The Surrender Project: Day 18: Mutton BBQ

If you have read any of my previous three or four blogs you could probably guess exactly how my morning and early afternoon went. If you guessed wake up, meditation, slowly get ready, breakfast at the same spot (I am a freak I know), back to hostel, take care of a few things, and write blog from previous day, you would be spot on. This is exactly how my day started and went until about 4:00. I am going to skip over the details and little differences for today, but there are a few thoughts that I would be remiss not to point out.

This was my second official unofficial break from Instagram. Again, it is not even a break, merely a conscious awareness to spend less than 10 minutes a day on the app. I made a point yesterday about it potentially being harder for a solo traveler to not use social media than it would be for any person back home. I am not sure if I can provide any type of proof or draw any conclusions to this thought, but I can speak about my position right now. When I woke up this morning I saw my phone dangling from the wall. Yes, the only outlet in my room is halfway up the wall with nothing beneath it, so when I say I saw my phone dangling I quite literally see it hovering about three feet off of the ground connected to the magnetic back-charger. There almost seems to be an energy that is drawing me into it. There is a lot of power in my phone being that it is the only thing I have to feel connected to everything and anything I know. It is my only tool to still have a connection to my family, friends, and everything that I consider to know back home. It is almost like it taunts me from its position dangling on the wall, reminding me that I am in a country if 1.5 billion people and barely know anybody. The only people I do know are friendships merely a few days old. It is the thing that can ground me to the reality that I know and love back home. Maybe that is the reason why I am trying to minimize my use of it, to keep pushing into this unknown piece of traveling, to find new ways to get uncomfortable. Maybe that is what this whole project and time here is going to teach me, to continue to strengthen my relationship with myself. To be more and more comfortable with who I am, while it forces me to dive into myself and uncover new ideas and values. I feel like I have read something along those lines before, that you need to prioritize the relationship with yourself, for if that isn’t in an incredibly healthy spot it will be hard to build relationships with others to the deepest level that they can go. I feel confident in all the work that I have done in improving the relationship with myself. It has to be some of the most rewarding work I have ever done, I mean it benefits every part of my life. I am not going to dig into this self-love journey yet, this is deep vulnerability to a level I haven’t explored sharing publicly, so I am going to see if there is value in sharing that before I do. Somethings might be better unsaid, or to a specific few. Anyway, if I know one thing it is that I adore deep relationships. I want to challenge the intensity and depth that two strangers can go to with each other. That thought is always crazy to me, that our best friends and longterm partners were once complete strangers. That they happened to come into our lives in a random way, and for some reason we connected with them in ways that are unexplainable. To get to know a stranger so well that they become your best friend or your love is a magnificent thing. It feels larger than life in a way. The ability to love and to even get to the point of love is such a gift in and of itself. I am not sure how I got to this point, but I think it is important to note that the energy of my writing oftentimes is coming from where I am mentally a day later, not in the moment of my stories. I am writing this on day 19, so let me see if I can tap back into some of the energy from day 18 to reflect what this day was to me.

