weird, i returned from india a year ago and that's the last time i wrote here! that's awful!

well, lots has been going on. i've been working on my solo album, which is about half done. i think it should come out sometime in the spring. after another ridiculous bout of voice problems this summer, i'm back playing shows - solo as well as in my new duo with Brett Hughes entitled "Me & You."

Brett and I argued for a while about whether to call ourselves "Brett Hughes and Marie Claire" or "Marie Claire and Brett Hughes." So we finally decided on Me & You that way we can each be first. Problem solving skills hard at work, that was.

Anyway, there's the update, it's going to be a busy month. I got my first very own christmas tree today. i'm thrilled.

xo
mc

... "One Man Band" is Indian for "DJ- Karaoke-style."  and it comes to your attention that it is not just your little brother who is obsessed with John Denver's hit, "Country Roads," but in fact the ENTIRE Indian subcontinent as well. 

... you're lying on the beach when suddenly drums begin and you look up to see a less-than-enthusiastic indian girl walking the tightrope that she and her brother have just erected on the sand while balancing a large stack of bowls on her head.

... the Arabian Sea is so salty that you can float on the waves without moving.  at all. 

... you eat dinner at a restaurant on the beach and they set off fireworks less than ten feet away from the rather worried-looking Russian tourists' table.

... in the afternoon you play cricket with the Indian men who work at the beach shack.  in the evening you watch crickets crawl through the desert bowl.  you eat the piece that you didn't see them walk over because if you didn't see it, it didn't happen.

... as you shave your legs in the shower, the room suddenly falls dark and all noises stop except the beating of the water against the tile floor.  you unflinchingly continue to shave your legs.  in the dark.

... your best friend's freckles are commonly mistaken for a skin disease by inquiring locals.

... you spend half an hour trying to impress upon Deepu, the Nepali boy at the beach shack, why on earth it's a good thing to get a tan.  he simply cannot wrap his head around why you think darker is better.

... while you eat your breakfast of mango puree juice and mango Kelloggs Corn Flakes, you look out at the courtyard and wonder why there aren't nets under the coconut trees.  you get your answer when you observe a small indian man shimmy up one of said trees with nothing more than a few bits of rope and a meat cleaver. 

... at the airport, you notice with distinct gratitude that the indian man sitting near you and your best friend is NOT staring.

... you try to carry the snake charmer that you've purchased with you onto the plane, but when the security man tells you it has to be checked, a problem solving discussion commences (he creates them; you solve them):

   Indian Man: It has to be scanned.

   Marie: Okay, scan it.  Then i want to put it in the suitcase.

   IM: It can just go by itself.

   M: No, I'm putting it in the case.

   IM: But the case is already locked.

   M: But i want it in the case, i don't want it to break.  I'm putting it in the case.

   IM: But madame, the case is already locked it cannot open.

   M: It's a plastic lock!  Break it!

   IM: But now it has to be scanned again.

   M: OKAY THEN SCAN IT AGAIN!!!!!

... you wave at the little indian girl that you walk by every day, and each time you do, she breaks into an ear-to-ear grin and bashfully, and then enthusiastically, waves back.

... you try to figure out how to say goodbye to the country.  you decide not to.

... you are going home today.

 

xo

mc

... you don't think twice about the fact that your sweet corn vegetable soup is a consistency comparable to that of mucous.  some things, you just learn to let go.

... for the locals, beachwear is less a matter of comfort and more a matter of modesty.  at least for women, who enter the water fully clothed in their sarees.  men, on the other hand, strut their stuff in tighty-whities.  nope, not Speedos - if only i could BE so lucky.  those are reserved for the tourists.

... large nets stretch across pools and outdoor seating patios at restaurants to protect patrons from the ominous threat of falling coconuts.

... you don't hail a taxi, the taxi hails you.  when you hear someone yelling "TAXI," it isn't because they want one, it's because they've got one, and they want you in it.

... i lied about the male:female ratio of 9:1.  25:1 would be more accurate.

... you've finally decided to clip your nails after agreeing to teach one of the boys working at the beach shack how to play his guitar.  but not until you'd taken a good five or six very proud pictures of them.  seriously, active pianists never get to have long nails.

... you've unleashed your inner hippie, which is cause for concern, as you thought you'd left those days in the last millenium. 

... while pondering the previous sentiment, you realize there are a number of things you've completely forgotten about in the last few weeks, and you find yourself compiling an organized "notes to self" page in your journal to aid in a smooth transition process back into western culture/your real life.  some examples:

    1) deodorant.  it's not sitting there on your dresser just for decoration.

    2) a two-piece swimsuit does not a substitute for a bra and undies make.  day, after day, after day... etc.

