No matter where one travels throughout life, one always needs his connections. As it so ended up that when I woke up from the pill-induced coma/sleep-a-thon on a bus heading north to the great city of Rishikesh, India. My simple-minded opinion leads me to believe that our bus driver drove like the devil, possessed like one, or simply had good luck!! Which reminds me of myself on occasions back in Mexico. (upcoming stories).
Catch up on that story The Road to Rishikesh, India to understand how this day started out afoot! Not the left or the right but at times tied together.
Being that I was a zombied out, my brain could only think of the two most important necessities while watching my friend travel groping the many Japanese girls passing bye. I would count them like counting sheep before bed.
Smoke refill was a top priority at that moment in time for we had already finished our bath in the river Gange and we’re full to the brim with fresh glacier spring fed water!
Once we stumbled out of the river, gathered our clothes from the young Indian girl tour guide, and march down the street to the tones of the Lonely Heart Band, it didn’t take us long till we found our shaman.
I simply held up my empty plastic bag in one hand and a fist full of rupees in the other.
He knew what his job was, he’d be praying to his God for the past forty-eight hours and could foresee his future as long as there was a blind tourist running about with empty bags seeking enchantment.
So we did a few poses together, exchanged some numbers, and filled each other’s bags up with green! We built a strong relationship my Shaman and from that day forward I make sure to hit him up when I’m in town. I made some good friends in this town, especially the ladies… (upcoming story)
Friendships in this town are
I have never figured out why my shirt was off, or even if started that day with one on..!
Just try to fit in.
Travel like the locals!