ten things seventeen

1.  stockholm { Patti Hearst standing in the lobby of a bank holding an assault rifle screaming "I'm Tania!" } syndrome             

  in { turnin me every way but loose and now I wear lungis and bobble my head } dia

2.  I know that gender is a social construction and I'm as down with Simon de Beauvoir as the next guy, but that indian tv show in which men and their very young sons dress up in gold lame' minis and compete with other men and their sons (also wearing minis) in a lip-synch and dance competition has shaken something at the core of me.  I don't think it's necessarily the costumes or general lack of skill, or even the faint whiff of pedo.  I think it's the injustice of it.  The best team never wins.  It's always the team with the shortest skirts and most lascivious gyrations.

3.
incense sticks <
pots of smoke <
hand-held torch <
tree of fire <
great cobra headed fire pot <
orange carnation <
white feather duster.

4.  as i leave:  the chill of wet sandlewood paste on my forehead; the taste of holy water from the ganga on my tongue - 100% pure, save the 1.5 million faecal coliform bacteria/100ml

5.  saffron, gold

6.  things i say now that i will not miss, but might secretly miss later:
     curry for breakfast
     haggling over nickels
     middle aged men expecting me to be totally ok with holding hands with them
     milk tea
    
     telling people my 'good name'
     being exotic

7.
    

8.  i feel as though number 6 (part 3) warrants an explanation.  in india men touch each other in ways that are not encouraged in american society.  basically anything just this side of first base is totally ok, and i have it on good authority that in some rural areas anything up to second is permitted.  it takes some getting used to.

9.   boarding pass?
     i don't really have one, but when i checked in they gave me this sheet of paper with some numbers written on it.
     hmm...i don't know if this...wait, is it signed?
     yeah, right there.  on the hand-drawn line at the bottom.
     oh, ok - i see.  the ramp is on your left.  enjoy your flight.

10.
How can it be described?  How can any of it be described?  The trip and the story of the trip are always two different things.  The narrator is the one who has stayed home, but then, afterwards, presses her mouth upon the traveler's mouth, in order to make the mouth work, to make the mouth say, say, say.  One cannot go to a place and speak of it; one cannot both see and say, not really.  One can go, and upon returning make a lot of hand motions and indications with the arms.  The mouth itself, working at the speed of light, at the eye's instructions, is necessarily struck still; so fast, so much to report, it hangs open and dumb as a gutted bell.  All that unsayable life!  That's where the narrator comes in.  The narrator comes with her kisses and mimicry and tidying up.  The narrator comes and makes a slow, fake song of the mouth's eager devotion.

-lorrie moore

                        
 

What did you think of this article?




Trackbacks
  • Trackbacks are closed for this post.
Comments

Leave a comment

 Enter the above security code (required)

 Name

 Email (will not be published)

 Website

Your comment is 0 characters limited to 3000 characters.