bonding with india, and then leaving it

The time has come. I am at the airport internet cafe, burning up my last rupees and trying to figure out what the last 3+ weeks were all about. I will admit a certain level of relief that I am leaving this place. It's been the most frustrating and confounding place that I have ever been. I am glad that I came and saw what it was like. I have always been curious about what life is really like here. I have seen some Bollywood flicks and have been quite enchanted by the colors and flavors that they portray. As much as Hollywood is really America, India was WAY different than the movies. It is similar in one way though. Bollywood movies, like the one I saw in the pinkest, plushest theater ever in Jaipur, involve romance, love, terrorism, action, musical interludes and comic relief. All plot types in one, and at the same time. India is like that. So many climates, people types, smelliness, yumminess, chaos, quiet, rich and poor all together, all at once.

After our time in the desert in Jodhpur, we retreated to the mountain. Mount Abu is a British-based vacation colony up where the trees grow green and the air is cool. There is a small lake, plenty of Indian style souvenir shops, and even the home base of Brahma Kumaris, the peace loving, all ideas-inclusive, cult-style religious group. Bravo, the last element, previously missing from my Indian experience. I had hoped that some form of ex-pat, find-yourself, meaning of life tourism would present itself. We visited their museum, and on a government half-day bus tour, their Peace Park facility outside of town. It was so interesting and didn't make a lick of sense to me. The museum was a collection of dollhouse style dioramas that were meant to explain the fundamentals of their beliefs. It was super weird. I could imagine though, many people coming to India and finding some sort of truth in their post-modern, anything-good goes, peace-loving community. Their website doesn't do the real place any justice. Some graphic designer clearly found their whimsical, pastel painting graphics to be, let's say, less than globally acceptable.

After spending three days enjoying the cooler temperatures, nicer hotel room with television and tea and toast morning room service we headed back down the mountain on a rather terrifying bus ride. Our destination was Udaipur, the first and only place that I ended up enjoying in this country. On a sidenote, we arrived in Mt Abu in the middle of the night, after a 3rd class train ride that I had dreaded and decided not to get into a taxi and be driven out into the wilderness, up the mountain at night. We ended up staying in a guesthouse in Abu Road, near the train station, which was clearly not a recommended location in any guidebook. The room was SICK and in the night a mouse/rat ate our cookies. It was in the top three worst places we have stayed in 7 months. The bed felt like a table, in Melissa's words, and the squat toilet was so dirty and smelly..I can't even describe it properly. We mostly just paid for the lock on the door. It is nights like that which make all the midrange, not-so-nice ones seem completely tolerable.

Udaipur, was a magical place for me. The lake and palaces were dreamy and romantic and our $5 hotel room was cheery and had a great view of a pedestrian bridge across the lake canal. It was a very touristy place, and the locals in the town center, were somehow less suffocating than normal. I think a few people said hello, then walked away from me. Other people would back off their sales pitch after one, single, 'no' from me. Incredible. The shops were fun, the views were great, and the rooftop restraunt in our hotel had floor cushions and amazing oatmeal and tea. We also went to a traditional dance show, which provided very stimulating people watching. Every traveler in town was there from a whole bunch of different countries. We played 'guess their nationality' and hoped that there would be an afterparty. I think Melissa and I are a little starved for company. The dancing was incredible too, complete with pots of fire on heads, walking on broken glass, and humorous puppet shows.

After Udaipur we spent a few more days in Ahmedabad. We found the men there to be the most obnoxious in the whole entire world. I even had to make a man move seats on the bus and face forward because he wouldn't stop staring at me. They, combined with maddening traffic, evil rickshaw drivers and the typical smog and garbage made it, well, really bad. I tried to enjoy my last Indian meals and lassis, and took heart in Seinfeld reruns and the Miss Universe pageant. I never had the dreaded Delhi Belly, I was never in a car accident and nothing was stolen. A success in a relative sense. This morning, I said goodbye to India as we rode in our last rickshaw (Indian one anyway) to the airport. Now here I sit in the Mumbai airport, waiting for my flight to Bangkok.

