JUST WHEN YOU THINK IT'S SAFE . . .

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?
- Alice in Dragoland redux

********** NEWS FLASH **********

RAZ CROSSES STATE LINE TODAY

PASSENGERS NO LONGER IN VORTEX OF INSANITY

********** NEWS FLASH **********

With two exceptions (the massive bedbug infestation in my room only - which makes me look like I have some hideous pox on both arms and the right side of my face - and a horrible bug bite that has swollen Sharon's right eye to Quasimodo proportions), Puri passed without noticeable incident after the dinner meltdown at Wildgrass. Apologies/flowers/hugs were offered and accepted, and remaining dinners were spent eating in hotel room sans drivers.

• The whole group REALLY needed some downtime and space, and Puri was the perfect place. Fantastic food, low-pressure shopping, passable mani/pedi with superb massage elements, trip to Sun God temple at Konark, easy bar restocking . . .
• Three of the group opted to stay an extra night and take the train to Calcutta. I was not one of them. Why waste one last chance to experience unbelievable levels of madness in Orissa? Why? WHY??Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?????
• The day started off perfectly fine. Made good time, people were relaxed and happy for the most part, food for bush camping already purchased, refrigerator stocked and rum supply laid in and started looking for a campsite around 3:00PM. Yay! Time to set up tents, write in our journals, take naps, read . . . some pleasant leisure time before cooking & cocktails & the ever-popular cleanup process.
• We drive and drive, down narrow roads that turn into NO roads and necessitate several tricky turnarounds and near-misses with low-hanging wires. We find a couple of spots that look like they might work, but then realize there are people and/or houses everywhere. We pull onto a tree-lined dirt road and slowly troll for sites. We pass by a wooded spot where there are ropes with people/animal figurines hanging from them and make many Blair Witch-type jokes. We choose a campsite just down the road from this and start setting up around 5:30PM.
• We eat cream of mushroom soup, sweet corn, fried potatoes and grilled cheese sandwiches. We drink beer and rum. We are finishing the dishes and trying to get the fire going and saying what a great camp it is and how easy it is with only eight people. Then it begins.
• A group of policemen & locals show up and tell us we have to move. IMMEDIATELY. They tell us we are in danger, mention tribesmen and make gestures like we will be hung from the trees. Also that we did not register to camp and can't do it after the fact. We can not pay for a permit. We can not bribe them because they are led by a hardcore woman who is having none if it (the only female apart from us passengers). We have to move. IMMEDIATELY. We break down camp in the dark and in record time. The five females leave toilet paper in the woods as retaliation.
• We then get a police escort to the police station, which is pitch black and ominous looking. Adam disappears with the police. Steve is left to guard the truck and its contents (aka, us). The passengers begin to drink heavily. Steve begins his long night of solo babysitting. Steve & Nic take a ciggie break and have their pictures taken by two different newspapers, who promise they will be front cover news today. (They are not.) Adam finally returns around an hour later and we begin the journey to find a hotel. It is now approximately 8:30PM.
• The passengers drink and shout and laugh raucously and play loud music and sing along at the tops of their lungs while Steve drives and Adam is on his cell trying to find a place for us to stay. There will be no more bush camping this night, it's hotel time. He finds a place in Pantha Nivas, Chandipur-By-Sea. We drive off into the night and into a town. We look out at the locals with our scary blood red (me) and massively swollen (Sharon) eyes. We find ourselves behind a festival that consists of huge crowds of men either a) pulling giant lighted temples, or b) fighting each other with long and heavy wooden sticks. We can not pass them. We are stuck. We stop the truck to wait it out.
• Adam decides to walk to the hotel to clear everything there and he takes Darren with him. Leaving Steve to guard the truck and its now drunk contents (aka, us). Most of us go to sleep (aka, pass out). We awake two hours later. Adam has returned. On a bicycle. Darren is outside in the madness with the bicycle. We get a second wind and decide it would be a GREAT idea to venture out and participate in the festival. Things are a little hazy here, but I am suddenly on the back of a motorcycle with a drunken Muslim man. We ride into the thick of the festival. I am allowed to look at the statutes hidden within the giant lighted temples. Apparently I am gone approximately 20-25 minutes, but it doesn't seem that long. I'm having the time of my life!
• When I get back to the truck, Nic & Darren & I decide we need to join the crowds and stick-fighting men. What a great idea! Nic is barefoot. Darren still has the bike. We are drunk. We are dancing. We are yelling. We are pumping our fists in the air! It's a Muslim, stick-fighting rave! There is a giant festival with women & children & lights & music! It is wild! We want to stay there forever! Steve does not want us to stay forever. He hates us. He is repulsed by us. He no longer wants to babysit us, if indeed he ever did (which is most certainly debatable).
• He tries to convince us to get back on the truck. We don't want to! It is close to 1AM! Where has all the time gone?!? Steve convincingly tells us we can come back if we want to, but we HAVE to get in the truck and go to the hotel. Which we finally do, with great reluctance. Except for Darren. He is riding his bike into the darkness, leading us to the hotel. He wobbles crazily. His knees stick out at strange angles. He somehow remembers where the hotel is and we arrive safely. He's our hero. Nay, he is a LEGEND.
• We get two large rooms, one for the boys and one for the girls. Except for Bernadette, who has NOT been drinking. And who has been completely freaked out by this night and her whole experience to date. (She just joined in Chennai.) She stays on the truck, secure & locked in. She does not emerge until morning so she misses Nic & I singing most of the soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar at 1:30AM in our hotel room. Victoria & Sharon are not amused, but they are good sports because they have been drinking gin all night.
• We wake up bright & early this morning for an 8:45AM departure. We don't actually leave, however, until after 10AM because we have to - for some unknown reason - give them our passports to photocopy and meticulously fill out individual carbon-copy registration forms. We do this while feet away from one of the ubiquitous mangy dogs. Only this one is licking at something frantically. Which appears to be the place where his testicles used to be. Note the words "used to be." There is now a gaping wound. It's disgusting, but hard to look away. How did this happen? No one else notices or cares. We want to put it out of its misery, but don't have a way to do so. It's horrible. It's grisly. It's mystifying. It's humbling. It's fascinating. It's Alice in India.