Lunges with convenience

I'm in Delhi drinking hot chi out of a dirty cup, while sitting on an ancient computer. I left my friends yesterday to travel solo. I realized that I don't travel like others do. I'd much rather be sexually harassed, sleep in dirty hotels where the front desk help looks like a bunch of criminals, get random knocks on my door at all hours, than stay at the Sheraton. Some might call it self sabotage, but I prefer the road less traveled.

Things simmered down after my friends arrived in Delhi. After picking them up, I took them past the human feces, cows, drug dealers, and burning garbage to my crack hotel, so I could pick up my back pack. They looked at me like I was insane. How could I have suggested that they would want to stay in such a shit hole? Normal, regular human beings would not subject themselves to such low standards. So, we made our way to a safer area of the city and ended up staying in a fancy quest house with its own terrace and living room for $180 a night. I argued that the cost of this room was way out of my budget, but my friend told me not to worry that he would pay for the room. Delirious and sleep deprived I went to sleep. I awoke the next morning to find my travel mates wearing their jogging outfits ready to go for a run. That's when I started questioning their sanity. How were they going to go jogging wearing in their Lulu Lemon work-out outfit past begging, malnourished children?

While my travel mates preformed lunges and sit-ups, I went downstairs to eat breakfast. I was seated at a large table with nice, stereotypical, frat boy Americans, who spoke of beer and fake breasts. I told them about my plans for extensive meditation here in India and one of the guys said, "I'll meditate...haha...on a bottle of whiskey." Understanding of their ignorance, but knew this conversation was headed nowhere, I retreated back to my room shortly after eating my bowl of cereal. I found my travel mates expressing their enthusiasm for the venture ahead, while drinking Indian beer. Interesting I thought, doing squats to drinking beer. They informed me that they had hired a driver to drive us down to Jaipur from Delhi and take us sight seeing for three days. What? We rented a driver to drive us around India in a safe, clean, A/C mini van? What about getting lost, harassed, shoved, and pick-pocketed at the train station?

So, the driver, Jogainder, conveniently picked us up at the guest house and our journey began. Driving from town to town, we observed India safely through the confinement of our A/C mini van. Stopping only at clean tourist-approved rest areas for a bite and tea. After five hours of driving and seeing a handful of dead animals on the road, such as a cow, a couple of dogs, a cat, and a pig, we arrived in Jaipur. Jaipur, known as the "pink city," was no different from the typical madness we had so far seen in India. Hundreds and hundreds of people doing hundreds and hundreds of different things, such as pissing, shitting, begging, and praying...I love India...xoxo...to be continued...