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.
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