from jack...
I say “holy cow!” a lot in the States. It often gets me into trouble here in India because cows are actually revered as holy animals, but whatever your favorite exclamation or interjection may be, an open Indian market will conjure it from your lips in a big way. Picture 90% of the people on the planet (or at least it feels that way) all crammed into a broom closet (or at least it feels that way) with enough livestock and other sundry goods (vegetables, fish, carpentry tools, you name it) to make the St. Joe county fair look like little more than a Speedway. Ensure that all those livestock are lowing, clucking and bleating constantly, while simultaneously pooping, peeing and snorting all over everything within proximity. Add a solid ¼” of said animal waste on the ground as you tiptoe through it all like a Bolshoi ballerina while trying not to slip on any of it and land face-first in what could only be described as something you would need years of counseling to re-right. Stir with copious amounts of human shouting, negotiating and purchasing amidst the cacophony of engine noise and garbled bargaining. Finish with a dash of the smell of cooking food and car exhaust, plus 100 degree heat made amplified by the body temperature of all the organisms in the vicinity and you’ll probably have some idea of the “finished product” we walked through to purchase a grand total of 18 goats (15 female, 3 male, with 8 of the females currently pregnant). It was a wild ride, to be sure!
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