Hindi Beginning…
In two weeks I will travel to India to teach young, gifted traditional animators how to weild 3D animation software, so they can usurp me when the international job market is a fairer place. I’m not exactly sure what I’ll be teaching, as I haven’t been told what resources the school has. However, at the very worst-case scenario I shall just teach them hard maths, which is what computer animation looks like without the computer.
I thought my adventure was to begin on the 2nd of February, but in fact it began early, yesterday afternoon at work:
| Colleague: | So have you had all your shots? |
| Me: | Er, no. I didn’t think any were compulsory for India. |
| Colleague: | Well, they’re not compulsory for entry, but they are sort of compulsory for continuing living. You’d better go to a private clinic tomorrow morning. Else you’re gonna die. |
Wednesday morning, in the plush British Airways Travel Clinic in Piccadilly:
| Doctor: | All your immunisation has expired. I’d better give you blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Else you’re gonna die. |
| Me: | OK. Will it hurt? |
| Doctor: | Most people go sort of, “GnNgaarrAarchgh!”. |
Sound of puncturing flesh
| Me: | That didn’t hurt at all. |
| Doctor: | That’ll be £116, please. |
Sound of puncturing wallet
| Me: | GnNgaarrAarchgh! |
Lesson learned: Airlines should not own hospitals. Or something. My arm hurts. They tell me to drink lots of water, which requires my arm, then they make my arm hurt. Very funny. Thanks a bunch.