Thailand is calling me with a sweet and spicy song. I am so looking forward to phad thai and some solid beach time. We don't exactly have any plans yet.. Our friend Brynn had to tragically cancel her plans to join us. Melissa and I try not to think about the fun that could have been with one of our best buds. Now we are trying to press on just the two of us. Thailand for sure. Maybe Laos, maybe Vietnam. Maybe Cambodia. Maybe anywhere within a $100 flying radius of Bangkok. I feel strangely calm about our lack of direction. The next 34 days could take so many forms and I look forward to seeing it through. Perhaps the idea of home makes all possibilities tolerable. I'd like to think its some form of a new and improved adventurous spirit. Whatever it is, I feel fine and know that the last phase of this trip is going to be really fun.

rajasthan photos

India continues to baffle, confuse, interest, impress, exhaust, amaze, depress, scare and outrage me. We have spent the last week in Rajasthan visiting more opulent palaces, formidable forts, crazy bazaars and tasty restaurant. This place is so wild and the people very perplexing. Most of the time, I just can't believe my eyes.

I'll confess that the heat, the crowds, the smells, the obnoxious salesmen and taxi drivers, the traffic and the dust have driven me back to my hotel room for more hours than I would like to admit. Everyday and every hour is a challenge here and the ceiling fan or AC is often too much of a comfort to give exploring or shopping a chance. I haven't yet spent a whole day indoors though, and for that I do not feel completely defeated.

We have seen Jaipur, the pink city, and Jodhpur, the blue city. We are on our way to Mt Abu, the old British hilltop resort community for some cooling off and resting up. If I can ever get myself down from the 3000+ ft. mountain top back to the desert plains, we will visit Udaipur and the famous lake palace.

The palaces and forts continue to be my favorite element of this time in India. I had no idea that there were so many beautiful places up in the hills. You can see monkeys running atop ornate and carved palace walls and elephants carrying tourists up to fort gates. Its easy to imagine the dancers and entertainers putting shows on in the decorated, cushioned and scented rooms for turban wearing princes and their ladies.

I have 9 days left in the subcontinent before flying to Bangkok. If the constant, oppressive elements of this place don't get me too down, I hope to enjoy a few more elements of the entertaining contrast found around every corner. I also hope to enjoy more Indian food, which is as delicious as ever.

matrimonials

One of my favorite activities on the train is to read the English papers that they pass out with breakfast in 2nd class. My favorite section is by far the matrimonials. Arranged marriage is alive and well here in India. If I had married at 21 and was happily settled down, I would probably say that the system is awful and should be abolished. Considering my circumstances here at 25, I don't think I am in any place to judge. Maybe it's just what I need?

I have written an ad for myself, copied from one I found in last Sunday's Times of India. Most of the qualifiers and format is the same. Dad, if you want to publish it in the Seattle Times back home, feel free.

Wanted: Suitable match for a publicly educated, BLA - University of Washington woman, not working and currently spending all of her savings. 25 yrs, 175 cm, 68kg. Somewhat sun-weathered complexion, dutch ancestry, normal-looking American female. Father project manager civil servant in engineering. Family reputed as very jolly and well behaved. Very decent package including school debt, 37 yr old car, 8 yr old computer, and plenty of second hand household goods. Caste no bar. Seeks man from non-neurotic, fun-loving family preferably in seasonal surfing related industry. Well worn hiking boots and a sense of humor preferred. Seattle or West Coast USA. Send BHP as comment to this blog.

rajasthan and its camels

I am just overwhelmed with all that I want to write and share with you. I could carry on about the poverty here. When I am not concerned with my own health and safety my mind goes directly to considering the poor, the caste system and how the earth can survive this level of pressure from humanity. Its exhausting to be harassed by salesmen on the streets, then harassed by your own thoughts when you get inside. I have found a few positive moments and ideas to dwell on here and there and will share those instead.

