one last little story
June 11, 2007 § Leave a comment
We’re back. I’m at my desk at work and I’m guessing that I’ll be fully conscious until approximately 2:00pm, at which point I expect to be face-down in my keyboard, probably drooling. I am on my third straight day of a wicked tummyache from all this rich american food (hugely ironic after exactly no digestive troubles during our trip). After two relatively short bike rides, I’ve decided to race the crit in Folsom next Saturday, and stick around for an early Faja’s Day celebration with my Pops.
But first I ought to say something about the monkeys.
On the morning before the graduation ceremony, Mr. Man and I wanted to hike back up to the hilltop temple we visited during the bahnd our first day, take another look over the valley and pick up some gifts. It had rained the night before and with with cooler weather all the new smells, the local dogs were a little snippier than usual; halfway up to the temple I had been growled and snapped at, and was feeling slightly frazzled.
We made our way up the massive stairs to the top, bought drinking water and singing bowls, used the pit latrine (indoor plumbing, how I love you), and decided to explore a part of the temple compound we’d missed during the last visit. As we headed up a new staircase, we noticed that there were a couple of monkeys hanging around the gate we were headed for & decided to turn around. Since the street dogs weren’t really digging me on the way up I didn’t want to push my luck with the monkeys.
As we turned around to head down, I saw that the two monkeys we noticed at first were actually six and congratulated myself on walking away from a gauntlet.
We had taken a few steps when I glanced back and thought it looked like eight monkeys were following us. Odd.
Ten feet later I looked back and the frickin’ monkeys were right behind me, and it was then that I remembered the rules of monkey gangs:
1. Do not bare your teeth at them (including while smiling).
2. Do not make eye contact.
3. Do not carry food or black plastic bags (which are often used to transport food).
I was carrying the gifts we bought in a black plastic bag.
We were being chased by a gang of monkeys.
My keen survival instincts kicked in and I very limp-wristedly threw the bag off to the side of the path, then Mr. Man & I stood very still (’cause the monkeys wouldn’t see us if we stop moving? I’d never survive in the wild…). The monkeys checked the bag out one by one, realized that there was no food in there, then threw us a withering look as they marched off. Still freaking out a little, I picked the bag back up and we continued walking down the hill.
After the second monkey gang accosted us I realized that I could take the gifts out of the bag and carry them by hand.