I tapped into that high buzzing energy again today. I will not go into the details again, but you can probably feel it in the latter half of my writing from yesterday, a lot of mentions of gratitude and beauty of life. After I wrap up the writing I change and freshen up, putting on this new perfume scent that my friend gave me. It has a bit of vanilla, and also some like classic old spice smell? It isn’t bad at all, and it was a gift. Normally I am not a huge scent guy. When in India I guess. I then head out, planning on meeting up with my friend to get ready for a BBQ. All I know is that I am meeting him at a spot about two miles from my place at 5:00, and that there is going to be a BBQ. I have no idea what a BBQ means here, as it could be a range of things. I walk again, this time seeing if luck will bring me any more motorbikes to hitch a ride on. No such luck, but a brisk two or so mile walk feels invigorating after sitting and writing for the previous four hours. That is something I want to take into my life when I get home, more walks. It is so easy to walk out your front door and just walk, it doesn’t have to be a planned route, preferably not, actually, and just walk and smell the flowers, look at the trees, see kids playing, listen to birds, and anything else you might encounter on your walk. Anyway, I get to him and once again we are T to B with three of us on the moped. The first stop isn’t far, and we hop off after maybe two minutes pulling up to a butcher shop. Now, this might be a bit different than the butcher shops you are used to seeing back home. See my reel on Instagram for an idea. But this is fresh meat. Like the guy is actively butchering an animal and cutting off pieces to give you, in this case mutton. There are a pile of animal pelts sitting on the street from previously butchered animals (not pictured). The guy is barefoot, he has one knife in-between his toes, a circle wooden cutting board, and a big knife he uses to chop through bones and whatever else he needs to. There is a crowd of men standing around it, waiting their turn to get the meat. This is also not in a shop, but a few feet off of a street on a platform. The street actively has live cattle roaming around, poop, garbage, animal pelts, more garbage, and who knows what else a few feet away. It doesn’t exactly strike me as sanitary. Oh, and across the 15 foot wide street is a truck unloading goats and sheep into a house. Ever heard a goat or sheep scream as it is getting yanked on a rope to it’s impending death? Yeah, it isn’t the most pleasant sound, doesn’t exactly make me hungry to dive into this mutton that was just chopped with a bloody toe-knife. Not much I can do in this situation, so we pay 1,000 rupees for 3.5 pounds of mutton and hop back on the moped. Next stop: vegetables. This one isn’t too bad, as the vegetables are not audibly screaming from a few feet away. We pick out a few tomatoes, onions, spicy green peppers, and limes from a wooden cart about 2 feet by 4 feet and hop back on the moped. We drive for a few minutes this time, eventually getting off the busy streets and into some side alleys. Why they chose this shop in particular I have no idea, but I do know that we are in an area I wouldn’t have found in a million years. It is down alleyways that are barely big enough for one scooter to drive through, with doors here and there, or other alleyways cutting off randomly in different directions. Eventually we pull into this little 25’ by 40’ clearing that feels like a courtyard to a few houses all connected. The shop has a window you walk up to and order from. This is where we order yogurt, spices, and a few other bags of things I do not recognize. Oh, and always a cigarette or two for the guys. This takes a bit of time to get ready, so I just sit and look around, maybe in a place where they do not see many tourists wander into. Hey, all for the experience. People are watching me from windows two stories up, and pop their heads back inside when I notice them. Ingredients secured, we hop back on and wander through the tight alleys, eventually back on a main road. We drive for a bit before getting off next to a car, that turns out to be his friend. We all hop in and take off. Again, I want you to try and put yourself in my shoes a bit here. I am invited to a BBQ by a random guy I met on the street, and who have known for a total of a few hours. I know nothing else, I am with three guys and only one speaks English on any type of conversational level. Meaning, 95% of the time English is not being spoken. I have absolutely no clue where we are going or what BBQ even means. Back to the story. We start driving through streets, me being quiet in the backseat because what the fuck am I even supposed to say anyway? At one point my friend realizes I haven’t spoken for ten minutes and asks if I am alright. I say of course, just trying to soak in this experience a bit, because it isn’t everyday you find yourself in this position, in the backseat of a smoke filled car heading god knows where to make a dinner out of fresh food we just bought. Anyway, we keep driving and my friend asks if I like hash. I tell him