The Taj Mahal was far greater than I expected, and I had wanted to see it since I was a child. It was so much bigger than I expected, the inlaid jewels were amazing, and the families there in their finest clothing getting photographs were really neat. Even the driving rain, strip search and pit that is Agra, couldn't take away from my enjoyment.

I also have enjoyed the forts and palaces of Rajasthan. We have seen a couple hilltop forts with striking vistas of desert hills and ridgeline walls. These palaces have marble screened windows, mirrored mosaics, fountains, marble statues, frescos and balconies to compete with anything I have seen in Europe or elsewhere. The difference is you can just reach out and touch these places. Or break them. So come soon if you want to see them, as they are not going to be here forever.

The monsoon has arrived as well. The day we left Delhi, there were lakes in the streets and waterfalls off the roofs. After it rains you deal with lots of steaminess. It gets so humid, you want to dissapear. But its cooler! About 20 degrees F cooler! Had I not been here to experience the intense heat, I would never be able to appreciate the rain for all the mud and puddles.

I have really come to appreciate my long, cotton, billowy, Punjabi style shirt. Melissa and I started wearing them when we went out into the rural areas of Lalitpur, and it was there that I realilzed that they were no mistake. I have since then had a whole suit; pants scarf, and long shirt made. I usually just wear the shirt. I love it because not only is it flowingly functional in the heat, but it looks really unflattering. Its like a big, baggy sack with arm holes. You wouldn't believe how the men stare here. Its rude. I feel like a tart wearing my baggiest t-shirt and hiking pants. So wearing the giant red shirt helps me to dissapear just a tiny bit. Here's to being culturally appropriate! And here's to a culture of women that have made their national dress essentially, pajamas.

I want to tell you more stories about monkeys, trains, textile shops, rain, fort palaces, camels, train stations, elephants, rickshaw rides, noise, paneer curry, street poop, AIDS homes, heat, bazaars, over the top Bollywood theaters and marble hindu gods, but I haven't the time today. The photos are held up again as well. I'll get to what I can later, or else you'll have to buy the book.

soaking in saris

Delhi continues to be soul-searingly hot. I wonder how much hotter it can really get. Surely, this must be the upper limit. Surely, this humidity means that the heat relieving monsoon will arrive soon? The city waits, somewhat impatiently, for the late rains to cool things down. I have mixed feelings, knowing that rain is cooler, but also more humid. And to imagine all the garbage and fluids on the streets pooling around my ankles is a bit terrifying. Fortunately, I have been out of the city for the past few days in a smaller city called Lalitpur. Unfortunately I am back and must stay a couple more days. But this chaos and oppressiveness is Delhi, and I have faith that better places await.

We went to Lalitpur to visit some community development projects with an organization called Emmanuel Hospital Association. We had planned out when we would be in Lalitpur, but all efforts to sort out lodging, activities or details went unrewarded. We had no idea what we were headed towards when we boarded our train for an 8 hour journey south. Now that is a long story in itself, which involves some less than G-rated commentary on my part, but I will try to recount it quickly and with taste.

We arrived at the station in over 100 degree heat, hotter on the concrete sidewalks. The station is packed with bodies laying everywhere and people rushing lines for tickets. We decide to escape the stench and wait on our platform where maybe there would be a breeze? It was chaos there too, and since then have discovered that all of India is in constant chaos. There were people everywhere!! I have never seen such an amount of burlap bags, naked children, wasted old men and tattered looking fathers, all waiting for the arrival of the Gondwana Express.

As the train pulled in and slowed, we realized that the space we had plopped down to sit on our bags was also the space that everyone in 3rd class wanted to run in to try and jump the not-yet-stopped train. Melissa was almost taken out as the more spry 3rd class passengers ran and pushed each other, in desperation for a seat on their most likely 24 hour journey. We grabbed our stuff and tried to escape by walking the other direction, sure that our 2nd class seats were in a coach, probably at the other end. We walked and walked, asked 4 different people and in the stress of being left behind, ended up getting on the wrong coach anyway. The train was a mile long and the platform a half, and the labeling was less than clear. Our coach was full of men, staring at us, but we tried to act naturally, settle in to our dingy blue vinyl seats/beds and just hoped that we wouldn't be sent to 3rd class because we were in the wrong place.

