Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Aug. 20, 2009
Hi all,
Greetings from Amritsar! Pete and I are up at the Golden Temple, which is the holiest site for Sikhs. We are leaving tomorrow to wrap up my final few days in India. So, where have we been? ...
Our parents came to India on Aug. 7 to 1) see Pete and 2) visit my Mom's friend Hansa, who has been our connection to the ashram in Delhi. Hansa has had the most incredible life and she is very giving, thoughtful and tough -- a good combination to have in India. Hansa, who is Indian, grew up in Kenya and was living in Uganda with her husband and two children (with two more on the way) when Idi Amin came to power. Because she was a U.K. citizen, Hansa and the children were able to flee to a refugee camp in London and eventually made their way to Chicago, where she was reunited with her husband. They went on to own several motels in South Bend, Indiana and now she lives in an ashram in India. She and my Mom have known each other for 35 years so they were very excited to be reunited in India. The first two days of the trip were spent getting used to India -- the heat, the bargaining and the crowds. Pete took all of us on a walk through Old Delhi, which started off well enough but sort of went down hill once the heat got to us and we took a turn down the way of all the butcher shops. Disgusting. The highlight was ... wait for it ... a bowl-full of brains. Yep, I went there.
The four of us flew to Udaipur for a tour through the desert of Rajasthan. The plane -- complete with propellers on the wings -- was just large enough for 12 1/2 rows of seats and was not equipped with air conditioning. However, beyond that, the trip was luxurious, especially compared to the mice-infested hostels with cold water and no electricity that Pete and I have learned to call home. We had a driver take us from Udaipur to Jodhpur, Jaisalmer, Jaipur and Agra and at each stop we had a guide to take us through the former palaces and forts of the maharajas. We also got the chance to ride elephants and camels. The camel ride was in Jaisalmer, which is very close to Pakistan. As we headed out for the trip, our guide announced, "We will now drive 45 kilometers toward our most friendly neighbor, Pakistan. This will be the closest day of your life to bin Laden." Well, I certainly hope so.
In Agra, we saw the Taj Mahal with our guide Vinnie. Vinnie tried to sell us marble and gem stones the whole time ("You must see how they cut marble! It's incredible!"). What was further annoying, at least to me, was that he kept talking and kept us from actually seeing one of the Seven Wonders of the World! First, let's stand outside the gate for 15 minutes and hear all about ... who knows what. Then, once we actually go inside the complex, he had us stand there and talked on for another 20 minutes ("Shah Jahan loved his wife, more than any of us could love someone. Do you know how much he loved her? When she died, he built the Taj Mahal so people could remember their love. Do you see the Taj Mahal behind me? That's what he built for her when she died because he loved her so much.") Luckily, Vinnie released us from his captivating tales just in time to tour the actual site in the pouring rain. Needless to say, it is beautiful.
Following the 10-day tour, Mom and Dad flew back to Chicago and Pete and I took the train to Amritsar. The Golden Temple is unlike any place I have ever been. The temple is surrounded by a man-made lake and marble complex. Foreign tourists are allowed to stay on site in a hostel, for free. Pete and I have been sharing a room with a poor, yacht-selling German who said he once knew a man from Chicago but that was 20 years ago. Good story dude! So, let's say you are hungry and want to eat lunch at the Golden Temple. First, you must be barefoot and your head must be covered with a turban, scarf or bandanna. Then, you head to the dining room where volunteers -- everyone here is a volunteer and everything is free -- feed 10,000 people a day. It is intense. On the way into the dining facility, you collect a plate, metal bowl and spoon. Once inside, everyone sits on thin, narrow sheets on the floor. More volunteers come by with buckets of lentils, potatoes and bread. Everything, for the most part, is eaten with your hands ... and very quickly. Everyone is done within 10-15 minutes, at which point a small zamboni-looking machine comes in to clean the floor. It is just a sea of people.
