the holy land and the unholy deeds.

after 10 months abroad i have finally returned to the mother land! no... not russia... israel!!
hurray!
when i arrived to the apartment at first dressed in my blue suit trying to make somethnig different
of the environment i left back home i was immediately pushed back into reality by E "what are you wearing? what are you a faggot?!" (no offence intended toward faggots) . i wanted to say "no i'm not a fucking faggot", but instead; took off the jacket and sat down to smoke some of the local stuff i missed so much... (i know i'm weak, but it's hydroponics... you try saying your not a fagot to give that up... don't judge me!!!)
and then everything came back to normal, staring at my big screen tv, stoned and drunk and happy.
now back to moderately priced alcohol and the biggest (per tel aviv)
amount of beautiful women to walk the earth.
now that, in my opinion, is the only reason jews or israelis are the chosen people/country

(honestly, i don't think anyone thought we really were chosen until bikinis were invented...)
some of god's angels must have come to tel aviv in the summer and stayed at the beach for a few hours.
(angel A: "Oh maan! would you look at that?! should we kill her and take her with us?"
angel B: "naaah man... she's still a virgin, wouldn't want those terrorists getting her right? let's just wait for a while...")
this is un-fucking believable! especially after coming back from India. just walking around in the streets and smiling like an idiot. that probably took most of my 2 weeks there. i love this city!

I got there because some friends and family members forgot how much they hate me and decided they want to be reminded about it, so they bought me a round trip ticket to israel and back to india just to make sure. (haha! what done is done! stupid...)

as loyal readers already know i never say no to free stuff, let alone a free flight. so there i was. with my new suit at the arrivals terminal in israel... hugging and kissing anyone unlucky enough to come in my way.

after the formalities i was lovingly kidnapped by my parents to the wasteland which some people call a social desert and others (city council...) call a social settlement.
i spent a night in family solitude and moved on to greater and much more socially pleasing areas. e.g tel aviv.
the beating heart of Israel and the middle east (at least...). Moving back to my old apartment i realized that life is different when you are un-employed and most of your friends are busy students or working cooperative bees...( you know who you are! you slaves of Americanization you!!!)
Obviously that didn't stop me from getting drunk daily and enjoying the free city life
i so much needed and deserved.
the beaches as i mentioned earlier were just one of the many reasons to come back from a vacation to a different vacation several thousand miles away.
my 2 games of matkot during the 2 weeks reminded me how come i stayed in shape in israel. and that really is all that kept me from being the skin and bone i am today. (don't look at me! i'm almost hideous!!!)
i've visited most of the holy places in israel during my stay obviously... (me being a very religious person)
i've been to la champa bar to attend the ceremony of cava drinking and getting too drunk at least 3 times.
been to the holy city of jerusalem to visit holy love and drinking shrines...
and who could possibly forget my visit to the not so holy but good food and free vodka shots shrine headed by T.
T is an old acquaintance of mine from a time of hard work and desperate struggle for money (convincing people to buy things they don't need is never easy...) so we met with a few friends in the bar she works at.
one shot of vodka led to another to a total of 13. 2 beers accompanied those 13 and one benny became kind of intoxicated. we moved out of there swaying from side to side back to T's apartment for a puff. we made it
with the help of a friendly taxi driver and sat down for a smoke. Z at that point (we have me... T,O and Z) was laying down on the sofa, giggled for 40 seconds and puked for 3 minutes.
she was taken to the shower, puked for another 10 minutes giggling senselessly while me and O were busy
making sure were high enough to stay drunk enough.
Z was then taken to the bed, puked there for 5 more times and moved back to the shower. (she's also available for house and room puke painting, contact me in person for additional info)
at this point i looked at O trying to listen to what he says and all of a sudden the whole room moved a little to the right. i held my head and shaked it, everything was aligned again. 2 minutes pass and the same thing happens.
T walks out of the shower, i smile at her, i get up and walk to the toilet. i look down, i let go of my insides and spill them all over the toilet. and now to the word of advice: try to stay as close to the bowl as possible when that happens. i puked once and it took me 5 seconds. it took me another 10 minutes to clean the walls of the toilet which were filled with particles of green beans and stuff... i stumbled back home afterwards and a few days later re-visited the cava shrine for my goodbye party. getting inside my costume suit again i was kept in a drunken state for a few hours couldn't really tell you too much about that party except it was touching but only in a mental way. (again with the sexual connotations... I'm horrible...)
the next and last day we went out to another place and this time B has decided he's keeping me up untill dawn. so we were walking aimlessly around tel aviv sometimes drinking sometimes eating until we got to a place that simply refused to notice we are there and made me thank god for it and convinced me it's time to sleep.
the next day i took a train to the airport and from here a new traveling and luggage saga begins. stay tuned
and keep your browsers on target!

