MIDDLE INDIA 2
Looking at India with Fresh Eyes
Cute and gushing at 58 years old
I now know for sure, I am getting desperate for some sort of interaction. I decided to go on my regular walk, around the township loop. And guess what — I have been spotted.
The other day a co-worker of Buggalugs asked, “How is your wife settling in?”
“It’s very quiet — it’s been a bit hard.”
“Oh, I’ve seen her going for a walk — she is really CUTE.”
As I spurt my coffee, I’m pretty impressed. I haven’t been called cute since I was 2 — but there ya go, I’ve still got it — I might be 58 but I’m CUTE. I’m gonna strut my stuff.
“If you see her again say, please say hello, she will very much appreciate it.”
So on that note, this cute little cherub has spent the last few days, on the lookout for something exciting and inspiring.
I am looking at everything with fresh eyes, everything is new and different to my normal and this is what adventure is all about. Taking it all in.
A couple of days back, in the distance, I spotted a lady, who I had approached and spoken to previously. We had a brief exchange of words — noice (Oztraylian for nice — pronounced n-oye-s) words, not nasty words. She was out stretching her dawg’s (easy translation — dog’s) legs. I’m not really a dog person, especially not little dawgs, but I was interested to meet her and her pug.
She did tell me his name, but sadly I have misplaced it in my frazzled brain. I will now call him Puggalugs. The problem with little dawgs they sometimes have really big chips on their shoulders — they either yap or snarl, chase you trying to wipe their bums on you or want to hump your leg. He had big eyes, a squishy face, very pug like and was a solid as a brick shit house (Oztraylian for something of a solid build, usually a big bloke, so this was a little brick shit house, with 4 legs).
The next day, on my daily walk, I spotted Puggalugs. He was on his lead, out to do his ablutions, when as I approached, that little man syndrome came out fair and square. The aggro little shit (Oztraylian for grumpy little asshole) tried to bite me. He was snarling, frothing down his little jowly jaws — ready to rip my big toe off. He was with someone different so maybe it was a protection thing, who knows — or maybe he’s just a little shit.
The following day, it must have been poo time again, I thought I will just say Good Morning, as it was the original lady, but will keep wandering as I don’t want to intrude or seem too pushy. As I get up close, she glanced at me, saw me coming, old Puggalugs made a dash for the bushes, she turns her back on me the other way, not even worried about Puggalugs or what he was up to. I glanced at both of them — like a tennis match really — sighed and kept on walking.
Well pppffttt to that, (obviously not cute enough for her). So be it — as my mum used to say “it’s water off a duck’s back”. I toddle along and there is a bloke getting on his moped. I glance and say, “Good Morning” and he actually replies and asks how I am settling in.
I paused, “Yes, going well thank you, and thank you so much for asking.” It was a very brief interaction but it was still so very nice that he stopped. There really is light at the end of the tunnel. Further on, I spot another lady who was holding a little tacker (Oztraylian for tiny baby) — pretty much a brand new one — straight out of that stork’s mouth.
I said hello and then proceeded to gush about the baby — he was 6 weeks old — huge head of hair — which apparently his father has and she had him outside getting a bit of sun. He had just had his bath and I also found out she has another one who was in school. This place would be ideal for that stage of life — having little tackers — generally you are so caught up — running around like a chook with your head cut off (Oztraylian for frantically trying to get everything done) that your daily life is all consumed with feeding, shitty nappies, projectile spew, no sleep, and trying to organise some sanity into your life. But this little black duck has passed her child-birthing years — “It be gone I say” — all shrivelled up and disappeared.
I am a hypocrite — if friends had heard me gush and goo about this baby they would have choked on their crumpets (it is winter at home — crumpets and winter go together). Even as the words were leaving my lips — I’m thinking, “I”m gonna be struck by lightning”. My besties all know I’m not a baby gusher, a baby holder or a baby patter — they are slippery little suckers that wriggle and squirm. This one, in the baby stakes, was pretty cute, very alert and cooing (see again, I can hear that thunder rumbling in the distance). I decide, to save my life and my soul I better skedaddle — I wasn’t feeling the desire to be burnt and crispy.
I bid my farewell, kept on my walk saying “Good Morning” to all the ladies doing the hard labour work. These ladies are the local village ladies who come in and help maintain the place, the gardens, picking up rubbish, sweeping the foot paths and sweeping the roads. They are all very curious and even though we can’t speak one other’s language we always greet each other with a smile.
I had a win in the morning, at the Cheesy/Milkman — I managed to get some ice-creams to put in our mini bar, mini freezer — I have worked out it can hold about 4 ice-creams. I also scored a couple of soft drinks.
The nice veggie boy, out the back, had some bananas, so they were a goer (Oztraylian for thumbs up, a win) sadly the Cupboard Shop was still shut and I’ve run out of coffee. Things might get dangerous.
Oh and here’s a picture of the local village ladies digging gravel into small baskets — putting the baskets on their hard hats — walking about 5 metres and then tipping said baskets into the bloody truck. People have been busily painting all the trees white as the Big Chief Head Honcho is apparently coming soon, for a visit. It’s the place to be at seems.
I will head down to the Cupboard Shop again to see if he opens tonight at 6 — apparently it’s wise to take a torch as things come out at night. Snakes that is NOT vampires — just great.
At least if nothing else, please let me find coffee. Trying to stream anything on TV has been crap, everyone is sucking on the internet (and the internet is really bad anyway), no friends, no coffee and no TV — breathe….but all good — I have ice-creams that have only been melted a little bit, and bananas, so I’m happy.
If you missed it, here’s the first part of my Middle India adventure.
Thanks for reading.
