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Culture Shock

The attack happened in the early morning. I was in my room in an apartment in India, sleeping off my jet lag, dreaming of the life I’d left behind: The cool California fescue. My creek. Humans slurping smoothies in the front yard, diligently avoiding conversation with neighbors while aimlessly stroking my back. So polite and quiet. So peaceful.  My old home in Oakland: A monkey-free zone Don’t get me wrong, in the early morning India isn’t so bad. The monsoon breeze isn’t yet an oven blast.  Nitwits on the street are too