Self is vastly interested in anything to do with India, as that will be her first destination of 2012, in January. A former student invited her to visit, and since self feels a writer’s first duty is to experience new experiences, she accepted the invitation.
Several days ago, self began reading Will Self’s highly entertaining Psychogeography. Self must admit, she didn’t know much about the book, and expected it to be one long account of how he walked from London (cheating a bit for a plane ride across the Atlantic) to New York.
He describes one part of the walk from JFK to Manhattan as “just so fucking dull.” BWAH HA HAAA!!!
It turns out that particular walk is only one of many. On p. 83, self begins reading the essay, “The Holy City.” It begins:
I arrived in Varanasi by minibus, a stubby little eight-seater which clumped and bumped along the straight and rutted roads of Uttar Pradesh from the Nepalese border.
He hearkens back to an earlier trip, during which he “linked up with a Canadian Buddhist — the very worst kind. He propped me on the handles of his Supercomet bike and pedalled us both down to the bathing ghats. Downriver I could see smoke rising from the death barbecue: long pig griddling for breakfast.”
Will Self (Self knows this post is three times as confusing as her usual, because why did that man have to choose the same last name as SELF?) finishes up with:
All this happened twenty years ago and I’d like to say that it seems like yesterday, but it doesn’t: it seems like twenty years ago. Now I’m an older, less adventurous and less stoned man.
This is very amusing. Brother-in-law Richard informed self that one of Dear Departed Sister’s best friends was from the same province self will be visiting in January: Bihar.
“It’s the poorest province in India,” brother-in-law told self yesterday.
“But I’ll be travelling with Her Royal Highness of Bihar,” self counters.
“They still practice purdah,” brother-in-law maintains.
This gives self pause, for about half a day. Then she figures: if the price of travelling with Her Royal Highness is wearing a big white cloth over her head, so be it! Self has had to endure much worse things: such as being stuck on a Negros Navigation ship from Manila to Bacolod, with the only available toilet down the hall, and loathsome.
Besides, self will be traveling in private car. With the princess’ two younger sisters. That should provide enough material for at least 50 pages of vivid writing.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.