ashram.” He seemed pleased at his mastery of the English language,
and performed a confident head-wobble.
“Like what kind of unusual sexual practices?” I asked, shifting in
my seat.
“Oh, everything. Orgies, sexual therapy classes, nude
sunbathing, nude sporting activities. Oh, yes, this was my favorite:
nipple awareness classes for men.”
I burst out laughing once more. “Wh-what?”
“Yes it is very humorous. Apparently there were classes
designed to allow men to get in touch with their feminine side by
meditating on their own nipples. Most curious.”
“I’ll say! Sounds like quite a place. Have you been?”
“No, no. I wanted to go look around but they wouldn’t let me in.
They told me I had to take a test first, so I declined. It wasn’t that
important for me to see some silly Westerners walking around naked,
or whatever it is they do there.”
“What kind of test would you have had to take to get in?” I joked.
“A gullibility test?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” he grinned. “They insist that
everyone has to pass an AIDS examination before they set foot in the
ashram. They certainly don’t want anyone around who is carrying the
lethal HIV virus, especially with their unusual lifestyle. And who can
blame them?”
Certainly not me. I felt panicky. How was I going to get around
this one? I couldn’t see any way I could make a relatively enormous
and complicated trip to this place and then tell Oscar that I just
changed my mind at the last moment. I supposed I could just pull a
disappearing act and vanish into the great expanses of India, never to
be heard from again. Or perhaps I could just show the ashram office
my HIV test slip with the cryptic writing on it and tell them that it
actually said “okie dokie” in Hebrew. I really wasn’t sure what it was
that I was going to do. All I knew was that my situation on the train
had gone from relatively uncomfortable to nearly unbearable, and
that I had to get up and walk around so that I could think.
After borrowing a cigarette from the Indian businessman and
carefully navigating the bodies that were sleeping in the aisles of the
train, I made my way into the repulsively dirty bathroom, pushing
sleeping people out of the way of the door to get in, and finally leaned
against the sink to have a smoke and a think.
In those five minutes, my mind was abuzz. Initially, most of my
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
152
 |
 |
 |
 |