was obviously sad and terribly eye-opening.
I tried to find that alley again the next day but could not.
A couple days in Christina and I were encouraged to make a day trip to Mumbai whereupon we would meet up with one of the lawyers for Freedom Firm and his wife.
Link to pictures: Pune pictures
A couple days in I felt up to walking through the red-light district. Mid-day, I told the auto driver the location, memorized the direction, and upon arriving was greeted by basically what I'd just left. There are sections to the city and such, each I'm sure with it's unique qualities, only it wasn't what I'd expected. I'm not really sure what I'd expected from a red-light district, more open I guess.
So I wandered around for some time until seeing a cluster of young women obviously waiting for something. It was probably about 3oclock by now and, as I understand the routine, they'd probably not been awake for more than a couple hours or so. My naivete was helpful in that I could plunge into the place but it wasn't long until I was being semi-swarmed by prostitutes grabbing and touching my arms and propositions. The alley wasn't too long, a couple hundred yards, and luckily fairly wide. And being early in the day the experience was not as discomforting as it could have been. One of the girls, older, probably mid 20s, was obviously strung out. The experience was obviously sad and terribly eye-opening.
I tried to find that alley again the next day but could not.
A couple days in Christina and I were encouraged to make a day trip to Mumbai whereupon we would meet up with one of the lawyers for Freedom Firm and his wife.
Link to pictures: Pune pictures
Trip to Pune: part 1
A fellow volunteer, Christina Cameron, and I left Ooty for Pune on October 1. It was my first substantive trip in India and I soon discovered that there are some really beautiful spots near Ooty that hopefully I will be able to visit someday. The first part was by auto and was four hours to Mysore.
Late Thursday night, 10ish, we bored a train from Mysore to...I don't remember, basically north. Pune is a couple hours east of Mumbai and all that is west-central India. So after spending a restless night, though it's hard to complain given that we did have A/C and a bunk, we arrived at ?. From ? we took a bus to Kohlapur and from there a bus to another ?. And finally a nice bus from ? to Pune. It sounds not so great but it really wasn't so bad. It was nice to see the countryside. Unfortunately I'm not a very intelligent packer and having to bring my computer in addition to cameras was a bit nerve wracking and tiring.
In Pune, Poo-nah, the weather is hotter though it was fall and really quite nice. Warm with a slightly cool breeze. The city is far larger than Ooty at around 3 million people. The Christian presence is not what it is in Ooty though I never felt uncomfortable more just that I stood out, which is obvious.
We were booked rooms at a YMCA. Expensive and insect ridden, the rooms weren't terrible only the best of available options. Pune in many ways was the India I thought I'd be going to. I took the days to walk through the streets, and my lunches at McDonalds. Being so much larger Pune did have some of the Western conveniences I have missed. No beef, but still, pepperoni pizza from a Pizza Hut, chicken from a KFC and nuggets from McDonalds. If people had constantly been staring at me I could have believed I was home, almost.
Link to pictures: Pune pictures
Late Thursday night, 10ish, we bored a train from Mysore to...I don't remember, basically north. Pune is a couple hours east of Mumbai and all that is west-central India. So after spending a restless night, though it's hard to complain given that we did have A/C and a bunk, we arrived at ?. From ? we took a bus to Kohlapur and from there a bus to another ?. And finally a nice bus from ? to Pune. It sounds not so great but it really wasn't so bad. It was nice to see the countryside. Unfortunately I'm not a very intelligent packer and having to bring my computer in addition to cameras was a bit nerve wracking and tiring.
In Pune, Poo-nah, the weather is hotter though it was fall and really quite nice. Warm with a slightly cool breeze. The city is far larger than Ooty at around 3 million people. The Christian presence is not what it is in Ooty though I never felt uncomfortable more just that I stood out, which is obvious.
We were booked rooms at a YMCA. Expensive and insect ridden, the rooms weren't terrible only the best of available options. Pune in many ways was the India I thought I'd be going to. I took the days to walk through the streets, and my lunches at McDonalds. Being so much larger Pune did have some of the Western conveniences I have missed. No beef, but still, pepperoni pizza from a Pizza Hut, chicken from a KFC and nuggets from McDonalds. If people had constantly been staring at me I could have believed I was home, almost.
Link to pictures: Pune pictures
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