Never before had I been in a film shoot that was interrupted multiple times by cows.
But in Nashik, cows are the norm. You're on their turf, and they tell you so. Their moos sound like "HEEEEYYY!!! HEEY!! HEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!"
There's nothing to be done but wait.
Serious film discussion at the guest house.
So this past weekend I went to Nashik (if you're saying it out loud, the H is silent... Nassik). These filmmakers needed some white girls for their film, and man, did I deliver. I am white.
So I went with my friend Kelsie, also white, in a car for 4 or so hours to a nice little Indian town.
We stayed in a really nice guest house with cold showers and marble floors and a bowl full of red flowers. It was beautiful, and it had a great patch of front lawn for forward rolls and lying down. It even had its own private temple.
Day 1 of filming I woke up at 5. Sweet Jesus. I haven't seen that time of day except for the last time I fell asleep at that time.
We drove to a nice dusty road, and waited for our turn while they filmed the others.
In a nutshell, my type-casted, white girl from America in an Indian movie goes like this: Kelsie and I were the women of a man named Mr. Hip Hop who pretends to be a mechanic and when he sees a car full of kids on the side of the road he gets out of the car and says "Dudes! Need any help?" and Kelsie and I, being the sexually charged Americans they think we are, have to distract the car full of boys while Mr. Hip Hop robs the car of everything.
So, naturally, I suggest a swim in a nearby lake. Don't worry Mom and Dad... I didn't swim in my underwear. It's a Hindu film! I went swimming in my jeans and tank top and all of the local villagers came out to watch this pasty white chick swim in a watering hole. They were all laughing.
Let's go swimming in THAT!
You want to know why they were laughing? There are 3 possibilities...
1. The Indian boys I was swimming with kept falling over.
2. We were standing in about 6 inches of agricultural runoff. (trans. soggy cow turds)
3. I got picked up and thrown in a few times. Maybe they were laughing at what sorts of watering hole mischief could get in my system had I swallowed the water.
Anyway, at the end of that day, we were pooooped out. I took a long shower to get the agri-water out of my hair, and hung around with the other actors and production staff. They're all in their mid-20s, full of life, and veryveryfunny. We did yoga, and I remembered I could still do a headstand. COOL!
By the end of it I was no longer a nice little scandalous sort of white girl from the NY tri-state area. I was a very sunburnt, red as a Valentine's Day, sleepy little wanderer who had just robbed a car, swam in a lake, and dried off an Indian man with a towel.
All in a day's work.
SO that's part 2. Part 3 involves the ride back and the only Indian winery on the planet.
Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow.
Alvida!