Saturday, February 28, 2009

"OM, MY GOD!"







Tuesday, February 24 at 22:44

Kevin

Seeing as our original driver for the Rajasthan car tour, Charlie, had to cut out early to attend a wedding, we were dropped off on our final day by our new driver, Yogish, right back where the whole thing started, Paharganj, New Delhi. This time we stepped out of the vehicle with complete confidence and purpose. We knew where we were, what we were doing and everything was familiar. We returned to Hotel Namaskar, raved about our car tour, had a thali (meal) for dinner and retired early in order to make our 6:50am train. Well, 6:50 came all too early, as they usually do, and we found ourselves dragging our groggy, exhausted bodies down the lovely main bazaar thoroughfare (read sarcasm) and into the early morning New Delhi traffic to try and survive a walk to the train station. Not only does the pedestrian not have the right-of-way in India, he is considered a nuisance and is to be dealt with accordingly! By the grace of God and some learned behaviors, we made it to our train, which was conveniently located at the furthest platform. Without much effort, we were on the proper coach and in the assigned seats. The steady stream of snacks, tea and food started on take off and did not ease up until landing, which came at about four and one half hours later at 11:25am.

We had arrived in the north Indian city of Haridwar, which was our connecting point to the bus that would lead us to Rishikesh, which is the connecting point for the shared auto rickshaw, or vikram, that would lead us to Lakxmanjhula, which is where we would be once again reuniting with our Aussie friend, Nic, who had kindly made a reservation for us at Dharm Yatri Niwas. As luck would have it, there was nobody to share the “shared” auto-rickshaw, so the driver was kind enough to charge us the full amount anyways. After a short, but expensive, ride we had finally arrived at the suspension foot bridge that would lead us home. A quick phone call to Nic and we were reunited and headed for the hotel.

At first glance we liked what we saw. Rishikesh is an area comprised of several districts, Laxmanjhula, where we would be staying, Shivananda Nagar, home to the famous Shivananda yoga ashram, Muni-Ki-Reti, Ram Jhula and Swarg Ashram, where the Beatles visited and met the Maharishi in 1968. Rishikesh is also a way-station for sannyasin (a homeless, ascetic Hindu without possessions), yogis (yoga practitioners) and people, such as ourselves, who are heading for the high Himalayas. The four districts are neatly tucked into a valley flanked by low mountains on each side and the mighty, and very holy, Ganges river running swiftly in the basin. This is the same river that eventually winds its way down to Varanasi, another future location and holy city, where it becomes horribly polluted by industrial chemicals, raw sewage and the dead carcasses of animals and humans. However, this far north, and close to the source, it is relatively clean and shockingly cold.

The beginnings of our adventures in Rishikesh were quite touristic. On day one, we walked as far south as you could possibly go, ending at a point where a sharp cliff clashed with the rocky shore of the Ganges River. We three, took time to settle a bit and admire the view. Seeing as Nic just completed a Buddhism course in a Nepalese Monastery and we are preparing to enter one in Dharamkot, Idalis and Nic delved into deep conversations concerning spirituality, Buddhism, the Dalia Lama and Tibetan history. Nic is a bit of an authority on Buddhism as she has studied it extensively. And Idalis loves to pick her brain in an effort to better understand. Meanwhile, I was hopping from boulder to boulder along the shore of the Ganges, dipping my feet, washing my face and rummaging through the various forms of ceremonial refuse that litters the shore. Prior to heading back, I was approached by a sadhu (holy man) who was quite interested in squatting with me on the rocks and talking philosophy, religion and life. He said his name was Swami and in spite of us being from completely different worlds, we had a great conversation and I was happy to get the chance to speak to him. That evening, Idalis and I dropped into a Hatha yoga class to see what it was all about. Our teacher, Sandeep, was a young, flexible, effeminate Indian man, with a cute pot belly, that put us through our paces. Hatha yoga is a bit gentler than the Ashtanga we were used to, but we still felt ourselves challenged to follow along through the unfamiliar postures, somewhat unique sun salutations and the “om” chants between every move. Sandeep's voice was soft and soothed our minds as our bodies twisted and contorted. His gentle persuasions to, “try make balance”, “little try?”, and “feeling, experience peace and happinessssssss”, made our class truly enjoyable. Personally, I found my favorite part of Hatha yoga being the savasana pose at the end. As I laid flat on my back, Sandeep slipped in orders to totally relax my body and sink into the Earth. He then proceeded to walk me, and the rest of the class, through the independent relaxation of every single part of the body. I fell fast asleep by third toe, right side of body!

After being awoken by Idalis and told to gather my things, we headed out to meet up with Nic for dinner. On the way, we stopped by a store, just out of curiosity, and ended up doing a bit of shopping. Idalis got a new top and I got two new shirts to replace the ones I donated in Pushkar. Dinner was at the Pyramid Cafe and was fairly uneventful. However, on the walk home, we were inspired to stop and get chocolate bars and go to Nic's room to watch some television. We three laid in bed as we watched COPS, shot on location in Texas, Top Chef, which happened to be a Miami Beach edition, and the Millionaire Matchmaker. In between fits of laughter we were almost brought to tears thinking that this is the type of programming that is making its way into India and shaping the Indians, and any visiting tourist with the fortitude to watch, views of what America is and how Americans are. A very sad prospect when you actually stop to think about it.

