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I know it’s been a few days since I’ve posted. I apologize. Work has gotten the better of me. Backwards processes with the never-ending series of soul-crushing news has ground me down to a fine powder.

I will admit that I’ve done something I thought I’d never do: I’ve become something of a vegetarian. I’m serious, for the past 3 days I’ve eaten nothing but vegetarian meals. I never thought I could do such a thing, but it’s very easy here in India. Does this mean I’m never going to eat meat? Hell no. Short of the occasional squid/prawn/fish meal, the veg. food tastes so much better than those with chicken or mutton. Maybe there’s something in this whole sacred-cow thing, as I haven’t eaten one shred of beef in the past 3 weeks, and not really had any withdraws. Am I off beef for good? Read the above answer. I’m sure the moment I return home I’ll be first in line for a juicy cheeseburger or steak…but until then, I’m happy with the various cheeses/tofu/vegetables because they contain one thing that western vegetarian meals don’t: Flavor.

That’s right. Flavor. Somewhere along the line us white devils forgot what word means. Allow me to explain:

American vegetarian: Fresh (freshly frozen for most) vegetables steamed/boiled beyond recognition with a plain salad. No dressing. It might have some hooves or snout in it.

Indian vegetarian: Paneer Kolhapuri contains the following ingredients: coconut, yogurt, tomato, coriander, garlic, TONS of red chili, tumeric, limes, bay leaves, cinnamon, cloves, pepper, onions, and some salt. Simmer for a while, and you’ve got a bubbling pot of non-meat goodness that will set your mouth on fire and fill your stomach quickly.

America: 0, India: 1

I know I’ve been talking a lot about food lately, but it’s a pretty big thing down here. Almost as big as Ganesh. It’s important because food here has meaning. It’s something you really don’t see anymore in the “civilized” world. You see people actually gather around a table, being served a platter of food (as opposed to separatist, evenly proportioned plates), and talk. The kitchen is the hub of activity here. The chefs aren’t hidden in the back, away from sight. Most of the time, the chef is fighting you for elbow space to work in. It’s the way things are supposed to be. It’s a family comprised of strangers, friends, and everyone in between. Trust me, those people on the other end of the table aren’t going to be strangers for long when they decide to share their meal with you.

In many ways, I wish America would adopt some of the things I’ve been seeing here in Mumbai. We USA’ers live very private lives. I know of a good handful of people that could benefit from having to share their “personal space” with someone who speaks a completely different language and has the smell of someone who has never seen a bar of soap. We need to have someone we’ve never seen before sit down to the seat next to us, ask if they want to try some of the food, and have a conversation about a sport you’ve never thought existed. There really is nothing like entering a bathroom with a hole in the floor, and a faucet above said hole. Really forces you to think differently.

Sigh, I’m missing this place and I haven’t even left yet.

Before I leave, allow me to post some pictures of me celebrating International Talk Like A Pirate Day at work with the class (artwork drawn by yours truly, Cap’n Iggy Kookypants):

Mind you, I had all the students pick pirate names and they all had to ask for permission to board the classroom at the beginning of the day. It’s a good thing people in india know what pirates are, otherwise it would have been an awkward day.