The other big thing to do in Amritsar is to go to the Pakistani border and watch the guards take down the Indian and Pakistani flags for the evening. When Pete first mentioned this activity I thought it did not sound like the best idea. You want me to go up to Pakistan? Yeah right. But, you only live once so off to the border we went with a group from the hostel. We were on a empty road that was bumpy and kind of dusty when we finally came up to what can best be described as a carnival-like atmosphere. Vendors were selling balloons, popcorn and fruit. Other guys had Indian flags, visors, wristbands. This was a MAJOR event. There were 2,000 to 3,000 people. Everyone walks down the road leading out of India ("Kindly visit again") to a makeshift security checkpoint. Then, as you get to the actual border, there are permanent concrete bleachers like you would find for a football match. Tourists get to sit in the VIP section. Similar seating is set up on the Pakistan side and the actual border is divided by two ornate fences. The whole thing was like a football match with vendors hawking sodas in the stands and a MC pumping up the crowd. Bollywood music blasted through loudspeakers as women danced in the middle of the road. There were also flag races. Ok, so as the sun started to set the main event took place. Guards on both sides of the fences would goosestep and march up to the other side like a competition. The Indian guards had helmets that were fashioned with mohawks and pants that were too short. They wore them with white socks and black shoes for a Michael Jackson-like appearance. Finally, after all of the guards have done their little dance, the Indian and Pakistan flags were lowered for the night and all the Indians rushed the road for a glimpse into Pakistan, which was visible through the open fence. It was so incredibly bizarre.
We're off tomorrow for what I hope will be an uneventful few days. On Wednesday, I will fly to London and Pete will ... well, we'll have to wait and see.
Love, Alice
Greetings from Amritsar! Pete and I are up at the Golden Temple, which is the holiest site for Sikhs. We are leaving tomorrow to wrap up my final few days in India. So, where have we been? ...
Our parents came to India on Aug. 7 to 1) see Pete and 2) visit my Mom's friend Hansa, who has been our connection to the ashram in Delhi. Hansa has had the most incredible life and she is very giving, thoughtful and tough -- a good combination to have in India. Hansa, who is Indian, grew up in Kenya and was living in Uganda with her husband and two children (with two more on the way) when Idi Amin came to power. Because she was a U.K. citizen, Hansa and the children were able to flee to a refugee camp in London and eventually made their way to Chicago, where she was reunited with her husband. They went on to own several motels in South Bend, Indiana and now she lives in an ashram in India. She and my Mom have known each other for 35 years so they were very excited to be reunited in India. The first two days of the trip were spent getting used to India -- the heat, the bargaining and the crowds. Pete took all of us on a walk through Old Delhi, which started off well enough but sort of went down hill once the heat got to us and we took a turn down the way of all the butcher shops. Disgusting. The highlight was ... wait for it ... a bowl-full of brains. Yep, I went there.
The four of us flew to Udaipur for a tour through the desert of Rajasthan. The plane -- complete with propellers on the wings -- was just large enough for 12 1/2 rows of seats and was not equipped with air conditioning. However, beyond that, the trip was luxurious, especially compared to the mice-infested hostels with cold water and no electricity that Pete and I have learned to call home. We had a driver take us from Udaipur to Jodhpur, Jaisalmer, Jaipur and Agra and at each stop we had a guide to take us through the former palaces and forts of the maharajas. We also got the chance to ride elephants and camels. The camel ride was in Jaisalmer, which is very close to Pakistan. As we headed out for the trip, our guide announced, "We will now drive 45 kilometers toward our most friendly neighbor, Pakistan. This will be the closest day of your life to bin Laden." Well, I certainly hope so.
In Agra, we saw the Taj Mahal with our guide Vinnie. Vinnie tried to sell us marble and gem stones the whole time ("You must see how they cut marble! It's incredible!"). What was further annoying, at least to me, was that he kept talking and kept us from actually seeing one of the Seven Wonders of the World! First, let's stand outside the gate for 15 minutes and hear all about ... who knows what. Then, once we actually go inside the complex, he had us stand there and talked on for another 20 minutes ("Shah Jahan loved his wife, more than any of us could love someone. Do you know how much he loved her? When she died, he built the Taj Mahal so people could remember their love. Do you see the Taj Mahal behind me? That's what he built for her when she died because he loved her so much.") Luckily, Vinnie released us from his captivating tales just in time to tour the actual site in the pouring rain. Needless to say, it is beautiful.
