Smarmy Army

Man there are a lot of Israelis in India.

I have met so many. Rory and Adam warned me that this may be the case. They also said don’t trust them. I figured, ok, fair enough, I won’t. But that would leave me about six other people in the whole of India to talk to.

We actually celebrated the Jewish new year the other day in our hotel. I went and sat in and ate some apples with honey, some pomegranate and some pizza. And listened to some Jewish prayer. It was fascinating.

Nah, it wasn’t.

But the Israelis make me laugh. I learned that everyone has to join the army for a couple of years, aged 16 or 18 or something. Now, imagine imposing that demand upon an entire generation of youths.

It has created an army of the most vicious casualties of hedonism I have ever met. The guy who moved into the room opposite me has a traveller’s beard, greasy unwashed hair, filthy baggy clothes and the kind of half-opened eyes that make you want to offer Optrex or career advice. He’s a total mess.

He crashed his motorbike on the way to Jaipur (my guess - he was skinning up) and had to get it towed to a garage yesterday. I saw him just before he left for the garage in the afternoon. He was already very stoned, and then took another three bowl loads in a row, coughed a bit, made some noise of irritation that he had to do anything requiring movement that day and then left to sort his bike out.

He does have a guitar though, as does another Israeli guy I met. This second guy brought his guitar up to the Tiger Fort (a big fort at the top of the hill, like most forts) and we played some songs for the various Israeli, English and Irish friends from the hotel. We aimed to get there to watch the sunset, but got there about thirteen seconds after the sun had sneaked behind a hill. It was good light though, and made for some nice photos.

Jaipur’s a bit rubbish really. I don’t like it. I’m staying purely for the tuition. I suppose it’s not a bad thing because I’m not tempted to actually leave the hotel as it’s so dusty and smoggy outside with little to do. So it is forcing me to spend time reading, writing, playing and socialising. Which is good. Though a change of scene would be nice.
It is a good job I write this blog though, as it reminds me that I am capable of forming sentences with elaborate vocabulary, delicate nuances of syntax and the kind of filth a I can get away with saying at home. Because constantly talking to Teena (not Tina!) and her family and an entire army of Israelis is making my English become this ugly, bastard universal language speak. Where every sentence must be eloquently (yet dumbly) pronounced, every word accented with a slight American tinge to ensure it is more readily understood, and every metaphor, simile, morsel of wit and invented swear word quantified. It’s a bit of a struggle. And can make you come across a bit more boring than you really are.

Belated birthday greetings to circlecock. May all the things that happened to you yesterday have involved some ominous tidal circularity.