I’m starting to think that days off are kind of funny. They don’t really make sense. Even when people are doing a job that they love and don’t mind going to work at all, they still enjoy their days off and look forward to them. I used to think that was dumb, and that I would never be that way. Yet here I am on my day off in India, a place where every day feels like a day off, and I’m really enjoying. What the hell is wrong with me?
Every day at “work” for me is an exercise in patience. Yes, it’s work, and I do actually get some important things done, but certainly not for 8 hours a day. I break at least twice for tea, and often find myself looking for something else to do. And that’s perfectly normal. For example, most of the teachers at KLB work a 4-hour day, and they don’t even teach for the whole time. They get to work between 10 and 11 and leave at 3, but by no means do they have class during all that time. Probably half. The rest of the time they just sit on benches outside and chat with each other until it’s time to sign out. I was raised with a Midwestern work ethic and feel like a waste of space when I don’t have a part time job, so sometimes seeing these teachers do so little work really frustrates me. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Today is a school holiday, so I knew a couple of days ahead of time that I wouldn’t be coming into work. Two months ago I would have been bored out of my mind staying at home all day with nothing to do. Not anymore. I looked forward to my day off, even though work is like a day off every day anyway. So what is it that I was really looking forward to about my day off? Well, I wouldn’t have to walk several kilometers that day to get to and from work. I love walking, but a day off from that would be nice. I got some extra time to make more Monkey Balls again. I exercised. I read a book. I had tea with Mrs. Singh. I watched another one of the movies that I had purchased last week. I got a visit from Atul. And for a few moments throughout the day, I did absolutely nothing. Surprisingly, I loved it.
Man, India is really getting to me.
So are the monkeys. While having tea with Mrs. Singh, we were interrupted several times and I had to go out into the garden. Why? Because rhesus macaques were eating her vegetables and I had to scare them away. About ten times in an hour. Normally their guard dog, Hira, takes care of that, but she was in her pen while I was visiting. She doesn’t like me. She tries to bite me when I visit. Well fine, I don’t like her either. Anyway, the monkeys never learn. They’re supposed to be so damn smart, but every time I shoo them off, they just keep coming back for more. Don’t they know that I’m watching them?
When I was a kid, just like every other American boy, I always wanted a monkey as a pet. I now know that it’s the result of underexposure to them. There are no monkeys indigenous to North America, so the only time we see them are in zoos and on the Discovery Channel. And Ross had a pet monkey on Friends. Naturally, we want them around more, because what we see of them is very attractive to young boys (or immature adults, like myself): it’s a little furry person that does tricks and has fingers. What’s not to like?
Last semester I took an anthropology class that focused on primatology for part of the semester, and I loved it. I even learned about a certain species of monkey in Brazil called the capuchin monkey that I am now very fond of because it can cook. Really! Is that not the most awesome thing you’ve ever heard? Allow me to clarify. These monkeys know how to find a certain fruit from the trees and pick it only when it is ripe. Then they knock the fruit, which has a very tough exterior like a coconut, off the tree. These fruits are then collected and placed in an area exposed to the sun, where the monkeys leave them to dry several days. This makes the small seeds inside the fruit tastier. But still, the monkeys need to get to the seeds, and to do that, they bring the tough fruits to certain rocks that the monkeys have worked on for some time. These rocks have concave surfaces that make perfect work areas for opening stubborn fruits. The monkeys them slam the hard shells against these rocks over and over again, until they hit it just right, crack the shell, and unlock the deliciousness within. Now that is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. These monkeys are expending hours of work and several days of forethought just to get at a tiny piece of food, only because it tastes good. Before you know it, I’ll be working in a restaurant and be able to hire a monkey as a sous chef. They’re going to be that smart someday.
Unfortunately, my love of monkeys is only from TV and class. The truth isn’t as fun. Since coming to India, I don’t want a monkey anymore. They’re a huge pain in the butt. They steal your food, eat your crops, attack your dog, hide the remote, and generally cause a great mess of things. I can see why Charlton Heston hated them so much, but as for me, they don’t need to enslave humans to be trouble. They’re annoying enough as it is.
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