delhi, the place where suits and dreams come true...

out of kasol and back to delhi.

where it all began just a couple of months ago.

arriving at the main bazaar is kind of like arriving to the inside of an oven with 5 different people trying to sell you something every 5 cm or so... lucky for me that after a month and a half in india i already got some of the repelling products like the divia tank top and the cheap handmade bracelet...

once you have those they know your not new there and the harassing gets cut down in about 95%.

but people are still prone to make mistakes. especially when your like me and you have

the curiosity of a crow and the shopping enthusiasm of a 30 yrs old single career woman...

(which means it's high... do i have to explain everything to you people?!)

one of my mistakes was that a guy came up to me with a sun glasses case and told me it's

a ray-ban. i wanted to see, i tried it on. i said i don't like it so he started to bargain.

1200 rupees!

no... don't need.

1050 rupees!

i don't want it... i think it's ugly...

800!

NO!

500?

i just don't like it... can you leave me alone?!

300 rupees! that's it...
(at this point i decided that the only way to get rid of him is to make sure he loses more of the deal than i do...)

ARGHH!!! ok, for 50 i'll take it.

no no... look at quality, Rei Bun original! 150...

50!

150...? only 150...

Get away from me! let go of my arm!! WTF is wrong with you?! i don't like the shades!!!

at this point he let me go and even that happened only because he spotted another tourist

looking around aimlessly...

so now that you know all of this it would be pretty easy to understand how i ended up dragging

B around clothes stores to find a suit. everyone's looking for the highway to success these days, and i decided that whatever it is i plan to succeed in i'll be wearing a suit, so why not cut the middle hard work part and skip forward to the suit part?! genious! i thought that with a suit i might even get laid... (that one didn't work as i planned, appearantly "hey, let's do something with me, you and that clitoris" is just as un-effective with a suit as it is without one...)
During our almost a week stay in india we were able to pass all the clothing shops in the branded area of delhi the "caunaght place" and drive most of the sales people frustratingly mad.
since our shopping hours were somewhat different than those of the "working people" a lot of the times the ratio between us and the sales people was 8:1 against...
imagine entering a shop with about 20 zombies... err... sales people and their all desperate for brains! err... sorry... customers... so we get in and immidiately they start stumbling on each other to reach you and show you something and hide behind doors to shout at each other...
they're persuasive skills were good. but they didn't hold against our special "we have no money"
powers...
Eventually we found a shop with only one salesman, wasted about 2 hours choosing inside and got out of there with a suit, a song in our hearts and no holes in our wallets.
i'm really trying to keep this one short so i'll finish wih an anecdote...
i'm sitting in front of a computer in one of the hostels in the area.
a woman walks in, asks if she can use a computer and when prompted for her hotel and room
number she gives my hotel and my room number...
i look back, and tell her "eh, that's my room! surprised i never noticed you there".
she gives me an angry look and spits out "i don't remember the exact number! it's on the second floor" and she sits down on the PC next to me.
so i'm a nice guy and i start a conversation...
"it's funny i havent noticed you there, we've been staying there for 4 days now".
she says " really? me too, almost a week"
me says "were leaving soon though, my friends bougt me a ticket back to my country, where are you from?"
she goes "switzerland, your from?"
and me... i'm not thinking, i just go "israel"
and then she explodes! "it is you singing in hebrew in morning?! you suck! all israelis are fuck!!"
you can probably guess from knowing me and how good natured i am that i'm just surprised and shocked... but she doesn't care... she goes on...
"you don't care about anything!" (i was singing in the shower at 12:30 PM which i think is ratehr reasonable but hey...)
i try to reason with her "well you can always knock on my door, i'll stop, i have no ambitions to be more annoying than i allready am..."
she just gets up, throws a "fuck you!!!" at me, throws a 10 rupee note at the indian guy in charge and storms out.
turnong around from the other side of the glass mouthing "FUCK YOU!" at me again...
i greet her back with a fuck you and a finger through the window hoping we'll meet again for tea in the afternoon...