    3) gross, who would really do that?...

    4) driving on the RIGHT-hand side of the road is encouraged.

    5) as is abiding by any other basic traffic laws i.e. red means stop, pedestrian means stop, cow means call animal control, etc.

    6) when someone says "excuse me" to you on the street, appropriate protocol does not dictate walking past as if they don't exist, even if they follow after you for a block.

    7) AH! the JOYS of IN-NETWORK CALLING!!!!

... nothing exhausts you like a long day sleeping in the sun.  man, life is tough sometimes.

 

xo

mc

... beach cows. enough said.

... the days of flat hair are over, thanks to the wonderful healing and volumizing qualities of saltwater and a crisp salty breeze.

...  you realize that the most useful and valued thing you brought with you was that little booklight that your mother picked up for you at Costco on a whim.  thanks ma.

... even though there are coconut trees growing outside your window and the sound of waves crashing on the shore, you still have to walk through India to get to the beach (trash, stink, the occasional pig, etc.).

... you select the next restaurant to dine in not by the menu choices, but by the cleanliness... of the restroom.

... if you are asked one more time if you would like a "sunbed, madame?  free sunbed, just for you.  a sunbed, madame?" you might consider telling them exactly what they can do with their free sunbed.

... it comes to your attention that only about half of the squashed mosquitos on the wall of your room were put there by you.

... throwing up all night isn't so bad, if it means you get to lounge around in bed all the next day drooling over george clooney during a marathon "ocean's" series session, guilt-free.  anyway, bananas, rice, toast and apple juice are four of your favourite food groups.

... you know something is amiss when the indian man who approaches you on the beach asking to speak to you for just two minutes tells you "you don't need to worry, you have nothing to fear."  yeah, no.

... you haven't played the piano in three weeks, and your nails have never been this long in your life.  how do people type with these things?

... you view every "western-style-toilet" as an opportunity.

... you really, REALLY miss your brother.  (well, and other people, too.)

... you realize that lying on the beach all day sunning and reading and listening to music with your best friend is not in the least bit boring.  ummm... nope, not at all.

... apologies for previous comment to anyone currently clad in scarves/parkas/wool coats/hats/mittens/boots/etc...

xo
mc

... rugs made with "wegetable dyes" will not ever fade.

... if you happen to make eye contact with a rickshaw driver, you can take his picture, as long as you show it to him afterwards.

... designs on buildings painted with "wegetable dyes" will not ever fade.

... drivers that wave their hands in the air while shouting emphatically "THIS IS INDIA!!!" are not to be trusted. 

... block-printed fabric from Jaipur printed with "wegetable dyes" will not ever fade.

... when you look to purchase a pair of shoes, the man will order you to sit down and by the time you turn around, he's boxed you into the corner with three stools.  although you want to sit, you find yourself yelling "NO I DON'T WANNA SIT DOWN!!" and running away.  damn, i did kinda want those shoes.

... but they weren't painted with "wegetable dyes" so they would've faded anyway.

... you find your breaking point and pass it.

... when the taxi driver is trying to rip you off and tells you no he can't put the meter on because it's broken and you've heard that line a hundred times you look at him and yell "THAT'S A LIE!" and you can tell he knows it by the succeeding gleeful peals of laughter.

... criteria for tour guides goes as follows:

   1) at least 75% of words must be decipherable

   2) must not have large wad of chew stuck between all gaps of upper front teeth

   3) must not spit said wad of chew sporadically in general direction of guide-ees during tour

   4) must not answer/chat on cell phone during tour

   5) should be able to shoo away non-paying tour crashers/indian male paparazzi during tour

   6) must not be denied admittance to fort by fort personel at commencement of tour

   7) must limit talk about the non-fading quality of "wegetable dye" to a maximum of 20% of all information given on tour

... your snot is black.  one day in Delhi and your snot - is - black.  we won't even discuss the q-tips in the garbage can.

... your rickshaw driver lets you off a block early because the street is heavily congested with traffic.  due to a wedding.  complete with groom-on-horse, marching band, hand-held lamps powered by a generator on a wagon, dancing indian men a la Elaine from Seinfeld.

... fifteen minutes after noting (out loud) the bad teeth and annoying indoor smoking habits of the large and curiously well-groomed party of Brits seated next to you at dinner, the restaurant manager stands up and announces to the dining room at large that it is their distinct pleasure this evening to welcome the mayor of London and his entourage.  whoops.

... oh well, as you sit and enjoy the evening's "entertainment" hired in his honor, you become certain that the belly dancer who is now gyrating around him while he tries to enjoy his meal is making him much more uncomfortable than your verbal faux-pas, which he probably didn't hear anyway.

