I like being naked! There I have said it! I LIKE BEING NAKED! There said it again! It is something that has crept up on me over the years. It started when I was a teenager and finally got a room of my own after sharing with my sister for years. I would wander around freely without a care in the world, doing small tasks. It has continued like this since. I rarely shut the curtains, in fact I didn't even have curtains for 5 years in Hackney Wick. Sometimes when I knew no was home and very unlikely to come back I would wander to the fridge or bathroom naked, being mindful to duck incase anyone would past the communal balcony window. I found it very liberating. I never got caught and I never told anyone. It's funny as I get older how much more at ease with my body I am, even though things aren't as firm as they were and lines appear from nowhere. I believe it's a good trait to have. Everyone should be happy naked.
Getting naked was a thing I couldn't stop thinking about recently much to the horror of Lauren. Too be fair it's been through out the whole of India that I have been parading around naked in front of her, even up north when it was cold. Lauren is the total opposite. She gets changed under a towel like some Victorian lady, even when no one is in the room! Kerala though, is where it became worse. It was way too hot for clothes. As soon as I got through the door to our room I would strip off completely. I would take cold showers but as soon as she had dried off you were hot again. Being naked was the only option. I'd unpack naked; I'd read naked; I'd sleep naked; and just to piss Lauren off, I'd do some star jumps and lunges naked as well! This totally freaked her out as she started shouting, "Your my boss. How can I ever take you seriously again. Put some clothes on you crazy hippy!"
For me it was a revelation: she had actually taken me seriously had some point in our working lives. Well that's a first!
During our time in Kerala, we decided to stay in Fort Cochin. I've stayed there before and it's about as chilled and as civil as India gets. In Cochin the main source of accommodation is home stays, where you live in an Indian family's house with them. Me and my friend Becky had stayed in one on our last visit. They use to wheel the deaf and blind granny out on the porch all day; the son would perve at us from a far and the dad ripped us off so I slammed the taxi door on him when we left. So all in all not very successful? I told myself that this time would be better. We arrived at our home stay to find the mother who didn't really speak any English and who ushered us to our room. From what I could figure she's said that her daughter was busy and would see us soon. A couple of hours later I pretty young India girl knocks on our door. It's the daughter.
"I'm sooooooooo sorry, I was not here to greet you ja. My father was very angry. He find that he has a big tax bill and there is no money in the bank account. He blame me everything. He scream and shout. Say I'm bad, stupid daughter and I cry. My father very scary man"
"Oh! That's OK!" I say, trying to take on board this influx of personal information.
I feel like we have just walked into India's version of the Jeremy Kyle show! Great!
The next day we decide to book the obligatory boat trip and get onwards tickets to Goa. We decide to try and book through our home stay as I've had enough of Indian ticket halls, with standing in the wrong queue and then being told I've put the wrong train number on the bloody form. We find the daughter.
"Come" she says "You must speak with my father." She leads us into the living room, where I am presented with India's version of Jabba the hut! The father lets just say is a big man. No in fact he's huge, and just sat there on the sofa in a pair of tight polyester slacks, in a silk shirt which is unbuttoned to the waist so that we can see everything! On his fat fingers he wears too many gold rings. We sit down and I start to speak. The father continues to munch away on nuts. During the conversation I address the daughter about another nights stay. She quickly motions me to address her father about such matters. She is clearly petrified of the man and no wonder. Apart from being huge he's a big bully as well. I ask about train tickets.
"It's a long hot journey, so we want 1st, 2nd or third class at a push I tell him."
It's also Lauren's birthday that day, so I want to make the journey as nice as possible. I hand him 3000 rupees which is more than enough.
The next day I go to ask about the train tickets, but the father is not around. The daughter tells me it will be fine. The day after that, I go to find him again, but I'm told he is asleep and must not be disturbed. It's the day of travel and we still have no tickets! I'm angry and I grab Lauren and am determined to get some answers. I knock on the living room to find Jabba just in his lungi (an Indian sarong)! I think it's too early in the morning for this sight but press on anyway. The father is all smiles.
"Yes my daughter said you ask and worry about tickets, but no worry. I have for you."
He passes me the tickets. I look at them. They are sleeper class! The worst class of all!
"They more expensive because I have to charge commission" he smiles, "So they 2,600 rupees."
"Expensive! Expensive!" I think "God dam rip off more like! and for shit class. What a bastard!"
"So you owe me 600 rupees" he continues.
"No we don't we gave you 3000" I say.
"No madam you gave me 2000."
