India Trip Day 7

Shajy and Shine picked us up around mid-morning for a visit to the countryside. We counted cows and potholes as we drove along. I mentioned they reminded me of Philadelphia. The potholes, that is.

At one point Shajy pointed out a large house with a gate in front.
"That man is rich. He owns thirteen buses." He added the owner was a "bad man" and everyone's afraid of him. We took his word for it.

We passed the city and entered a beautiful open area. Shajy stopped the car and pointed out several monkeys crossing the road. They chased each other until a passing truck honked. Then they scrambled up the trees and ignored us as we took advantage of the photo op. After a few good pictures we pressed on.

The road soon gave way to a steep and narrow dirt path. We passed various plants on either side, grown for selling. The farmland stretched for miles.

We came to a level spot in the ground and parked. Down a slim path was a wiener dog, a small hut, and many more trees and plants. Cashew fruits were spread on a mat in front of the hut.

"Be careful", Shajy warned as he pointed to the dog and the step path. He held back the little black dog that was on a chain, warning us that he bites. "Because of the monkeys. They come to eat the plants."

We walked to the hut and Shine showed us an air rifle. For the monkeys.

Shajy showed us inside the hut. It's a good size, since the family sometimes stays there. The kitchen is simple but effective.

He pointed out a good-sized stable connected to the front of the house. The former owners had cows out there so first thing every morning they could see and worship them.

They warned him not to change it. He would get a curse. He said if God wants to curse him, He can. He now uses the stable to store fertilizer.

We left the house and hiked through the farm area. Trees and vines were thick, forming a green shady forest. Bananas, coconuts cashews, mangoes and jack fruits grew on some of them. Shajy would later load his car with a bag of cashews for selling.

A family works on his land and helps take care of it. He said he hired people he can trust.

At one point we stood in an area thick with banana stalks. Shajy explained they should be ready in a couple of months.

Just before we came to India it rained heavily. Shajy pointed out some stalks that broke as a result.

"If the Lord gives, that's good. If He takes away, that's okay, too." He tries to teach his kids the same.

We made our way back to the house to enjoy some coconut. A worker picked up a curved blade and quickly cut holes for pouring coconut water. According to some doctors, all you need is coconut water to stay strong.

More quick blade work and we had coconuts opned for eating, complete with spoons made from the same coconuts. Tom Hanks and the cast of Gilligan's Island would be proud.

The coconuts were soft and sweet. we had two each and called it a day.

Shajy informed us that the land doesn't make a lot of money. His family likes to come over when they need to relax. It's quite peaceful, so I could see their point.

On the way back Shajy carefully avoided hitting cows. Many people in this area worship cows, so it's best to avoid hitting them. I don't recall having that problem in the Catskills.

The ride back was peaceful and quiet excepting the usual honking to alert traffic and passersby of our presence. Shajy sang hymns in two languages, one of them being English. The honks matched the rhythm of the songs as we neared the campus. Soon, we were back yet again.

We had beef for lunch at Dr. Roy's house. I kept myself from blurting, "Can we eat that here?"

Our meals were delicious and huge, but different than I expected. Rice with raisins and thinly sliced carrots became a new favorite. Slightly sweet and light or crispy and flavorful rice cakes were tasty, too.

Shajy and Dr. Roy took us to the beach with their families in the evening. The ocean was surprisingly warm, but swimming wasn't an option in slacks. I followed the lead of most men and rolled them up for wading.

Spectators, swimmers and people riding in boats all wore shirts and slacks (men), saris (women), and jeans (boys and girls). A few spectating women wore birkas. Only a few spectators wore shorts.

Beka, Shine, his older brother Sean, and I took turns flying a kite. Children rode past us on camels. In the sea jet skis and boats, filled with fully-dressed people, bounced on the waves and skipped along. We sat back and enjoyed the sea air for a while, then headed back to the city to pick up some gifts.