Stuff I Talk About

by Christina Ledbetter

Stuff I Saw and Decisions I’ve Made

We ran errands one day last week. You know, like when you go to Target? HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAH! (Imagine that’s a funny laugh that goes on for so long it gets awkward, and then you realize it’s a crazy laugh and maybe you should find your purse and leave.)

Stuff I Witnessed While Running Errands:

  • A cluster of men in white, walking down the crowded, Mumbai street CARRYING A DEAD BODY over their heads on a bamboo gurney. (There was a sheet over it, but still.) “Is that…” I stammered. Benson nodded.
  • Two children swatting each other on a bridge, laughing. Their free hands are filled with flowers they attempt to sell to passersby. Like a watercooler moment. But not like that at all.
  • A man with no arms, knocking his elbow nubs on our car window. I heard the knocking and thought Benson was trying to get my attention. I looked over and gasped when I saw a coffee brown face filling the glass, cloths tied in knots atop his head (and just so we’re clear, not like how I wear hair scarves), just bump bumping away with his elbows.
  • Men squatting on the sidewalk weaving bamboo window shades by hand. It’s the same style I have in my home in Houston. So that’s where they begin their life, I think.
  • Two mattresses pushed together on top of some boxes under a bridge. Fabric strung on one side for partial privacy.
  • A river of garbage. A literal river of garbage.

Life Decisions I Have Made Recently Regarding the Purchase and Consumption of Food:

  • I will not purchase Rice Krispies in India. I found a box in a luxury grocery store and kind of shrieked. Like if you’re at the hospital visiting your aunt and you bump into a friend in the hallway who’s visiting someone else and it’s like, “What are YOU doing here?!” I picked up the box and wondered how those poor Rice Krispie men are faring in this bustling land. Then I checked the price and saw that they were twelve dollars (somebody’s gotten a bit uppity, haven’t they?).
  • I will continue to spend exorbitant amounts of rupees on good avocados when I find them, which isn’t often. I snatched one up last week though at that same store with the cereal. I stretched it to five meals and each time I take a bite I feel like a king. I told one of my neighbors about how good it was when I saw her at the gym today. She sat on a mat, stretching to touch her toes. “What does an avocado taste like?” she asked. “Like a pineapple?” I shook my head in pity and told her that the next time I buy an avocado, I’ll have her over so she can taste it.
  • I will not pretend to enjoy traditional Indian sweets anymore. I WILL NOT. I feel really good about this decision. Sunday after church this guy tried pushing some orange sticky ball sweets on me three times and I just kept shaking my head. I will live here. I will be kind. I will worship Jesus. But I will not eat Indian sweets. They’re gross and I hate them.

Other Updates:

  • Three men showed up at our apartment and fixed our leak!
  • Monsoon rains are fading. For the past few days there’s been more sunshine than clouds.
  • I started taking a pilates class. I really don’t get it at all, but the people are nice, so I guess I’ll keep going.

Scenes from the week:

Know what this meal tasted like? Victory.

Categories: India

4 replies

  1. Those sticky ball sweets have a name- they’re called moti chur laddoos. My daughter is climbing on the table using my shoulders as support, as i type. Byeee

  2. I have a question. You helped Eddie Love with the book the saints, sinners and Eddie. Why is his name Love and not Lovelace?

  3. You will find the answer in the book 😉

    • I read the book today after receiving it also today. I lived in Orange from 1970 to 1973. Eddie was my boyfriend at that time. His name was Edwin Tolliferro Lovelace IV.

Talk to Me Here

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s