Who needs a supermarket?

Corner store, redefined

Most of my daily needs are met by small-time bodegas scattered throughout neighborhoods. The above shot comes from a strip of road between Darjeeling and Ghoom.

It’s like this in much of the developing world, where supermarkets and giant shopping centers are still a very new concept.

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Not exactly Tyson, Perdue or KFC

Pretty healthy for an Indian chicken

Pretty healthy for an Indian chicken

I’m not saying that this chicken’s life is perfect, especially since this shot was taken in front of a butcher shop, but I feel far better eating meat here in India where farming remains a less corporate endeavor.

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A year-in-review

2009 kinda kicked ass

2009 kinda kicked ass

This past year pretty much rocked. And the New Year came in fine manner.  No kisses, but a bonfire amid the palm trees (above), new friends, lobster, a decent cigar (thanks, C!), champagne and even the Harry Connick, Jr., band playing Auld Lang Syne at midnight (never leave home without the iPod).

I meant to post this sooner, but here’s a little look back at my new life (as chronicled on this blog):

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Bounty of the sea

Fishing the rocky surf at Havelock's Beach No. 7

Fishing the rocky surf at Havelock's Beach No. 7

The beach in either direction was nearly deserted. The sun dipped low in the sky. Meru deliberately, slowly worked the shallows along a small rocky headland at Radha Nagar Beach on Havelock Island.

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Essentials: eggs, vegetables and cell-phone minutes

Traveling today, so here’s a Madagascar flashback:

Essentials: eggs, vegetables and cell phone credit

Bare necessities: food and communication

In Tolagnaro, if you’re not a farmer, if you don’t fish, if you don’t work at the Rio Tinto mine, you probably have a small market stall.

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Of beaches and elephants

Since I read about the Andaman and Nicobar Islands almost eight years ago during my first backpacking trip in India, they’ve been third from the top on my list of destinations. I knocked off No. 1 (Cuba, and specifically Havana) and No. 2 (Madagascar) this year, so I’m going for the hat trick.

I leave next Tuesday via overnight train to Calcutta. From Calcutta, I fly to Port Blair, once home to the prison used by the British for undesirables during the heady years leading up to Independence.

I’ll be there for almost four weeks roaming about; I plan to return to the mainland by ship, a three- to four-day journey.

I’ve got a full list of story ideas to pursue, some of which will almost certainly be jettisoned once I feel the siren call of island life.

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Big Indian snot-nosed cow

snotnosedcow

The bastard sneezed on me. As I was framing this picture.

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