The very next day we walked north, though not as far as it goes, since the road goes on into the mountains. However, we did walk far enough to find a path through the wooded mountain side that lead to a water fall that collected in small pools all the way down to the Ganges river. The water actually looked clear and clean enough that it taunted me to enter it for a bath, which I did. I broke down to my skivies and jumped into the fresh, crisp water and let the water fall pour down over my head and down my back, almost losing my underwear in the strong stream. After our exhilarating hike, we headed back to the town we were staying, Laxmanjhula, but stopped long enough to enjoy some fresh chai at the street stall, watch a few river rafters negotiate the rapids below and have a close call with an angry red-assed monkey.

We also made it a point to try and dine at a separate restaurant for each meal eventually whittling down to our favorites, all of which were quite tasty and very affordable. In fact, on the day before we would leave, we returned to the same restaurants that we had our original breakfast and dinner once arriving. Our breakfast was at the Ganga View restaurant, which is a bit of a watering hole for the local devotees. In addition to a super fresh bowl of muesli, fruit, curd and honey, you can actually participate in conversations surrounding theology, philosophy, sociology, anthropology and spirituality, in addition to meeting a rather diverse collection of characters from around the globe. And that, we did. In our final sitting, we were joined by Erika and Bjorn from Sweden, and Hussein and his friend (whose name we missed) from Iran (via Sweden and Germany). The breakfast culminated in an incredibly interesting conversation surrounding each persons struggle to get where they are today, in sharing each others opinions and understandings of each others countries and an invitation to join a satsang, more or less a Q&A session, in the Sacha Ashram of Shanti Mayi. Originally, Rishikesh was, and still is, a holy site for the Hindus and a pilgrimage spot for people around the world who wish to bathe in the Ganges to cleanse their spirit. Coincidentally, it also became a point of pilgrimage for westerners seeking a Guru, spiritual enlightenment or any variation of spiritual awakening. Shanti Mayi is a result of this quest and is a devotee and student of the Maharaji who has run an ashram for over twenty years, imparting her knowledge on anyone interested in receiving it, the bulk of which seem to be wealthy, middle aged westerners.

Wanting to step outside of the tourist realm and experience this Rishikesh thing, Idalis, Nic and I agreed to meet Erika and Bjorn for this truly unique experience. We entered the ashram through the large security gate, took a tour of the garden and housing complex and nestled into our spot on the floor with our individual area rugs to provide comfort. At first, the crowd was thin and there was plenty of space to spread out. The afternoon began with chanting lead by the devotees and accompanied by music provided by traveling musicians. The chant went, “Prabhu aapa jago, paramatma jago, mere sarva jago, sarvatra jago, prabhu aapa jago, paramatma jago.”, which translates to, “Oh, God awake! Awake within me! You are everywhere in all places. Awake!” This went on for about half an hour until we were all prompted to rise for the grand entrance of Shant Mayi. I should probably also say that Shanti Mayi is an American ex-patriate. I am not sure how that fits into the story, but I thought you should know that one of the most famous Gurus in Rishikesh, India, is a blonde, middle aged, American woman. The afternoon continued, after her entrance, with a passing around of the microphone for questions, comments, and rather shallow attempts to discuss the philosophies of life. All in all, I think we were all three glad that we experienced such a thing, but needless to say, none of us are ready to make the leap into the devotee role.

We concluded our final evening with dinner at the Freedom Cafe, where we had our first dinner, completing the circle, and retired for our final night in Rishikesh after an evening of great food and great conversation. The next morning would find us waking early to begin packing and I would run down to the Ganges River for a very cold and refreshing dip in the 54 degree water, with an air temp of 44 degrees. They say it cleanses the soul, I would have to agree.

Today we leave for Dhamsala in the north. Not to be disappointed, India has again ushered up a challenging travel day with a 16:30 train that will drop us off in Chakki Bank at 2:30am where we will sit for an hour and a half waiting for the first bus to Dharmsala that leaves at 4:00 am and takes about three hours to arrive. Hopefully our new spiritual awakenings will help to alleviate the exhaustion. If not, our anxiousness and anticipation to enter the Buddhist center should help! Please be advised that we will be out of touch for at least ten days, as it is the center's policy that contact from outside be suspended for the duration of the course. We promise to upload a new blog entry, detailing our experiences, once we have received our enlightenment!!!!!!