Following the 10-day tour, Mom and Dad flew back to Chicago and Pete and I took the train to Amritsar. The Golden Temple is unlike any place I have ever been. The temple is surrounded by a man-made lake and marble complex. Foreign tourists are allowed to stay on site in a hostel, for free. Pete and I have been sharing a room with a poor, yacht-selling German who said he once knew a man from Chicago but that was 20 years ago. Good story dude! So, let's say you are hungry and want to eat lunch at the Golden Temple. First, you must be barefoot and your head must be covered with a turban, scarf or bandanna. Then, you head to the dining room where volunteers -- everyone here is a volunteer and everything is free -- feed 10,000 people a day. It is intense. On the way into the dining facility, you collect a plate, metal bowl and spoon. Once inside, everyone sits on thin, narrow sheets on the floor. More volunteers come by with buckets of lentils, potatoes and bread. Everything, for the most part, is eaten with your hands ... and very quickly. Everyone is done within 10-15 minutes, at which point a small zamboni-looking machine comes in to clean the floor. It is just a sea of people.
The other big thing to do in Amritsar is to go to the Pakistani border and watch the guards take down the Indian and Pakistani flags for the evening. When Pete first mentioned this activity I thought it did not sound like the best idea. You want me to go up to Pakistan? Yeah right. But, you only live once so off to the border we went with a group from the hostel. We were on a empty road that was bumpy and kind of dusty when we finally came up to what can best be described as a carnival-like atmosphere. Vendors were selling balloons, popcorn and fruit. Other guys had Indian flags, visors, wristbands. This was a MAJOR event. There were 2,000 to 3,000 people. Everyone walks down the road leading out of India ("Kindly visit again") to a makeshift security checkpoint. Then, as you get to the actual border, there are permanent concrete bleachers like you would find for a football match. Tourists get to sit in the VIP section. Similar seating is set up on the Pakistan side and the actual border is divided by two ornate fences. The whole thing was like a football match with vendors hawking sodas in the stands and a MC pumping up the crowd. Bollywood music blasted through loudspeakers as women danced in the middle of the road. There were also flag races. Ok, so as the sun started to set the main event took place. Guards on both sides of the fences would goosestep and march up to the other side like a competition. The Indian guards had helmets that were fashioned with mohawks and pants that were too short. They wore them with white socks and black shoes for a Michael Jackson-like appearance. Finally, after all of the guards have done their little dance, the Indian and Pakistan flags were lowered for the night and all the Indians rushed the road for a glimpse into Pakistan, which was visible through the open fence. It was so incredibly bizarre.
We're off tomorrow for what I hope will be an uneventful few days. On Wednesday, I will fly to London and Pete will ... well, we'll have to wait and see.
Love, Alice
Aug. 4, 2009
Hi all,
I've made it a month in India! Pete and I are taking a train back to New Delhi tonight so we can meet up with our parents and travel through the state of Rajasthan and then on to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. This last week, Pete and I toured Varanasi and Calcutta, two major highlights of the trip so far.
Rollin' on the River: Life in Varanasi revolves around the Ganges. People bathe in it, pray to it, light candles and give offerings. The best way to see all of those ceremonies is to take a row boat out at dawn, which Pete and I did on our first full day here. All along the river are thousands of Hindus praying, bathing and doing their laundry. I'm curious how clean the clothes actually get because this is how laundry is done: dunk clothing in the river, twist it and then use a stick to beat it against a rock. And, just as the river banks are lined with Indians, the water is lined with row boats stuffed with Western tourists, watching and photographing every moment.
This is Marketplace: Another major thing in Varanasi are the markets. Hidden behind the street in narrow alleys, there are stalls selling clothing, spices, bangles, toys, food, silks and offerings for a super secret temple in the middle of the chaos. I say super secret temple because it is surrounded by armed guards and non-Hindus are not allowed to go inside. Outside each entrance are signs that list items forbidden inside the temple: explosives, knvies, pens and coconuts. Seriously. I ventured into one bangle shop and did quite well ... about 20 bracelets for $1.50. Leaving the market we took our first (and only) ride in a bicycle rickshaw.
