You could've been a star kid...

Rob and I woke up at 7 to be at the meeting spot by 8. The alarm went off but I was already awake, how could I sleep I was about to be in a huge bollywood film. Still a little worried that the whole thing was a hoax and no one would be there but us standing on the corner like two sad lost little puppies, we had a small breakfast while we waited for a man named polo to come take us to our stardom.

Eevntually Polo arrived, as well as about ten other westerners that had been spotted as well and we all hussled into a taxi to the train station. Rob and I got into a cab with two canadians, Margueritte and fat bastard. I'm sure fat bastard had a name, but to me it was not worth remembering, he made crude comments abut girl's weights, told us how liberal he was and that although he once was a redneck he had since shed that skin. I asked if that applied to other things like racism, he said "I'm not racist, I just don't like black people." I said, "I believe thats the definition , sir. Now go away."

The train ride was interesting but by this point all of the exhiliration had turned into exhaustion. After a number of delays someone told us to make sure we stayed in our seats because th next stop was crazy. We did as told but crazy was an understatement. Hundreds of indian men, ran onto the train as if they were in the middle of a rugby match, tackling each other, shouldering their way through and laughing the whole time. It was funny and yet terrifying. All of the sudden we got word that we had to exit and like bullets out of the gun we were shot out of that train faster than I culd say "bollywood star."

Now on the others side, we walked to the gates of the film studios and crossed over into fame. The girls were seperated from the boys and brought into a tiny changing room where we handed the tackiest grossest shimmeriest costumes I've ever seen. It was like bar mitzvahs gone wrong. They were filming a party scene and it was supposed to be fancy. I was the lucky girl who got the see through puke green number to the left. You acn't see the sprakles, and you can consider yourself lucky. After getting our make up and hair done (wich didn't amount to much) we had to sit and wait in this huge room where we very promptly melted all of our make up off, got covered in dirt and became gross in india yet again.

After a couple of hours our time was up and we were all called on to set for a great big musical number, we had to clap on cue, shuffle around the cameras and shake what god gave you to the catchy tune of "hes so handsome, hes so cute, hes a dude so say I do." as the main actor (Akshay Kumar) proposed to the main actress (Prithi Zinta). After many many takes of teh same scene, an old woman falling down behind me and gushing blood from her chin, yet still insisting on being in the film, getting stomped on by the camera men as they zipped aroun to get there shots and craning my neck in akward ways to make sure that I was in as many shots as possible, it was time for lunch. A bunch of already digested slop that was a little less than I expected considering how famous I was about to be.

After lunch we were back on set with scenes of shaking our hands ot music, more clapping, some dancing, and spinning around the room. I was exhausted by hour ten. I felt like crap, I'm pretty sure I looked like crap and I had lost hope that I would have my great debut in that awful green dress when out of no where I got my break. My friend Roni had ran off to ask for a pen and ended up with heaps of make up. I went off to go ask for makeup and they ended up grabbing roni and I and giving us a costume and placement change. So now not only was I in a great blue dress that I loved (which I dont have many pictures of) but I was also seperated from teh mass of other extras and put on teh staircase with roni where there was a clear shot of us. Not only was there a clear shot of us for the film but apparently also for the supporting actor Aman Verma who's eye I caught. In between takes Mr. Verma, the most famous television actor in bollywood, kept coming over to chat with me. (I channeled the summer of hip hop, Rachel V.) and I worked it. I was charming, I was cute and thank god I was no longer in taht green dress. By the end of the scene Mr. Vermas boy was asking for my phone number so that Mr. verma could ask me out and show me Bollywood and Bombay. I was pleased to say the least. But I don't have a phone number and it seemed silly to tell him which crappy guesthouse I was staying in, as if one of the most famous men in india would come pick me up from my trashy backpackers dwellings. So I apologized and said maybe the next time he came to nyc he could look me up.

The day was over and it was now clear into night. A 14 hour shoot and my feet were sore. We were finally given our clothing back and it was quite nice to be wearing somethin that didnt come with sparkles, glitter or ribbons. Rob and I and the rest of the gang collected our days wages and headed back to our backpacker world. We all agreed to meet in the morning for breakfast and maybe a film, only this time we would be in the audience in nice comfy chairs.


Here we are at the end of the day on the way home, from the left: Marguerite, harry, rob, roni, and me.