We Have Monkey Problems

We Have A Monkey Problems

60th Birthday Trip

Ganges River

Varanasi, India
July 2015

Checking in to my hotel- Palace on Steps Guesthouse


"OK, Madame, welcome to India. I will show you your room. But we have no AC in your room; we have fan and a view of the river. But you must keep door closed at all times. We have monkey problems."


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Today's tea- honey, lemon, ginger tea, which I drank in the company of the monkeys. And by the way, I am the one in the cage, not the monkeys.

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Yesterday, as I am sitting in my caged restaurant, atop the Ganges River, someone leaves the door ajar.  A monkey sneaks in. I spot him and yell at him in my principal's voice. It does startle him and I think it will be enough to intimidate him so that he will leave. But before I could get up and around to table, he ran to the refrigerator, opened the door with his right hand and grabbed a loaf of bread with his left hand and he was out of there.

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A monkey snuck into my room this morning.  I was sitting on my bed, working on my computer and I saw something whiz by my peripheral vision.  Here he was, checking out my things.  He grabs two bars of soap, looks and me and darts out of the room.  I hope he eats the damn soap and gets sick.  Now I will always have to keep my doors closed.

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After that damn monkey violated me yesterday, I went up to the cadged restaurant to grab a coke. Swinging from the tree was a monkey with a green shirt dropped over his back like a cape. And I thought to myself: It could have been worse.

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I sit at breakfast and watch a monkey eat a biscuit someone gave him.  As he savors every morsel, another monkey sneaks up behind him and grabs that biscuit so fast, the monkey didn’t know what hit him.  The second monkey takes off in a flash and the first monkey pursues him.  I hear screeching and yelps of pain.  But the second monkey returns, victorious in that he is still holding on to his stolen prize.  But I notice that he now has a huge, gaping, bleeding wound on his upper hind leg.  That first monkey literally chewed his ass off.

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I sit on my bed, in my room and hear a thunderous band against my balcony door.  It is a monkey.  He is outside, hanging by his fingertips on the door ledge.  With all of his force, he takes his feet and pushes into the door, trying to break it so he can get in and steal my things.

I HATE THESE MONKEYS.

To read more stories, check out: bkmemoirs.blogspot.com
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