I didn't plan to visit Calcutta (Kolkata) on this trip but it was a 14 hour train ride away so I figured why not? And, as it turns out, it was one of the best places we've visited so far. It was (relatively) clean, based on Indian standards and compared to other cities. We walked through the city's park, visited the Victoria Memorial and saw Mother Teresa's grave. Most importantly (just kidding), we were able to do some shopping. I packed light for this trip -- four shirts and two pairs of pants. So, after wearing basically the same thing every day for a month, I now have two more pants and T-shirts. Big stuff.
Other highlights: We tried freshly squeezed sugar cane juice on the street. Delicious. Also, I was rejected from a pub for being a woman. "No ladies, no ladies!" Fantastic. And, we took a ride in a rickshaw pulled by a man in flip flops. Kind of a bumpy ride but well worth it for the experience.
That's it for now!
Love, Alice
July 28, 2009
Hi all,
Hello from Varanasi, the holy Hindu city situated along the Ganges River. Pete and I arrived late this morning and were greeted by monkeys as we checked into our hostel. We also saw children playing with a goat as if it were a dog, hugging his neck and pulling his leg. After a quick lunch of veggies, roti and lentils, we headed down to the Ganges to watch the cremation ceremonies. So, how did we get here?
When we left Goa, we also left our plans to travel south. The monsoons proved to be too much for us. So, we headed north, back through Mumbai (aka hell on earth) and on to Aurangabad. It was there that we toured the Bibi Ka Maqbara, a tomb that is a small scale replica of the Taj Mahal, watched another Bollywood flick and went to the Ellora Caves, a collection of Buddhist, Hindu and Jain caves from about the 8th Century. We took a very long and bumpy rickshaw ride up a mountain to get there, but they were amazing – huge carvings of Shiva, elephants and columns. We climbed a gushing waterfall and watched cows graze on the side of the mountain.
Two very long train rides later, we arrived in Bhopal, made famous by the 1984 gas leak that killed 5,000 people. Today, there are mosques to tour and bazaars to wander through. We did both but really we used the few days there as a time out from India. We took hot showers, watched American movies on TV and ordered room service. Why did we need a timeout from Incredible India?
Peter Scott: Superstar: So, Westerns tend to attract a lot of unwanted attention here and we are no different. Pete and I were waiting for a midnight train in Manmad (which we of course renamed Mad Man!). We were sitting on top of our backpacks on the platform when a couple of guys came over to talk to Pete. I continued to read my Indian copy of People magazine and the next time I looked up there were more than a dozen guys surrounding us. They wanted Pete to play his guitar, which he did, and of course that attracted a large crowd … like 40 dudes. Then, they sort of got aggressive. “Take a photo with us! One more, one more!” “Sing!” They wouldn’t leave until an older group of men told them off. In the morning, when we got to Bhopal, three rickshaws attempted to run us over in order to get a fare. They literally came within a half an inch of us and started yelling “Rickshaw! You need rickshaw!?” This has happened before but you can only take so much of it. The last straw was as we were walking through town, a motorcycle blocked our way as we tried to cross the street. We went around the bike and driver and the guy followed us, yelling “What country? What country?” And then a rickshaw crashed into him. God has a sense of humor.
Other random things:
No Woman, No … Where: There were no women in Bhopal. During the day there might be a handful but in the evening, about 8 or 9 p.m., hundreds of men would hang out on the street, drinking tea or just shootin’ the breeze but there were absolutely no women. Very strange.
Carrot Top: In the U.S., it is not uncommon for men or women to dye their gray hair as they get older. Indians are no different except that when they dye their hair, it is a bright orange color … anywhere from burnt rust to neon orange. Also, skin lightening creams are huge here.
Dude Looks Like a Lady: I could write an entire volume on the trains here because they are insane. Of the many, many characters on trains, there is one particular group that brings comic relief. Assuming that people are more likely to give money to a woman than a man, dudes will cross dress in full saris, jewelry and makeup and demand money from train passengers. They particularly go after the men, who are as much entertained as they are freaked out by it. And they do well – I always see these ladies/men get lots of money.