I haven’t done it but I know what it is, it is similar to weed. At this point we are basically driving in the countryside and in my head I am thinking maybe we are just driving out of town to smoke? I don’t know. Then the guy next to me starts rolling a joint with tobacco and some hash mixed in. Hash is like a gummy concentrate. I rack my brain for what exactly hash is, and come up with the conclusion that it is like weed but just way weaker, almost like CBD. So, when they ask if I want to take a hit I say sure, I will take a puff. Nothing really happens so when it comes back to me I hit it two more times, again just thinking I am going to get a lil CBD buzz. Turns out it isn’t like CBD, but a stronger more concentrated THC, the psychoactive chemical in weed. Hmm, this should be interesting as I don’t smoke anymore. We arrive at the spot, which is like a concrete gated field where there are a few parties of people. We walk in, and keep in mind I am blazed at this point, and my friend tells me to sit and wait, as he is going to go pray quick. The other two guys are nowhere to be found. So here I am, absolutely torched, sitting on a bench in this field area where there is a tiny mosque to pray and in perfect view of about 30 people. Now, the reason I no longer smoke is because it tends to make me a bit anxious. Just thought that would be a fun little fact to point out before we go further. I am unsure of what to do, and am overthinking everything. As mentioned many times before I tend to draw attention from others, especially when I am in this hangout field area with a mosque and a bunch of presumably muslims who probably have never seen a white dude here before. So, every direction I look I notice people looking over at me. This makes me second guess what I am doing with my posture and sitting position, naturally, because why wouldn’t you second guess that?? I end up crossing my ankle over my left leg in the classic seated position, and then taking my left arm and draping it over the back of the bench, doing my best to give off nonchalant vibes. Inside, I am anything but nonchalant. Pretty quickly this position no longer feels right so I switch sides, crossing my legs the other way and putting my right arm over the back of the bench. I glance around, sending head nods with what feels like the fakest smile I have ever worn to all the guys I make eye contact with. Jeez, where the fuck are these guys? What felt like forever, the other two guys come up and tell me to come with them, thank god for any reason to do something. These two guys are also noticeably high, but my friend didn’t smoke yet. They also speak maybe 20 words of English, so this isn’t exactly a social group as we walk across this field to find a spot. Then me and one of the guys walk back to the entrance point where they have a small building, I think we are supposed to rent BBQ utensils here. However, there isn’t anybody here working right now because I think they are praying as well. So, me and this guy just stand next to each other on the steps to this building and look out over the field. I can feel this guys awkwardness radiating off of my awkwardness about what we are supposed to do. We start to talk, well sort of. He says like two words and I respond way too quickly without understanding a thing he said, “ohhh okay yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.” “Why the fuck did I just say yeah five times?!” I look over at him, and he is just looking at me with a confused look, so holding his gaze I just go, “what did you say?” Trying to talk really slow so he can understand. It probably came out like “WhAt… DIDD… yoUUU, SAYYY…?” With longer pauses and extended pronunciations. He pauses, obviously translating in his head, and responds with a few words that I again am struggling to understand. Did he say drive? Once again, in my anxious high state and having no idea what is going on I go, “ohhh yeah yeah yeah yeah.” Like what the fuck Henry?! Stop saying yeah so many times! Without this going anywhere I rack my brain for questions to ask him, obviously not coming up with a ton of results. We eventually resort to just showing each other pictures on our phones. Well, he was showing me pictures. The thing about Indian men is that they also really value being photographed. So, the pictures of places he is showing me is really just pictures of him standing in front of buildings and what not. I keep saying “ohh nice nice nice” or “okay okay okay” and repeating one word every sentence. This guy would think I was bugging out if he wasn’t also baked talking to a random stranger from the U.S. on the steps of a building we cannot access. Thankfully prayer ends around this time and my friend comes over to help. We eventually get into the closet and get out what we need. A huge pot, a cylinder fire thing to start the fire and keep the coals, a few large plates, and a massive spoon. We head over and start the cooking process, laying out a blanket on the ground where the four of us were going to eat. They are mostly talking in their native language, with me just sitting there trying to soak in the moment and also still thinking about