Japan, Australia

Well world, I have returned to my home in Japan. It snowed here last night... therefore I went surfing today. To me, logic makes sense in a twisted sort of way. Needless to say, I froze my face off on the way back to the car. I started laughing out of the realization of my sheer stupidity. I laughed even harder when I saw my face reflected in the car window, because I wasn't smiling at all. My face had become so stiff that when I smiled, it didn't really do anything. It just sat there, looking cold. Really hilarious stuff.

I return to California tomorrow evening. (break) in that break there was a lapse of about three days. Now I'm back in California. So, since my trip is over, it's time to talk about the beginning: Australia.

I always thought kangaroos in Australia was some sort of silly stereotype that silly people invented, but I was wrong. No, really. They're everywhere! People don't like to drive in the evening because they're always hopping across the roads. They're also have notoriously bad driving habits. They calmly watch a car coming, and while the car cautiously inches past them... ah ha!! They jump straight into the car. Sometimes even straight into the side of the car. It's like a game. Supposedly. I didn't see this happen.

Can you see the roos lurking in the back?

I like to think it's part of an evil kangaroo conspiracy. They're actually the smartest creatures on earth, and they have all humans connected to machines that suck the life energy out of them, all the while making them live in a hallucination. Like the matrix. But kangaroos instead of machines. Having kangaroos in this hallucination is an enjoyable little joke to them. They spend their lazy days in reality watching our hallucinations like TV... oh look at that one, straight into the head light... oh and that one, those silly humans think they're so superior.

I'm getting side tracked. Australia. Yes.

I stayed in a small town called Denmark in the south-western tip of Australia. It's home to a surf spot called Ocean Beach, which is famous(in my mind) for being a spot the guys in Endless Summer went to. They heard that they "shoulda' been here yesterday"... and that was the case for us, as well.

This is Ocean Beach:


The surf report for the day read: A poke in the eye would be more fun &/or gargling some wasps.




I'll write again soon!!

Mridangam Master

My dad read a book that said to become an expert at anything, you have to put in 10,000 hours of practice. That equates to roughly 3 hours a day for ten years, according to the book. A lot of time... 

We went to a performance by a "master" mridangam (an Indian percussion instrument)player and our friend and ghatam (Indian clay pot instrument) player, Udupa. Now, this so called master was in his early 70's. He started playing when he was about 4, but probably played about 6 hours a day, like his father did, and his father's father. So that means, according to my calculations and detailed statistical analysis, that by the time he was 9, he was already an expert mridangam player. What did he do for the other 60 somewhat years of his life? He played. Like crazy. 

I was blown away. This master's head and shoulders didn't move more than an inch in any direction, but his hands were a total blur. He was just casual. Like a stroll in the park. He would even look around once in a while like he was bored during the performance. Apparently that's just part of the culture here... a lot of the players did that. 

He could play with his right hand far faster than I can play with both of my hands playing the uduboo. I honestly couldn't comprehend what was going on, but I could hear the fast, sharp, clear whacks of each of his fingers hitting the head of the drum. 

Our friend Udupa is in his late 20's, so he's got tons of energy. But at the end of the performance, Udupa was the one sweating up a storm trying to keep up with this guy in his late 70's. The master? He hadn't sweat a single bead. Amazing. 

The last photo above is Udupa. 

By the way... The reason this blog is called skim India is because I went skimboarding in India. Make sense? It was pretty interesting. The only person there was a fisherman who had a tiny little hut on the beach, and he came up to me and told me he did gymnastics. I wasn't quite sure what that had to do with my skimming... I suppose that my level was reaching acrobatic proportions?  He also told me that he fishes with a net, but the fishing was no good this day. When he left, he said, "good bye, friend." Nice guy. 

I've added a few more photos for kicks, too. Enjoy. 

India Belated

I'm on my 6th day in India, which means this blog is a bit late... But it's here. My dad is on a mission to be interviewed on a radio station here, so I've finally had a bit of time to do something like this. 

So this trip began with a few days in Japan, then two weeks in Australia, and now, India. 

I might write about Australia later, but for now, India. The first thing I noticed on the way from the plane to the gate was the smell. A strong, hot smell like car oil and spices. That's mostly all there is in Chennai, actually. My dad and I bought a pre-paid taxi ticket and piled my skimboard and luggage into the old... car? Wow, it looks like a beetle, but it's got a soft lining on the inside. No seat belts. I was soon to learn those are rare here... Our driver made up for his lack of speech with his car horn. The only part of the car that was clean was the horn, because he pushed it so much. 

There aren't any lanes on the road, but I'm pretty sure they drive on the left here. The only thing that clues me in on that is that the steering wheel is on the right, not the left. When there's no opposing traffic, the road becomes a massive one way street. Once in a while there will be someone going the other way on the right... or the left, either, really. 

Driving here is economical in a way. Whole families ride on a single motorcycle. 

So far the most I've see

n is four people on a motorcycle, two parents, two kids, no helmets. Wait, no that's a moped. How do they... The entire street is moving so fast I don't quite get to figure it out. 

The food was a lot more terrifying to me than the road, though. Thanks to my dad, I had already heard of string-bean like man-killers that set your mouth on fire. 

So i wasn't looking forward to it. I ordered the Thali, which is a mixture of local dishes. 

A large silver platter is put in front of me, lined with little cups of terror around the outer edge. So I carefully dipped my fried something-or-other in a cup of spicy looking death and put it in my trembling mouth... Not bad. Not bad at all. So the food turned out to be quite good. 

So my first impression of India: Awesome place. The food is great, I've even skimmed a little, too, but I'm glad I'm not doing any driving here. It's good to be here.