and then i'm off to israel...

a bit late, but this is the kasol story...

dear blog, it's time to wake up...

so... we were leaving bagsu and going for kasol.
what we found out from refugees who visited and ran away after a period of hours to days back to the loving bosom of bhagsu is that "arsim" could be found there (arsim - a kind of low intelligence goblin with the ability to speak hebrew and use hair gel, bred in urban reserves around israel).
so without much to go on but driven by our desire to see at least one more place before my 5 months in india are over (to the point of leaving B' on his death bed, or so we though

t) we packed our bags and headed towards the un-known.
D was so stressed out by the possibility of arsim that once we arrived to kasol she immidiately began running in a frenzy screaming "we have to get out of here, let's find a taxi, no! let's start walking!! we have to ruuuun!! they'll catch us and make us go to habad house to pray to god!
needless to say we simply threw some encouraging words and a few mint tea glasses at her to calm her down. after D has been pacified and tied to a joint we decided to find a place to stay.
after a few days of looking for a place we finally found it:

nirvana, The Taji house, huge room, shower, lawns, serene river flowing under m

y window, mountains on the horizon, 3 friends with diarrhea (2nd most common cause of death in infants!)

it was a clever scheme probably designed in some dark basement in one of old kasol's buildings.
they know nobody wants to stay there because of the arsim. so once a group arrives they choose
one or several people to poison with food and that keeps the tourists inside the area.
ingenious isn't it? well, it worked on us. 3 of my friends got hit with the free flow disease...
and so we stayed at the taji day after day while i'm watching my friends waste away one liter
of shit after another (pardon my french...)
After a few un-eventful (outside the cabin's toilet) but beautiful days in kasol we finally decide to go up to the villages. but not before B decided to have a verbal conflict with a waiter in

one of the restaurants...

B: can i get orange juice?

waiter: papaya juice is very good.

B: ok, can i get orange juice

waiter: papaya mango even better than papaya.

B: ... (confused look) err... can i get orange juice?

waiter: no mango or papaya?

B: orange juice?
waiter: papaya orange?

B: orange juice!

waiter: ...waves hand in dismissal.

B: orange juice?

waiter: shows an angry face, and goes away.

so basically the customer is always right untill the waiter is right and then the customer is just

definitely wrong and has no idea what the fuck he's talking about

as long as we're on the subject of things that happen all the time in india... one more thing that tends to happen to a lot of people is that they tend to get obsessed with something indian and feel like it's something they have to do because that is what actually defines they're connection to the country.

For most people it's drugs. for some people, the privileged few it's something else.

"A" for example has turned into a kind of a mislead peanuts eating rodent. every place we arrived to he spent the first 30 minutes looking for "masala" peanuts. and on top of that he starts taking it personally. a place that doesn't have masala peanuts will have a taste of his jewish wrath.

"what do you mean you don't have any?!"

"don't have... only regular peanuts"

"you mean you don't have any now and you will later or you mean you never had any and your waisting my time?!?!"

"sir, you come my shop..."