We'll be in Varanasi for a few days, then probably off to Calcutta. Our parents arrive next week so we'll be headed back to Delhi to start our trip of western India. There is much, much more to write but that’s it for now.
July 18, 2009
Hi all,
Good times in Goa. No monsoon can keep me and Pete from having fun. We took the train to Goa and headed to an area called Colva Beach. It's a destination frequented by locals -- generally not tourists -- on the west coast of India. Our hotel was a short walk to the beach and considered "nice," which means they supplied us with towels and one roll of towel paper. Fancy! The hot water was only available between 7 and 10 a.m. and the electricity worked 65 percent of the time so ... that's India for you. Next to the hotel was a large field where water buffalo grazed next to wild dogs and roosters. We also had the opportunity to run into an incredibly large pig and her five piglets on the road one afternoon. So, on our first full day in Goa ...
How Sweet the Sound: We got a car and driver and decided to go see the sights. We toured two Hindu temples, one of which was dedicated to Shiva. A guru of some sort took us on an impromptu tour and gave us a basic lesson in Hinduism, most of which I'm sure Pete learned on his first day of college as a religions minor. As most of Goa is Roman Catholic (a religion left over from the Portuguese) we saw huge cathedrals, old graveyards with stone crosses and images of Jesus everywhere. The best example of the region's dedication to the religion was found in our driver's car ... every time he put the car in reverse a computerized version of Amazing Grace played.
Paparazzi: Pete and I had a great day with the tour and a leisurely lunch. When we got back to the hotel, we decided to enjoy the sunshine by walking to the beach and having some ice cream (Pete's all time favorite food and comfort). As we crossed the bridge to the sand, we saw a large group of Indian men having their picture taken with a blonde tourist. This is very big in India -- locals always want to take pictures with Westerners because we are such oddities. When it's men, though, it creeps me out. As Pete and I walked toward the water, this huge dude came rushing over yelling "One photo! One photo!" We said no and the guy was very persistent so he got a sterner "No!" At this point, I realized that my ice cream had melted all down my hand, shirt and pants. Then, an enormous wave from the sea crashed over us. In the middle of the mess, the big guy came back and got a "NO!!" shouted in his face for being so rude and aggressive. Frustrated and agitated, Pete and I sat down on a stone wall for a break and ... immediately an Indian family moved up next to us and had the dad take our picture.
Clapton by Candlelight: We recovered from our debacle at the beach and later in the night went for dinner at a beachside shack. It was a great dinner, except that the power kept going out. We were eventually able to get a candle on the table and then the whole thing was sort of charming. Throughout all the outages, the restaurant's music managed to stay on and Eric Clapton serenaded the whole meal.
We are now in Baga Beach, which is about 60 kilometers north of Colva. It is known as being the destination for backpackers and hippies. We spent the morning on the beach, then rented a scooter to tour the area. Pete was the brave driver. Not only did we have to adjust to driving on the left side of the road, but there are trucks, cars, bikers, pedestrians and cows to maneuver around. And, driving on the left side of the road is more like a suggestion than a rule.
We leave tomorrow but where we will go is still up in the air. But, we'll be back in Delhi in just a few weeks when my parents come to experience India for themselves.
Love, Alice
July 14, 2009
Hi all,
The adventure continues. Pete and I leave Mumbai tonight for Goa. The past few days have been interesting ...
Bollywood: While we were still in Delhi, Pete and I decided to check out a real Bollywood film. As we went into the theater, there was a bag search and pat down. Guess who forgot to take out her camera before going to the movies? I asked the guard if there was any where to store my camera and he said sure, around the corner. I left Pete and headed around the corner where all I saw were makeshift stalls selling cigarettes and gum. I asked the man behind the counter if there was a storage facilty. Yep, he said. Where? Oh, right here. Great. I did leave the camera but was definitely worried about the fact that the guy checked it out before taking it. (Everything was fine in the end). The movie itself was great -- dramatic, silly, and tons of dancing and singing. And, just when we thought the movie was over, there was an intermission.
