A Recipe For Disaster

I love to travel. I would endlessly search the world for nothing in particular if somebody's Uncle Sam would allow it. From everywhere that I have journeyed, gives me an appreciation for the quality of awareness about handicapped access. (Kanako refers to it as being "Ryan-able".) I have come to find that Delhi, in all it's glory, neglects that quality just as well as the next guy.

Loads of stairs. Break-your-back-again, bumpy coblestone. Narrow doorways that send me away without even a preview. Unpaved roadways, or better yet-- unmaintained roadways. Ruthless automobiles. Ruthless animals. Ruthless people.

All of these things though do, however, make for an adventure like no other. Certified and guaranteed. I have always had an adventurous spirit, and if I had it my way I would be climbing mountains, walking on tightropes, and ultimately defying gravity at any chance I could get. But, such is life to yearn to do the things that your very being will not allow.

Instead, what is there to do but make an adventure of your own. Here's the recipe:

- 1 cup of Uninhibited Thought
- 3 T of Ignorance
- 1 t of Clumsiness
- A dash of A Fatalist's Perspective
Combine the above ingredients together until a frothy mixture has taken away rational awareness of the surroundings.
Don't forget to double the recipe to share with friends!

We have been dying to see "The Dark Knight" for weeks now but it has always been sold out. One thing that you should know about Indians, is that they looooove their cinema. The way that it works is that when you purchase your ticket you are automatically assigned to a seat. Yesterday we all decided that once and for all we were going to make this happen-- I actually think that it became more of a concept to conquer, rather than actually dying to see this flick. Purchasing tickets only one day in advance left us little seat options, so we (6 of us) were designated to the second row. Perfect, right? At the movies back home the stairs usually go up, so we'd be okay... but this is India!

The movie theater is located in our favorite mall so it appeared to be a piece of cake, except for the fact that none of us had ever actually seen the movie theater. It's a good thing that we got there early. Once appropriately following the arrows directing us the the theater entrance I (and I assume Michael) immediately noticed the 7 stairs upward that lead to the ticket taker who was positioned strategically in front of a sign that boasted about the handicapped accommodations. It even had my favorite blue and white stiff wheelchair man to tell me that it was going to be okay. And okay it was. By now, practically all of India are pros at getting me up and down stairs. No problem, until we approach the actual auditorium and the 20-something stairs to get in there too. Just another adventure for Ryan when I won't take the liberty of finding out the stinkin' stair situation beforehand myself.

Aside from that I do feel quite successful in my independence here. Yesterday Michael and I went out to the market, just the two of us (in each other's chairs on top of that). I could tell that Sarah was trying to be a thinker by verbally contemplating as I rolled out the door, "Are you going to be able to do the stairs?"

"I'll be fine."

The market covers about 4 blocks along a fairly busy road. To navigate the sidewalk you must be fully equipped to go up and down stairs as well as push up 80-degree angled ramps that appear to have aged poorly, and no where near in the sense of a good wine or cheese would. With the help of one another, a few circus tricks, and several innocent bystanders we made it to one of my favorite eateries, The Evergreen Sweet Shop. I kindly gestured to the doorman with the bushy and curly cigar version of a mustache and within seconds we were carried in like merchandise and directed to a table. Phew.

I am not sure that the sticky sweet lime soda was worth the trip, but the act of the trip most certainly was. I need to remind myself to be alive and uncomfortable, vulnerable even, at times. This is the only true way of digging down into your character, like eyelash kissing your soul. So many people fear the jarring of un-welcomed emotions that they steer clear of them and always take the high road, the paved road.

I suppose that even optional accessibility can sometimes be optimal assess-ability at times.