Pushkar seems to attract a few of the British drop out type. There was a group of bikers; they looked like there were from the American Midwest, route 66 types. But they were British. They looked rough; life hasn’t been kind to them. You can tell by their skin, their faces, the way they carry themselves and their overall appearance. They would just sit at the café all night talking about nothing, no drinking, and lots of cigarettes. You can tell they are running away from something, hopefully nothing serious, but they are not at home in India and not at home where they came from. Nomads with faded tattoos and stringy hair. Maybe they’re all recovering alcoholics and that’s why they don’t drink? I don’t know but there is a story there. Andrew had a brief scuffle with two of them. They were sitting with this Indian woman in denim, hair down and cigarette in hand. She definitely thought she was “cool.” as usual she asked Andrew brashly “where you from, what country?” “England” he said. “I hate England” she responded. First of all I think it is very stupid to say that to anyone, just bad etiquette and not a good way to start a conversation, bitch. But Andrew can take care of himself.
“Have you been there?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know you hate it, how can you hate some place you’ve never been.”
“I just hate England, bad country.”
“Why is it bad, everything that still works in India we built. How can you think India is a great country when you’ve never been anywhere else?”
This went on for a while and the two other Brits were watching in astonishment. I had my back turned to the whole thing and found it to be very entertaining. Then one of the Brits agreed with the Indian and said “yea, England is a bad country, that’s why I’m here, India is good.” very sophisticated argumentation as you can tell. To that Andrew said, “What don’t you like about England? You’re probably in India spending money from your social benefits.” I was shocked he just said that but the man shut up and looked down, this was amazing to watch. Andrew went on to shame the two “looser” Brits for being failures to society and themselves that they have to run away and ride their bikes all over India. I couldn’t help to think that Andrew too is running away from England and is bumming around India.
There was another middle aged British man staying at Andrew’s budget accommodation. He too seemed to run away from something. He was very peculiar; I couldn’t quite get him right away. Nice guy but simple, borderline stupid even. He would walk around shirtless exposing his hairless red skin, wearing a baseball cap and would come by when Andrew was rolling a joint and say “is that good stuff?” to which Andrew replies “it’s alright, do you want some?” no, no, I never smoke, I lived in Goa for months and everyone always offered me and I said no.” yet he seemed so curious, almost like a child. This same conversation happened at least three times. The second and third times I thought it was déjà vu. Every time he would also add, “I haven’t had anything to drink in India, I don’t miss it, I don’t miss it at all.” Sounds like someone is a recovering alcoholic. I later learned from Andrew that the man divorced his wife and left her with the kids and off to Asia he went. It’s amazing how there are so many European men that seem to have that story. Usually they come to Asia live in dumpy cheap places and pick up Thai or whatever girls for sex or paid companionship. But this guy seemed to genuinely be happy to not do anything, not drink, not smoke, not have a wife and not worry about a kid. His day seemed to involve sleeping, sitting by himself, making small talk with guests at the hotel and when no one is around he will even talk to Indian guys. He was very preoccupied with finding a TV that will show world cup matches.
Walking down the street with Andrew was funny. The way he dismisses beggars, shopkeepers and anyone who approaches with the usual questions “where you from my friend?” he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge them and if they persist he would wave his wrist to signal them to go away or he would just say “fuck off.” As crude as this sounds it was the only way. They respond to this much better than to “thank you, no thank you.” I still wouldn’t really do that but it was entertaining at the time.
One evening we decided to walk around the lake and on the way we passed a “music school,” basically a little room with two instruments. Andrew walked in and started playing the harmonium. One of the guys at the school picked up the tabla and improvised. It was very hot and Thom and I really didn’t care for the jam session. Andrew plays the piano and other classical instruments. In fact he made a point of saying that he only listens to classical music because “modern music is all rubbish.” he is such a caricature of a British aristocracy, or he subconsciously agreed to become just that. Maybe this is why I was still enjoying the company because of my desperation to talk to people and because he was genuinely entertaining. I couldn’t imagine us being friendly in London or New York; I would probably think he is an asshole and walk away.
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