We had an uneventful train ride to Mumbai but when we got off the train ...
Slumdog, no Millionaire: Pete, the world traveler, said let's find an Internet cafe and look up hostels, something I thought had already been taken care of. Pete led the way and took us on a tour of the slums of the city. It was by far the worst thing I have ever seen. Imagine a landfill with muddy roads, a constant traffic flow of taxis, cows and dogs, beggars, naked children, homes built literally in the gutter, men "showering" on the sidewalk, noise and the worst smells imaginable. Add to that some "tension" been the two of us. We eventually took a cab and got a hostel behind the Taj Mahal Hotel, which was one of the sights on December's terrorist attack. We had tea at Leopold's Cafe, which was also a target of the attack. There are two large bulletholes left in the front window as a reminder.
Mumbai is pretty gross so we went for a day trip to the Karla Cave, something Pete had heard about.
Three (Million) is a Crowd: Karla Cave is in Lonavla, about a 2 1/2 hour train ride from Mumbai. Our train was barebones -- wooden benches, metal luggage racks and broken windows. We were about the only people on the train when the journey began but slowly it filled up. First, people had seats. Then, they started sitting on the luggage racks. When those got full, they stood in the aisle, sat on the floor, shared seats and hung out the train doorways. All the time, men were rushing through the aisles to sell hot tea and candy. Outside the train, it was peaceful and goregous. Huge mountains and lush valleys with rushing waterfalls and monkeys. Because of the rain there was a light mist along the mountain tops. We eventually made it to Lonavla and one rickshaw ride later we were at the base of a mountain, where we climbed stone steps to the top and there was the cave, a Buddhist temple dating back to the 1st Century B.C. It was amazing -- stone carvings of the Buddha and elephants, huge rounded arches and pillars. Just beautiful.
Without a Paddle: Getting back took 5 hours (not worth explaining) and by the time we were in Mumbai, the monsoon had hit. I've never seen rain like this. Just constant -- like walking through a shallow river while someone dumps buckets of water over your head. Of course, Pete and I were the only two idiots without a umbrella. Thank goodness for quick-drying shirts and pants (the same cannot be said for bags, scarves or shoes).
We're on the midnight train to Goa so, much more to come.
Love, Alice
July 10, 2009
Hi all,
A quick note to let you know that I arrived in New Delhi. Pete and I are staying at an ashram and tomorrow we are taking a 16-hour train ride to Mumbai. Pete and I are learning to compromise this way:
Pete: "We don't need air conditioning on the train. We'll take second class seats."
Alice: "Yeah, I want A/C."
Pete: "No, that's expensive."
Alice: "I'll pay for your ticket."
Pete: "Well, I can't stop you from doing that."
Everything is going really well but the word of the week is overwhelming. The heat, the traffic, sounds, everything. We toured Old Delhi, which looked like it was straight out of a movie with rickshaws, goats, thousands of people and stalls where people were selling goods and making food. The two best things we saw all day were probably the sidewalk dentists putting a gold tooth into a woman's mouth and an animal that we named a gonkesouras -- it looked part donkey, part goat and part dinosaur.
We've braved the subway. Before you can board, you have to go through a pat down search -- one line for "gents" and one for ladies -- then all the bags need to go through a metal detector. The trains themselves are huge and very clean -- cleaner than anything in NYC or Chicago.
We had an amazing breakfast this morning literally in a hole in the way. A man was showering next to the booths. Freshly baked bread with potatoes and spices, yellow lentils and a sweet dish that can best be described as a very moist bread that crumbles when you cut into it. It tasted like sugar and nuts. We got a second order -- that's how good it was -- and our total at the restaurant was 15 rupees ... which is less than 50 cents. I got a henna tattoo at another shop and while we waited for it to dry, Pete made friends with the owner and helped him out with his sales technique. "You need to highlight the price," Pete said, before writing up a new sign for the window.
Cows and goats in the street, auto rickshaws, bargaining, constant staring and insane heat ... it's pretty great.
Much more in the weeks to come.
Love, Alice
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