what I am supposed to be doing with my hands. The thought definitely popped up a few times, “what am I doing here?” I am with three dudes sitting cross legged on a blanket in the dirt with a huge pot and ladle next to us, cooking mutton. Like how did my life take me to this point? So strange yet so freaking cool. Most of the time I am just sitting there, pretending to listen to their conversation but I do not have any idea what they are saying obviously. Once everything is in the pot my friend takes out his phone and puts on a cricket game, resting it against a water bottle on the blanket so we can all watch. This is nice, an excuse to focus on something and not think of random questions to ask my friend, like I was doing before. A minute goes by before I realize I am at a cookout BBQ with a couple of stoners. We are literally huddled around a phone watching a cricket game! I laugh to myself at the realization. Like this is exactly what it would be like if you were home and found a group of a few stoners who wanted to cook outside. It was hilarious to me, and helped me settle in a bit. The high was wearing off a little bit as well. Then my friend tells me that I should go with the other guy, the guy who I had a “conversation” with on top of the stairs earlier. We need to go find chapati and roti. We only have a car so we ask the group next to us if they have a scooter we could use, and they just throw us their keys. I ask my friend if he knows them, and he says no, just that we need a scooter. That was pretty cool to see. Well, I hop on the back and off we go to find some roti. It is already borderline cold outside, and I am wearing a T shirt and a very lightweight sweatshirt, it is 58 degrees. When it is that temperature and you’re on a scooter going 50 KPH, it feels freezing. My eyes are watering as we are driving, and driving, and driving. How far are we going for bread? Eventually pull off at this spot to get some chapati, about a ten minute drive. It takes a few minutes and then we are on our way, passing the BBQ spot and driving another ten minutes the other way to get roti. This roti spot was churning out the roti, they had four guys nonstop moving to make these things, with a never-ending-line waiting for the fresh doughy goodness. Thankfully, it was quite warm, so I held it against my stomach on the way back, borderline hot honestly. I cannot express how good that felt, it was so cold, and this burning hot pieces of roti pressed against my chest, threatening to burn me but not quite hot enough. It warmed up my soul. It was a beautiful drive back, with there being a massive orange moon on the horizon watching over us. After what turned out to be a 40 minute expedition, we returned to the mutton almost being ready to eat. We all sat around in a circle around two big plates that the mutton stew was dumped on, and using roti and chapati we ate until we were full. It was quite delectable I must say. They kept insisting I have one more piece, wanting to ensure I was full. After eating we packed up, returned the things, hopped back in the car, and headed back into town, about a 25 minute drive. They invited me to go get some chai and hangout for a while longer, but it was 10:00 and my gut was telling me it was time to go home. I got an Uber motorbike for 40 rupees ($0.47) to take me the 5.5 kilometers back to my spot to wrap up a few things and call it a night.

It is challenging to tell a story like this. To provide a level of emotion that I feel throughout this process. As detailed as I felt I was, there is still so much that gets missed out on. Maybe some of the feelings of sitting silent for 15 minutes and just watching these guys talk and do their thing. When my friend asks if I am okay, I have to tell him that this is a story I will be telling people for the rest of my life. That what feels like a somewhat normal day to you is an all-time adventure for me. Or the different thoughts going through my head as we get into a random dudes car, one of their friends, and just start driving for half an hour. Like I have no clue where we are going at all, I am with a few strangers in a country so freaking far from anybody I know, but you just go with it. The feelings and thoughts that arise in these moments are a mixture of intense gratitude, a bit of fear, a sense of surreality, humor, and just the feeling of what the fuck am I doing. A combination of feelings I wouldn’t be able to recreate elsewhere. I cannot pick a more random thing to do in this place, a random place to me at the end of the day. So many things I want to express, or convey the wild feelings that this type of thing brings up. Overall, immensely grateful for an experience like this, with these random dudes in Jaipur. These are the adventures and the stories I am seeking out, the randomness that you cannot plan. It isn’t possible to book an excursion like this online, it just has to happen randomly. These are the moments from traveling that make it all worth it, and change your perspective on things. These are the memories and stories that you cannot dream up or plan for in anyway. Grateful for another wonderful day during this project.