Monkeys, Elephants, and Indian Aerobics

Indian Calisthenics: The scene was 5:30 a.m., sunrise at the beach in Pondicherry, a postcolonial French town on the Southeast coast of India on the Bay of Bengal. I got up to watch the sun rise, expecting a quiet and deserted beach. Hardly! And it was quite a scene, to my American eyes. Pople were out doing all the things we do when we exercise in the morning at home…just Indian-style. Women power-walked up the promenade in saris and Nike sneakers, often in matching colors. Men were jogging in skintight sweatpants and were wearing sweatbands that I swear were straight out of a 1980’s Richard Simmons video. Others just jogged in their dhotis (white wraparound skirts.) Then there was the aerobics and yoga on the sand. Surprise surprise, Indians don’t look like Americans when they do yoga! Men performed arm circles, lunges and toe touches with such enthusiasm that I was worried they would dislocate something. Then there was this one move where they vigorously pumped their arms together and apart. My guess is that it was to build and gather energy or prana or something, but they kind of looked like a bunch of penguins exuberantly applauding the ocean for reaching the shore again and again.

Best Recent Animal Experience: The holy elephant outside a nearby Shiva temple. Seemingly content and undoubtedly bored, the elephant stands on a sturdy platform to the right of the temple entrance and sports a freshly painted design on his forehead everyday, usually in red, gold, and purple tikka powder. Pilgrims flock to the temple to make offerings and perform puja, and they invariably hit up the elephant for a blessing on the way in or out. Actually, it’s really the other way around. First they buy a 10 rupee banana leaf plate with rice, bananas, and coconut from the wallahs nearby, to give to the elephant in offering. (Note: The elephant is standing under a sign on which it is clearly written in Hindi, Tamil, and English, “Do not feed the elephant rice, bananas, or coconut.” Really.) Then the pilgrim holds up the plate and the elephant swings his trunk and smartly plucks it from their outstretched hands, put it in his mouth, and then swings his trunk back up and thwacks them on the head. And just like that, you’ve been blessed. Also, I bet you didn’t know this: elephants have very hairy trunks. Yes, I petted his trunk. It was very muscly and warm, with leather skin that wrinkled in lines that reminded me of my dad’s forehead when his eyebrows shoot up in surprise or disbelief. A warning: if you ever pet an elephant’s trunk, watch out for the snout. Elephants have snot just like the rest of us, but in much more copious amounts. Otherwise, fantastic animals.

Snacks You Can Get On the Street: Fresh coconut milk. So fresh, it’s still in the coconut. Wagons overflowing with the fruit dot the streets in south India. The seller hacks a hole in the top with a machete, sticks in a straw, and presto; sweet milky drink. Delicious but slightly awkward to handle when you try to drink and walk down the street. (Sloshing is a problem in a mobile coconut.) Other fresh fruits we have here are guava, pineapple, pomegranate, papaya and mango. Another favorite snack of mine is fresh corn on the cob roasted and smoked over charcoal, then coated with limejuice, salt, and chili pepper. Very, very, very hot chili pepper. It was like a 5-alarm fire in my mouth. But so tasty. Then there is everything and anything that could possibly be drenched in sugary syrup and deep-fried. Spicy samosas, made right in front of you, usually served with tomato chutney or relish to dip in. And then, of course, the best chai in the world. Seriously. They serve it in little terracotta clay cups that you are supposed to smash on the ground when you finish your tea, so that they can’t be reused. The whole caste tradition of purity and pollution dictates this. One mouth per cup. P.s. – chai tastes much better in a clay cup.

Best Human-Animal Interaction: Cheeky monkeys. I was sitting on my backpack on the platform at the station, waiting for our train. So much goes on at an Indian train station. People milling around, talking, reading, sleeping and begging. The usual. I was just reading my book, minding my own business when a chapatti (Indian pita bread) suddenly falls from the sky and hits me on the head. Startled, I looked around to see if someone had thrown it (which would make no sense, given how precious food is here,) when I heard some excited chittering above me. I looked up and saw three monkeys literally hanging from the rafters over my head! One had apparently dropped his purloined pita, and was not very happy about it. Not wanting the monkey to come down to me and retrieve it (they’re really big and disarmingly intelligent, and more than a little intimidating,) I tossed the chapatti up at them and one reached out from his perch and caught it! As a former centerfielder I was impressed with his reach, though the form was lacking. And my coach always frowned upon doing happy dances and screeching when we caught a ball, though considering it was a monkey catching a chapatti, I probably shouldn’t be so critical.

Getting food at this train station was a challenge, for certain aforementioned simian reasons. It proved too much for one unsuspecting woman who had just procured herself a tasty bread and masala omelet. The vendor had wrapped it in a page from The Daily Hindu to keep the grease off her fingers. Neither of them saw the monkey that quietly moved along the crossbeam over the woman’s head, and then in a beautiful execution of the classic drop-down/hold-on/swipe-item/get-the-hell-out-of-dodge move, the monkey dangled from one foot and snatched the omelet right out of her hands and scurried off, victorious. The vendor yelled and brandished his shoe at the fleeing criminal, but the monkey just bared his gums at him and happily devoured his breakfast. Hunting and gathering, be it in the wild or at the train station. Only here the kill is nicely cooked, spiced, and wrapped up for you.