Water

My roommate's response to my first e-mail back from India (which was the yesterday's post):

Aren't Bangalores the militant aliens from Fifth Element?

I think your tax refund came in the mail the day you left. Just so's you know. Some yellow governmental envelope anyway. Probably not execution orders anyway.

Drink the water.

Troll

A big part of why I love this e-mail so much is "Drink the water." When you're getting ready to leave the country, particularly to southeast asia or south america, there is no phrase you will here more often than "Don't drink the water." Your friends and co-workers, especially the ones who've rarely been as far from home as the next state, will say this as if they're passing on a big secret, some sort of inside information from the experienced world traveller. Probably fifty different people had passed on that advice to me in the week before I left.

Yeah, I know.

If that wasn't enough, my friends in Bangalore who'd be showing me around would do it, too. At several restaurants the waiter would pour everyone water and Vikram would reach across and take my glass away from me, like I was an infant. Because you know, water in other countries is not composed of hydrogen and oxygen like American water, but rather exploding poison and radioactive razorblades.

Honestly, people, I don't even drink the tapwater here. Unless of course it's carbonated, loaded with sugar, caffeine, and artificial flavors, looks dark brown, and comes in a 12 ounce can.