... i hope.

... you really want to go to the beach.  good thing you're heading there tomorrow!

 

xo

mc

... you can burn as much incense as you want, but nothing will cure the moldy stink in your hotel room like a hefty dose of J'adore Dior.

... you realize that flat hair really isn't so bad.  wait, that's a lie.

... hawks fly below you.

... you've showered once in the last four days, but it's okay because you're still exercising better hygiene than all the neo-hippie ex-pats you see on the street.

... your fear of travelling down the steep cliff roads triples when you see a bright purple tourist bus leaning awkwardly towards the mountain with one wheel off the road as you walk towards your own (very similar) bus. 

... you spend time bonding with Irish girls over the fear of switchback trails, the sharing of anti-anxiety meds, and scotch on the way down the mountain.

... when deciding between a stinking "traditional" toilet and squatting in the bushes behind said toilet, you opt for Mother Earth. Camping style.  At 3 am.  Somewhere in the middle of Northern India.  Near Pakistan.  Don't worry, mom, s'fine.

... you realize you may be a shopoholic when you need to purchase a rather spacious new duffle bag to tote your new items home.

... the male:female ratio on the street is 9:1.

... the way men look at you gives you the heeby-jeebys.

... you're so exhausted that you start to use phrases like "heeby-jeebys."

... you cringe when you hear yourself say things like "i don't want to wear these pants to bed after i walked through poop in them."

... it suddenly dawns on you that you're going to see the Taj Mahal tomorrow.

... holy crap.

 

xo

mc

... you can burn incense in your hotel room all the live long day and no one yells at you for it.

... a coke is served it in its original tall glass bottle with a very long straw.

... good-hearted tibetan monks conduct heated debates complete with exaggerated hand slaps and foot stomps in the middle of the afternoon.

... there is a handpainted sign posted outside the temple warning tourists to "Make Sure Your 'Shose' Are Not Stolen By Someone."

... an old tibetan lady may warn you not to walk any further down the path because thieves are waiting to steal the money out of your purse and chuck it off the mountain.  and she'll tell you this in the universal language of charades.

... you become aware of the fact that the smell of one particular brand of anti-bacterial gel - the one with the little blue dots in it - is beginning to turn your stomach.

... you discover that you can stuff big silver hoop earrings into the hole with your plugs and it looks fine.

... Indian men walk up and ask you to let them take a picture with you and if you agree then ten more come swarming around asking the same thing.  i expect to be featured on several mantlepieces as the new "loose" american girlfriend.

... you become very attached to the mountains that seemed so foreign a week ago.

... you form routines very quickly.

... you don't want to leave.

 

xo

mc

... you eat at a tibetan pizzeria and they play backstreet boys circa 1997.

... you can talk down the price of a scarf from Rs 450 ($11.25) to Rs 180 ($4.50) in about ten minutes.

... you realize that you'd look really good riding that motorcycle.  in the driver's seat.

... the man with the jewelry stand on one particular corner shouts "happy face" to you when you walk by smiling.

... you can take a one hour class on a tibetan musical instrument for $2.50/hr.

... monks smile mischeviously when you grin at them.

... tibetan children give each other piggy backs and wear school uniforms.

... you realize that you just may have had one (or five) too many cups of chai today.

... crows try to land on a string of prayer flags, fail, and dangle awkwardly upside-down by one claw from a thread before wriggling free.

... you learn about how musical language sounds when you can't understand the words.

... everyone is calm.  everyone is peaceful.

xo
mc

... you pay 40 Rupees ($1) for a huge bowl of curry on rice.

... the toilet paper is pink.

... traffic is total anarchy and everyone honks.

... women in saris ride side-saddle on motorcycles holding their small children.

... my best friend rides side-saddle on a motorcyle - sans small child.

... you have to make sure to close your windows when you leave or monkeys will enter your room.

... you wrap up leftovers not to take home, but to give to a street child as soon as you leave the restaurant.

... you have to be 25 to drink.

... you drive past cows sitting on the street corners munching on garbage.

... you drink lime soda sugared or salted.

... you buy a dress made by tibetan monks for $7.

... you operate on sensory overload.

... you learn to appreciate things you never thought of as luxuries.

xo

mc

i will finally be going into the studio tomorrow to record some more jams (jam = song, not jammy jam). Steve Hadeka is going to lay down some drum tracks. Rob O'Dea is going to lay down some bass tracks. i am going to lay down an take a nap... ahh, wishful thinking.

i will send some pics from the studio and hopefully post some sound BITES. yessss.

xo
mc