Cookie Nabbing Mountain Monkeys

Ok, so here’s what happened. Louis and I checked into a hostel in McLeod outside of Darmasala to put our bags down until our next bus ride. Like most places in McLeod, there are balconies that overlook the beautiful Himalayas for miles. I had gone to one of the higher balconies of the hostel to look at the view and ran into some British men teaching English around India on some type of government grant. As I was talking to them, Louis came up looking for me, as we had to get our bags ready to go for our next bus ride (story to be told in another post). We start heading down the stairs towards our room, which faces the end of the staircase. Halfway down the stairs Louis whispers, “there’s a monkey in our doorway, and he has your mom’s bomb cookies.” We both froze when the monkey was leaving the doorway and noticed us staring at him, so he stared back.

Pause. So this was no zoo monkey. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a gorilla, but there was nothing tiny about this monkey. Bare butt, standing at least 3.14 feet tall, we had a serious problem.

Resume. I was fortunate enough to scramble to my video camera in time to catch the moment when Louis flips open his knife and screams, “Give the cookies back you stupid monkey!” This is where the situation got hectic, like how protest turns into a riot on the turn of a dime. Louis runs at the monkey wielding his 2 inch blade and a crazed look in his eyes as the monkey clearly thinks “…shit” and bolts away from Louis and jumps off the balcony onto an adjacent rooftop. The monkey had fled, leaving us only semi-victorious. We had routed the monkey but we had also lost our stash of homemade cookies. Furious, observing the mess of cookie crumbs that the monkey had left in stark mockery, we proceeded to curse the monkey, his kin, his monkey children, and all monkeys who may share any relation to our now mortal enemy.

Then the tides turned. As we paced around the balcony, damning the monkey and his devious ways, our nemesis returns. From the adjacent rooftop he locked into a dead stare with Louis. Naturally, Louis called him out, challenging our hairball of a rival. The monkey rudely interrupted Louis with a growl from depths which could only exist in a soulless creature. Louis, frightened like a schoolgirl in a horror film, runs from the monkey and I follow closely behind, locking ourselves in our small hostel room which proved to be the only sanctuary from the monkey.

We had officially lost. Not only had the monkey stolen our treasured cookies, but he had also chased us into our room striking the fear of God and of a rabies infection in our hearts. Now there is something you should understand about Louis. While there have been many times when he has lost a battle, he rarely passes up an opportunity to stick it to his opponent, one last time. The monkey proceeded to eat the crumbs he left the previous theft off of the floor in clear ridicule of our masculinity. Rabies or not, monkeys are not trained in strategic combat. Louis’ eyes suddenly light from his previous state of terror and lunges for the water bottle. Our window faces the balcony full of cookie crumbs, giving us a clear view of the monkey from a fortified position. Louis smiles devilishly, calling out “here monkey monkey….” He catches the monkey off guard with a squirt from the water bottle with sniper-like precision. The monkey turns to the window, pissed off and damp from Louis’ last stand, and jumps up to the window and growls, which again strikes us with fear. After numerous exchanges between Louis and the monkey, the Alamo ended in a stalemate.

Score: Cowboys, 0; Monkeys, 1

We shall have our revenge, dirty Indian mountain monkey. Beware.