What can you do when a Japanese police officer pulls you over for speeding, when priests catch you in the bell tower of a church in Poland, or a muscle bound Latvian commando wants to smash your teeth in at an underground bar? You start speaking English! The he-doesn't-know-what he's doing rational combined with the I-don't-want-to-struggle-
The Rath Yatra festival in Puri draws up to a million pilgrims from all over India. The sight of the god Jagannath, emerging once a year from his temple for a ride, brings all the boys to the yard; and the chance to pull his whip puts them into a religious frenzy. By yanking the 220 ropes attached to the god's chariot, or even touching one, your sins are absolved. Woot! Having a questionable balance on my karmic chart made this sound like an attractive deal. Sashi, the producer of the show we were filming, also thought this a fantastic idea. I get to the ropes: Good TV! I get trampled: Also good TV! So into the human stew I push, squirm, and slide. 4 ropes means 8 sides of possibilities, right? Not so fast. One side of each rope is patrolled by cops, their special guests, and cheeky Indians who think a grab of the ropes is worth a crack from a baton.. and cracked they got.
The chariot stopped for a moment, and, unbeknown to me, the line when slack with a slight curvature in it. I pressed forward.. 5 feet of flesh to the rope, 50 feet of bodies behind me leaning their weight into reaching the prize. Then horns blew, the crowd let out a roar, and the ropes began to tighten. Our nook in the curve became a trap. The thick twine clotheslines the first row of devotees and sent the second row back like stones in a slingshot.. I saw a gap and leapt. If there was any point to the little amount of jump-roping I've done in my life this was it. The line snapped like a bowstring under my feet and I came down to the pavement on the other side. What a difference this other side. One minute I felt like a man in a mosh pit, the next thing you know it was as spacious as St. Peters in low season. What was a quest is now a cakewalk. Turning around I grabbed the rope easily. A handful of other guys made it under or over. They now put their hands alongside mine. We looked at each other with the camaraderie of accomplishment glimmering in our eyes. We did it. Then the cops came. The sound of rattan hitting someone's back made me turn. A tall wiry man in a khaki uniform had a baton lifted above my head, ready to drive its weight down onto my sorry ass. I let go of the rope and shot my hands up. "Wait! Stop!," I barked with authority, and then quickly tacked on a whoopsy shrug and a dopey smile. He froze. Then, coming to a decision with the stick still raised, gave a get-outta-here jerk of his head, and brought the baton down with fierce precision... onto the guy next to me. Whack!
The Rath Yatra festival in Puri draws up to a million pilgrims from all over India. The sight of the god Jagannath, emerging once a year from his temple for a ride, brings all the boys to the yard; and the chance to pull his whip puts them into a religious frenzy. By yanking the 220 ropes attached to the god's chariot, or even touching one, your sins are absolved. Woot! Having a questionable balance on my karmic chart made this sound like an attractive deal. Sashi, the producer of the show we were filming, also thought this a fantastic idea. I get to the ropes: Good TV! I get trampled: Also good TV! So into the human stew I push, squirm, and slide. 4 ropes means 8 sides of possibilities, right? Not so fast. One side of each rope is patrolled by cops, their special guests, and cheeky Indians who think a grab of the ropes is worth a crack from a baton.. and cracked they got.
The chariot stopped for a moment, and, unbeknown to me, the line when slack with a slight curvature in it. I pressed forward.. 5 feet of flesh to the rope, 50 feet of bodies behind me leaning their weight into reaching the prize. Then horns blew, the crowd let out a roar, and the ropes began to tighten. Our nook in the curve became a trap. The thick twine clotheslines the first row of devotees and sent the second row back like stones in a slingshot.. I saw a gap and leapt. If there was any point to the little amount of jump-roping I've done in my life this was it. The line snapped like a bowstring under my feet and I came down to the pavement on the other side. What a difference this other side. One minute I felt like a man in a mosh pit, the next thing you know it was as spacious as St. Peters in low season. What was a quest is now a cakewalk. Turning around I grabbed the rope easily. A handful of other guys made it under or over. They now put their hands alongside mine. We looked at each other with the camaraderie of accomplishment glimmering in our eyes. We did it. Then the cops came. The sound of rattan hitting someone's back made me turn. A tall wiry man in a khaki uniform had a baton lifted above my head, ready to drive its weight down onto my sorry ass. I let go of the rope and shot my hands up. "Wait! Stop!," I barked with authority, and then quickly tacked on a whoopsy shrug and a dopey smile. He froze. Then, coming to a decision with the stick still raised, gave a get-outta-here jerk of his head, and brought the baton down with fierce precision... onto the guy next to me. Whack!
Love to play the foreigner card...super effective. Do it all the time here in LA haha :)...just kidding.
ReplyDeleteHey,
ReplyDeletethis is Shardul from Mumbai, India. I have been a traveler myself. But your show and your blog makes me wanna travel further. To the extremes of my country.
"When you pay for an experience you are a tourist and when you have an even better experience you become a traveler" was one of your spoken line in the Jaggannath Yatra episode. And I was amazed by the simplicity of the whole concept but at the same time the amount of impact it had on me was tremendous.
That is the same line which made me read your amazing blog and post this comment.
Keep up the good work and keep experiencing travel the way you like it. Amazing blog! Amazing show!