The Camel Ride

The morning started very badly. Pat woke not feeling well again. Evan was cranky and Eli bumped his head. A curtain of misery descended on the house. Each in our own way, we were feeling sad and homesick. It seemed the honeymoon was over. Thankfully, however, our funk was nothing that food and rest couldn't cure. By the afternoon we slowly began picking ourselves up out of the mire we were all wallowing in. It started with some good old-fashioned “angry music” (as Pat likes to call it). We turned on some Ani DiFranco, comforted by something distinctly western and befitting of our mood. We sang along and danced like fools reliving memories associated with each song: “Remember when we were driving to New Foundland and we met that weird guy…?” “Remember that crazy hike…?” Even Evan got in on the fun and danced along as we all played ball together. Memories lead to daydreams about the comforts of home: Sal’s Pizza, Starbucks coffee, pho with chicken, fresh air, autumn leaves, fresh apples… I could go on and on. Our day dreaming quickly turned to laughter about the frustrating parts of India – unsafe food and water topping the list. And then the camels arrived.

From our backdoor I spotted them lumbering up the street. Excitement ensued as we rushed to find wallet, camera and shoes so we could go for a ride. Since we are white and obviously made of money (another frustrating aspect of India) the camel boy wanted to charge us five times as much as everyone else. After some serious haggling the camel boy relented and Evan went for his first camel ride with Verajita. I was afraid he would be scared and cry to get down – instead he screamed with delight and ended up having the time of his life.

While Evan rode the camel I ventured to Sudha’s house. She was making an Indian sweet that she wanted to teach me to prepare. We talked and laughed and cooked and learned and ate the sweets. Then she made savory treats and we ate some more. As we snacked, I suddenly became aware of my own happiness and the fun I was having. Hours before I had been pining for the comforts of home. But now, enveloped by friendship and food I realized that this journey would end all too soon. Sal’s Pizza will wait for me and autumn in New England will come again next year. But the joy of riding camels and learning to cook in Sudha’s kitchen will pass far too quickly into happy memories.