kick’n it in the village, part 1.

Over the weekend Judah and I (David) took an overnight train 750 km southwest to the beautiful southern state, known as “God’s Own Country,” by locals.  We were there to attend our dear friends’ son’s baptism.

Literate, lush green, water-logged, tsunami-swept, rioting Communists, coconut-oil-in-every-dish, entrepreneurial, choking humidity thick with mosquitos, cheerful village spilling over with extended family, cashew capital, living Hindu goddesses, it is more of a country than a state.

We had a blast.  Judah slept like a champ on the train and the bus home, mixed and mingled with kids speaking multiple languages, ate almost nothing, and made it back with nothing but smiles.

Wedding season is in full swing here.  We stumbled upon a couple shooting an engagement video.  They promptly invited Judah and me to join them in the boat for part of it.  Who wouldn’t want two beautiful, bald white guys to help them remember their romance?