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An illustrated regular |
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Monday, April 03, 2006
Goranga
I went to the city centre (well, the "town", since I pretty much live in the city centre anyway) with my little brother on Saturday. Walking the bro. We walked Princes Street and took the Nicholson Street and the Bridges route (I know that means nothing to you dear readers) and when we crossed High Street (on the Royal Mile), we were stopped by a monk. He was dressed like a regular person, looked like he was in his late-20's, and had a friendly smile, and I thought he was just going to ask us for the time or for directions. Those were not his intentions. He started with a friendly chat, and I soon realised into which direction that conversation was going, and kind of wanted to continue our walk, instead of getting saved or something, so I answered "uh, no....no...no" when he asked us if we were into 70's rock, because there was this Led Zeppelin-AC/DC-etc-influenced spiritual music rock band whose CD he was selling. That part actually reminded me of Pastor Skip in Saved! telling Mary's mother about how Christian rock was just like secular rock and "Bam! You've saved another soul!" The monk proceeded to tell us about his religion, of which I have little memory (don't even remember what it's called, I think Krishna or something like that), but the part that really sticks out was when he mistook me for Matti's mother. Now, I can understand if people think Sigrun Ugla is my daughter, but honestly, do I look like I could be the mother of an 11-year-old? Do I? DO I? He explained that he just assumed it because I was acting so motherly toward him. He also asked me if I took it as a compliment or an insult, and I said I wasn't sure. I think the latter, although considering that I would have to be at least 23-24 so it would be physically possible for me to be the mother of an 11-year-old, and I guess that's not too bad, but still. I forgave him because he's a monk so obviously he wouldn't know about girls not being able to conceive a child at the age of seven.
Well. I politely brushed it aside with a few "It's OK, it's fine" as the monk said "So sorry" a few times. Then I kind of subtly-obviously implied that we had to get going, but he managed to convince us to donate 2 pounds and15 pence anyway. He gave me some book called Srimad Bhagavatam of Krsna-Dvaipayana vysasa which has the lyrics to "Hare Krishna" from Hair on the back (well, the first part), and offered Matti some candy cane, but Matti, being the most atypical 11-year-old I've ever met, politely refused. Before we went our way, the monk asked us if we could say "goranga" which we did, inadvertedly in unison, and he told us that it meant "be well" or "go well" or something like that, but he neglected to tell us what language it was.
So. Goranga!
QotD: Xander: "Man, words cannot express how much I hate this place."
Giles: "It's dreadful."
Anya: "It's like communism." - Buffy the Vampire Slayer
p.s. I seem to be using the phrase "something like that" a lot. I even remember, after telling somebody I was introduced to my name a couple of times and the person couldn't pronounce it, I just said "yeah, something like that". Now that was a hit, fired right back at me when I asked for that person's name, even though the name was simple and easily pronouncable. |
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