naughty child in manali

The past two days have been great. Totally uplifting, encouraging. Everyone from the trip made it back together for a little rendezvous in Vashish. We ate. We watched movies. We shopped. We avoided rabid dogs. We ate more Yak milk products than I think I ever want to consume again in my life.

But really, on to the high light of staying in Manali:

There's nothin' like bringin in Shabbat with a little boob graze from a five year old Indian boy who calls you, "White Chocolate".

I know what you're thinking.

White Chocolate? Really? Who calls you that?

Personally, I think White Chocolate a very fitting name. Far better than any of the other nick names I've earned through out the years...as far as originality goes.

And as far as the physical violation goes, it's rather traumatic.

cue tragic violin music

Our team was on the way to a nice quiet Shabbat dinner, and as a few of us made our way to the ATM to withdraw a couple more rupees (to buy souvenirs with, obv)a small child ran up to my, grabbed my purse and yelled,

"hello white chocolate!"

To which I cleverly responded, "No! I don't have any chocolate!" And then shoved him out of the way so that he would get his hands out of my purse.

Three minutes later, we're walking down the road and my "little friend" comes at me at a dead sprint, grabs onto my arm, resting tragically close to my chest region, and ba bam.

That's nice.

So, I did what any one would do. Shook my finger at him and pretended that I was his mother.

"That is NOT OK! Knock it off!"

Then he made a pitiful little face and ran off.


That'll teach him to mess with White Chocolate.