"what has that got to do with anything?!?!, find me some MASALA PEANUTS!!!!"

at this point we usually have to grab a hold of him before he turns green and huge and sarts throwing tanks and other machinery at random indians...

anyway... we moved on to the villages. Tosh was first.

there were about 15 of us so we decided to order two jeeps. after about 10 minutes a jeep arrives. 2 minutes more and a car arrives (suzuki maruti). something about the size of a mini cooper with the prestige of an auto-riksha.

when inquering the guy in charge where are the 2 jeeps we were promised he points out at the jeep and says "here, jeep. and over there small jeep". first we tried to explain that the small jeep is actually a "car" and even if it was a small jeep it's still not big enough to carry everyone. after going outside and walking around the mini car for about 5 minutes we finally got him convinced that the only thing getting into the small jeep car is a dog, a handbag and if we try really hard we might squeeze in a midget as well...

another real jeep was ordered and got there after 20 minutes.

we started stuffing the insides of the jeep with people and the top with bags. i got the honors

(or so i thought) of sitting up front with our driver. 2 minutes after we started our journey i noticed that although there was about 30 cm between my leg and the shift for some strange reason his hand kept sliding over my leg for no reason. and all the while humming weird shit in

hindu. the rest of the passengers disregarded my pleas for help ("he's touching me!! why is he doing this?!") just kept cracking up and encouraging the driver (gotta love my friends eh?).

i tried to move as far as possible towards the door but it wasn't enough, he started using the

"can anyone give me a ciggarette" trick and the known follow up of "can you light this please" asking me to light it myself and pass it to him. probably a sick way of getting a taste of my young boyish sexy lips...

apart from that incident the whole jeep ride was accompanied by scared looks of the driver outside with remarks like "look, bags sit good?" and while he kept repeating that never once did he even consider slowing down or offering us to make sure it's tied... ah well... eventually we did get to tosh. i ran out of the car and did my best to prevent all eye contact with my assailant. (which was licking his lips suspiciously, i've been told)

Tosh is beautiful, surrounded by waterfalls and an abundance of river paths. playful children and happy (alas very bored) grown indians.

after "A" had his way with one of the kiosk operators, we met some indian guy travelling before

he goes studying electronic music production in the UK. (he belongs to the "industrial" cast that decided to move on to the "D.J having sex with models" cast).

A short while of taking showers with buckets and freezing to death from lack of blankets we have decided it's time for another village and together a group of 20 of us decided to carry on.

And so again a group of 20 people with bongs chilums and guitars are walking the wilderness. (not exactly what colombus had in mind when he decided to start exploring, but he got his continents mixed up so i guess he doesn't know shit anyway)

an hour or so of walking later we arrive at kallga. not as pretty as tosh. not as welcoming. not as anything really... but i did get a couple experiences nailed there.

first and foremost it was my first real stomach ache and diahreah lesson! hurray for me!

i'll let you in on the details because i know you like that...

i've had a few days in which i had no apetite and arriving in kallga for some reason we decided to stay in the cheapest place we could find. an example would be a toilet which lets out the shit water right next to you when you flush, getting the bottom part of your pants literally "shit wet".

so i go to sleep, wake up, go to the woods with a book. look at a tree, puke at a tree. go to the toilet, and that kinda finished my day.... i've read about 140 pages in that toilet session. (and i'm not a quick reader, i can preomise you that).

i have moved on or should i say moved back to eating plain rice and plain toast for the following 5 days. which would be great if i was in 16th century china but sucked ass in 21st century india surrounded by munched people stuffing their faces with all sorts of chickens and spices while i am forced to eat 2 Kg of rice and 1 Kg of bread a day. (sure, i could have anything i want but that would mean making a concious decision to stay in the toilet for the rest of my trip)

that was my confession. the other thing i've learned in kalga is that there is no god.

i can promise you that... a guy who travelled with us stepped on shit 6 times in about 40 minutes. while no one else did. which means there has to be some devine intervention for that to happen. and if there is devine intervention for that it means god really has nothing better to do.

which doesn't make any sense and thus creating a paradox. conclusion: no god.

i think that makes perfect sense.

who would have thought you'd get to learn something as important as that from reading all this crap i'm writing eh?

so that's basically it. we came back to kasol, i was told that my friends and family bought a 2 way ticket from india to israel and back so i can take a look at all the progress that has been made with the "ha bima" building in tel aviv (and also i had a birthday) and next post is about glamorous delhi and the quest for a suit get ready, get drunk!