We arrived by the grace of God, unharmed and reassigned to different seats on the same coach. We were 2 hours late and got off to a dark, long platform, cluttered with the usual unfortunate souls laying here and there, waiting for trains. We didn't know whether to walk left or right, and didn't know if the people would still be there waiting for us. Lalitpur is unknown to tourist guidebooks, and we weren't sure if there were any hotels, or if anyone at the station would even speak english. Sweat pouring, we wandered at an accelerated pace and finally after 5 minutes, someone spoke to us from the shadows and we discovered it was our man. Praise God! I am not going to sleep on the ground in a scary, scary train station and be robbed and killed! We are saved! I then realized that we were not driving to a cool, clean hotel with a giant bathtub, but right to the hospital. Am I sleeping in the post-op wing or the emergency room?

Everything turned out fine in the end. We were in the care of lovely, Indian hosts that put us up in a guest cottage and drove us around for three days to see rural India. Our leader was a jovial blind man named Ranjan who was full of personality and charm. Our room was a bit shabby, without AC, infested with grasshoppers, mice, frogs and ants, and didn't have a shower, but its amazing how you adapt, isn't it? We didn't have to eat hospital meals either, as I feared, but ate with the doctors in a little dining hall.

We saw some incredible things on our visits to the villages of central India. We visited villages of different caste levels, met people working to educate about AIDS at truck stops and doctors working at the small, simple hospital where we were staying. The places I saw and people that I encountered were a part of India that I didn't expect to ever see. The work that the association was doing was very good. Water wells, farming education, composting, AIDS education, animal keeping, crop fences and more. The most memorable person that I met was a girl, 12 or 13 years old who didn't remember when she was married and held a 5 month old baby in her arms. She was so young, but nothing about her face resembled a child. She wore the clothing of a married woman and kept a house of her own. Her body was small and young and she looked tired. I just couldn't believe that anyone would marry their 9 year old daughter to an older man. I will always wonder what the circumstances were and what her future holds. Ranjan said that they were trying to assist these lower caste communities and build relationships that would be able to discourage such things from happening in the future.

The poverty here is seemingly, endless. I didn't expect it to be so obvious. At the train station, walking down the street, in front of the hotel - you see horrible things. Malnourished infants crawling through puddles, people with deformed limbs begging for food or people sleeping in the heat at the side of the road. Its a lot to deal with and I have to somehow make sense of my wanting to spend extra for air conditioning in my hotel room while people starve outside. Its uncomfortable and I don't know how to deal with it. I think that my birthright in this world as a rich, white person came with certain stipulations that I didn't realize fully until now. I will spend the rest of my life in this uncomfortable tension and will hopefully, prayerfully, figure out what I should do and what I should give. Bear with me as I work out these ideas while continuing to travel through the chaos and madness of India.

living in oven

Ice cream. Swimming pools. Glaciers. Sweaty beer. Antartica. Sledding. Fruit warehouses. Ice factories. December. Igloos. Aaaahhhhmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I am melting. Delhi is horrific oven. Didn't know it could be this hot without death. Amazing. Must be sweating 2 liters per day. Will continue drinking water, then return to hotel room and sit around in underwear for the rest of the day.

I think I saw the historic Red Fort, and the largest mosque in India, but possibly could have been heat mirage experience. The traffic is fierce, the touts are relentless and the food is spicy. We take auto rickshaws everywhere, because its too hot to walk more than 2 blocks. This is a crazy country and the true test of my skills as a traveler. I have seen my first cows wandering around eating garbage and even a few domesticated elephants working the fields off the highway. My mouth was watering at the few booths of textiles I have seen. Beautiful! Perhaps I was just thirsty though...its hard to drink enough water.

Polar bears. Mountain lakes. Dry ice. Aaaahhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.