Indian Moments, Part 3


Indians refer to Native North Americans as Red Indians.

We ordered bottled water to our table and it was…Foster’s branded. Foster’s branded water. It would seem kind of okay with, say, Coca-Cola, if they put their brand on water, but a beer company putting its brand on water is just plain suspect. An Indian told me that alcohol ads are illegal. Maybe this is only true for foreign alcohol or something, because I see billboards occasionally. So, Foster’s and other companies advertise their money-making product by putting their brand on other products. Coming soon: Foster’s brand power bars, wallets and shoes.

Indians eat dinner very late for me, around 8 or 9. Combine this with bars closing at 11:30 in Bangalore, and its generally shitty for nightlife. Moreonthislater.

Car Accident! No one was hurt, fortunately.

On a recent trip between Bangalore and Mangalore (theyaredifferent), we stopped at a highway rest-stop. Similar to the west, this is where truckers stop for some food at night. The power went out partway through, and we were reduced to candles. This is something I have now adjusted to. The stars though…they were awesome! So many stars and I couldn’t recognize any of them. (At home, I’m somewhat of an astronomy buff).

I’m reading one of Gandhi’s autobiographies, “My Experiments With Truth”. As I was unpacking my bag at a hotel, I put my shoes on the floor, and the book face-up one foot away from it. One of the Indian guys I was travelling with got very angry, saying “Don’t put Gandhi-ji next to the footwear!”, so I moved it onto a table. Feet are considered quite unclean and offensive here.

“What you just said would be considered racist in Canada.”
“Yeah, we don’t have that problem here.”

We stopped at a restaurant, and they were excited to show me the roosters they owned for cockfighting. The restaurant owner held on to the tail of one of the roosters while the other’s foot was tied to a post and they really wanted to go at it. In an actual cockfight, they strap razors to the cock’s feet to make it real crazy dangerous and bloody. That’s fucked.

“What’s your hole story?”
Seen on an ad that’s attempted to leverage participatory media for advertising donut-shaped breath mints. Poor word choices.

I went to a birthday party for this girl who was going into Engineering! Here’s me, chatting with the kids. The birthday girl isn’t in this picture.

And here is everyone. A huge extended family!

[in Mangalore]
“Wow, these waves are awesome! Do you have anybody surf here?”
“No, there isn’t really any surfing.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, Indians are lazy.”

I met a guy whose Indian name was hard to pronounce, so he told me to call him “MC Dave”. When he found out we were the same age, he told me I looked like a teenager. What a guy. MC Dave is second from the left. The guy right next to me is Dattathreya Raj.

Some guys found out my last name was Freeman. They thought it was the most hilarious thing ever, and laughed drunkenly about it all night. “Hey free man!”

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