chubby and tubby

Towards the end of the trip, as we were taking an auto-rickshaw ride through the (very, very bumpy) streets of Chennai, I noticed that my round little belly was shaking, as we drove, like a bowlful of jelly. (Which it normally does not do.)

I returned to my hotel room, weighed myself, procured a slide rule, converted the result to regular-people units, and discovered that I weighed 5 pounds more (unclothed) than at my last doctor’s appointment (where, out of consideration for potentially-faint-hearted patients, they always weigh me fully-clothed, and also with sacks of nickels in my pockets).

After a few moments of despair, I began to reflect on how this could be the case. The following is a list of (non-mutually-exclusive) possibilities.

1. Habit of making ersatz “Croissan’wiches” from hotel breakfast-buffet ingredients
2. New dietary staple of “chicken cooked in (Indian spices and) rich creamery butter”
3. New dietary staple of “extra servings of Indian bread to soak up sauce left over after eating chicken cooked in (Indian spices and) rich creamery butter”
4. Repeated purchases of (and subsequent drinkings of) Cokes and Pepsis in order to get change for the ATM-provided 500-rupee bills, which sellers of monument tickets routinely claimed to be unable to provide (“you come back after you visit temple, I give you change then!”)
5. Nightly replacement of customary dinner drink of “water” (possibly laden with cholera or spirulina or some other terrible disease) with 650ml (about 22oz) bottles of Kingfisher beer (in Tamil Nadu complete with hyperbolic “Liquor ruins country, family, and life” warning label)
6. Dearth of Indian CrossFit affiliates
7. Prohibitions on climbing things at historical monuments
8. Unpleasantness of long walks in heavily-polluted, full-of-pestering-rickshaw-drivers big cities

Fortunately, we came home to no food in the house [technically, we came home to no Joel-food, as we are well-stocked on “rice-cooker-cooked whole grains (e.g. cracked wheat) with South Indian spices”, which is a staple of Ganga’s diet but which I don’t particularly care for] and we haven’t bothered to go to the store yet, which means that I haven’t eaten dinner the last three nights, which means that (especially since I don’t eat breakfast at home either) I’m back down to my pre-India weight already.

Still, a terrifying experience!

Last night my sister came over to see our pictures, and showing them took 2 hours, mostly because there are so damn many of them (who really needs 40 pictures of the Taj Mahal?) but also because I couldn’t remember what a lot of them were (or couldn’t read the squiggly-language signs in them) and had to ask Ganga for help.

The moral of the story is that I have to do some serious culling before I start thinking about uploading and sharing them. But I’ll get to it soon, I promise.

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