German Bakeries abound in Northern India, who knew?

A word or two about those chocolate croissants I have been consuming - they are not like the ones back home. First of all, you purchase them at the German Bakery.

You can barely walk 10 feet without running into a German Bakery in Pushkar, complete with all the chocolate croissants you could possibly eat. There's almost as many German Bakeries here as there are shrines and temples.

Well, okay, not really, that's a big exaggeration. There's alotta shrines here. Like, think of all the Starbucks as you can find in Canada, and you may come to have some idea. Oh what the heck, throw in the Tim Hortons too, times that by 1000, you may be close. (Got that? Canuck Starbucks + Tim Hortons x 1000 = possible number of shrines/temples in Pushkar.) If we're talking India, give me a break, I can't count that high.

I kept wondering about all the signs I was passing: German bakery here, German Bakery there, everywhere a German Bakery. Everybody join in: Old Mr. Hoffman had a bakery, eee-i, eee-i, oh!

I've overheard people speaking French, English, Japanese, everything but German. It's not exactly "Namaste Frauline" at the bakeries, y'know? It's the Indian experience designed for foreigners. Don't worry, I'm consuming my fair share of laddus and rosewater milk sweets too, otherwise it just wouldn't be right, there would be no balance, am I right? (Lemme help you out in case you were unsure how to repond. The correct answer is: Oh when you're right, you're right. Hallelujah sister, you speak the truth.)

Apparently German's have a reputation for being the best bakers. Did you know that? I didn't know that. I myself have experienced the blissful joy of my Goddess incarnate roommate's plum cake, but I was still unaware of this reputation. As reputations go, this one's fantastic! If I was German, I might even start writing it on all the bathroom walls "For a good Apple Strudel call 555-1212"

Though, as I noted, that advertising would not be neccessary in India. And thank goodness, because, well, there's not a lot of bathrooms here and you don't always want to touch the walls in them.

Did I mention the outdoor urinals? I am not referring to men who pee anywhere, anytime, which happens all the time here. I mean, here's a little row of stalls you might be walking by, thinking 'What's that I wonder?' Well wonder no more dear ones, because if you're walking by while someone's using the facilities, you'll just see it's a row of urinals with no door. The public urinal I witnessed in Kolkatta was up a short flight of stairs, so the men could climb up and if they happened to look over their shoulder, they could see you walk by while they took care of their business, as we politely used to say back home. (Oh, how delicate and precious those long gone days seem now, my memories filtered through a warm light and filled with the scent of rose petals. (The smell of urine will never hold the same special place in my heart)

Hooray Eufemia! Covering bakeries and urinals in one post. Who said it couldn't be done? Who? Well, most people might not compare bakeries and urinals in the same sentence, let alone, contemplate the two things on the same day, but perhaps they're just not wanting to look at the bigger picture.

I think I made my point. So in conclusion, the croissants are not the same. They're thicker - like bread, and it's not chocolate but a mix of brown sugar with chocolate on the inside. Still, I'm not complaining, no, no. Nahee.