"No we definitely gave you 3000" and then that's when I see it. His face changes the smile has gone and is replaced by evil anger.
"Are you calling me a liar Madam! And in my own house!"
I'm scared now but remain clam.
"No Sir. I'm not calling you a liar. I'm just saying your mistaken."
"You gave me 2000, and that is the end."
Now those of you that know me well, know I'm not one to back down and I'd normally press the point, but I'm thinking, this guy could probably kill me with one flick of his fat wrist. I sat there with the image of my gravestone going through my head:
"Here lies Carly Griffith, sadly crushed to death by Jabba the Hut!"
"Yes maybe I am mistaken" I reply.
He claps his hands together and smiles "Good! We are all settled then!" He waves off to the door.
"You must come and stay again" he beams.
"Yes we will" I say through gritted teeth, but what is really going on in my head is this:
"You fat Jabba the hut Bastard! You rot in Hell! You will pay for this. The next time you see Carly Griffith, you will wish you have never been born! Ha Ha Ha Ha HA!!!!"
I am quite aware that I will never see this man again, but at the time these thoughts gave me some hope in life.
So it's Lauren's birthday. I had promised her some exotic beach, with cocktails or some magical hotel in some ancient city. In reality we are sat in a rust bucket train in the worst class possible, with no air con, in 40 degree heat, on wooden benches; about to start a 16 hour journey all because of Jabba! Lauren looks fed up.
"What a great birthday this is" she moans. I'm feeling guilty, so I do my best to make things better.
"It's not that bad" I say "Things could be worse." I pause at this moment as I can't think of anything worse. Lauren looks unimpressed and returns to reading her book. I decide to do the same as its too hot to talk.
About hour into the journey and sweating my arse off, I'm lay on our bench when I look around from my book to find an Indian woman sat right next to my head. I sit up straight away and I'm confused by her close proximity due to the emptiness of the train. Within a minute she is joined by another woman and then another. Within five minutes our benches are taken up by a load of Indian women. Me and Lauren look at each other.
"What the Hell!"
The next thing three young Indian girls run up and squash themselves next to Lauren and me.
"What is your names?
"What country?"
The oldest girl continues.
"This is my family, they want to meet you. They speak no English so I will translate. We are just back from my sisters wedding. Meet the family."
The next thing I know we are introduced to aunties, cousins, sisters, wives. Then the men arrive and it's all uncles, husbands, my mothers, brothers, sisters husband! Now I don't know what the world record is for the amount of people you can fit in a train compartment but I think we must have been close. Lauren looks totally in shock. I know what to do;
"Hey everyone it's my friends birthday today."
This is meet with cheers of excitement. Lauren throws me a look like she might kill me.
The next thing the whole family start singing Happy Birthday and the rest of the train carriage join in. Lauren goes red. The girl looks excited.
"It's your birthday. You must have a present!"
"Oh! No it's fine. You don't have to give me a present" says Lauren, but before she has finished, the girl is pulling a box from out her bag. She opens it and it is full of jewellery.
"I give you earrings. Yes! Earrings" she says.
"No I real can't!" Says Lauren looking extremely uncomfortable, but the girl and her whole family are having none of it.
"You must wear earrings!"
"No. No. No. I'm fine" says a scared Lauren.
"You must Lauren" I laugh as I'm the whole situation entirely amusing.
So there on a train, with 20 pair of eyes staring at her, Lauren Kilcar received the most interesting birthday gift ever, which included the repiercing of ears by a 15 year old Indian girl. Lauren smiled her way through the pain.
"Now you must have earrings too!"
Shit!!!! And before I could say anything I'm having my ears pushed through with the kind of cheap metal that erodes your skin (which it did)! I'm was sat there thinking I was being punished for laughing at Lauren's misfortune. Lesson learnt: Do not laugh at others misfortune! It will only come back and bite you on the ass!
We spent the next God knows how many hours being fed Indian snacks, chicken biryani, chai tea and being asked ever question about ourselves humanly possible. As exhausting as it was, I felt a tinge of sadness when our Indian family (all a 100 of them?) finally departed. I know it's sounds corny but these people who have nothing in comparison to us, give everything they can to us, including kindness to complete strangers. I thought the world would be a better place with more people like them.
Our train rolled into Margo, Goa at 3am. We were exhausted; we smelt; and we were filthy. I turned to Lauren.
"Well Lauren, no matter what you think about today. There is one thing for sure: You are never going to have a birthday like that one again!"
Next stop Goa.