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

DESERT STORM: A TOUR THROUGH RAJASTHAN PART III

Sunday, February 22, 2009 @ 18:10 PM

Idalis:

Whew! We just arrived a few hours ago back into Delhi, after completing our 18 day Rajasthan tour. Kevin and I are so happy we decided to spend the extra rupees and see it this way. We were able to see a lot of the country side, mostly very poor villages. Along the way, we saw countless men squatting at tea stalls, women balancing huge pots on their heads, happy children bathing next to the village's one pump, and high piles of cow dung patties drying in the sun. Here are some of the highlights of the last leg:

Pushkar, Rajasthan





Pushkar is considered to be one of India's most sacred sights. According to legend, Pushkar was created when Lord Brahma (the creator) dropped a lotus flower to earth from his hand. Where the petals landed, three lakes formed. During the full-moon phase of October/November, pilgrims come from all over the country to bathe in these holy waters, believing they cleanse the soul of all impurities. It's also the sight of the yearly Pushkar festival, the largest camel market in the world, with over 150,000 people attending! The rest of the year, it seems, Pushkar is a place to buy souvenirs, get harassed by fake priests, and score pot.

The first thing Kevin and I did before leaving our hotel room and hitting the streets was to tie a red string around our wrists. Why, you ask? As Pushkar is a prime tourist destination as well as being a holy city, local Brahmin priests are pushy about having you perform “Pushkar puja,” which includes throwing flower petals into the lake while repeating prayers, and then giving a “donation,” which entitles you to the red string around your wrist. Some of these self-proclaimed priests are fake, and will ask you how many members there are in your family, say a blessing for each, and then charge you for each family member piece-meal! Despite our hand-made “Pushkar passports”, we still had one “priest” harass us after he gave us a flower and we refused to go down to the lake with him. We waved our red-stringed wrists in the air to show we had already done this, but the phony still yelled at us for not giving him baksheesh. Oh well!

Despite the phonies, Pushkar was a pleasant enough town. The blue buildings, reflected in the holy waters, look best as the sun is setting. Kevin and I enjoyed spending time at our quiet hotel's deck and looking over the lake. We got to see our second Rajasthani song and dance show at the Sai Baba Haveli. As this included a buffet dinner, the 150 rupee ($3) price tag was unbeatable! One night, Kevin had the idea to go to the stairs of the ghats to watch the sunset, as we had seen many people do. We thought it would be a peaceful experience. We should know by now! Our “peaceful” sunset was interrupted by various hawkers selling carved elephants, singing songs, or offering pot. So much for a private moment!

Jaipur, Rajasthan




Jaipur had a lot of historical sights to see, but the streets were extremely dirty and congested. Thanks to Charlie, our driver, we were able to get to the sights hassle-free and see them all in a day. We saw Hawa Mahal, or “Palace of the Winds,” built for royal Muslim women to watch street processions while still remaining in purdah (veiled). We walked up to the Amber Palace and Fort, and had beautiful views of the city below, and had fun watching other tourists uncomfortably ascend on top of ornately-costumed elephants. We visited City Palace and Jantar Mantar, which contains eighteen huge astronomical measuring devices built for the Maharaj. As I have little patience for complicated math and science, I didn't understand most of the sundials and observatory, but the shapes were interesting and futuristic-looking. Kevin kept saying what a great skate park the place would be!

Our favorite part of the day, though, was going to the Raj Mandir Cinema, one of India's most famous movie theaters, to see a real Bollywood film! Although “Billu the Barber” was in Hindi, we still had a great time, sitting in plush seats (they're assigned!) and stuffing our faces with popcorn (only 20 rupees!). The only bad part was that when I went to the bathroom, my sunglasses slipped off my head and slid down squat toilet. Needless to say, I'm now in the market for a new pair of cheap shades.

One night, Charlie took us to his favorite Muslim dabha (roadside eatery) for spicy mutton and the fluffiest chapatis ever. I tried not to look around (I was the only female) but enjoyed the meal, nonetheless. Kevin seemed to also, but that night woke up with horrible vomiting, diarrhea, and fever. The worst of it lasted only 24 hours, but since we still had to continue moving, it made for an uncomfortable journey the next day, and he found himself squatting in the middle of mustard fields on the side of the road. I'm happy to report he's feeling 99% better and so are the mustard fields.

Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh




After changing our plans slightly (arriving in but leaving Agra the next morning), we decided to go to the city of Khajuraho next, which Kevin and I were really looking forward to. A UNESCO World Heritage Site, Khajuraho is home to about 22 temples, which have erotic sculptures carved into them. Although we had read about the aggressiveness of touts and sellers, Kevin and I found it to be a pleasant enough town. We loved the temples with their ornate and finely detailed titillating carvings, including sinuous nymphs and gods, and sexual positions that seemed to defy gravity. The temples were beautiful and the grounds were pretty, with bougainvillea dotting them. Our simple hotel, Zen, had a nice courtyard complete with a garden and lotus pond. Even more exciting, though, was the cable television in our room! Kevin and I, not having watched TV for months, were entranced by the BBC and bad movies we would never watch back home. For us, it was a nice stop, and a rest in what had become a fast-paced car tour.

Orchha, Madhya Pradesh





On our way back to Agra, we stopped in the city of Orccha, also known for its historical temples, just not of the erotic variety. Although not the “tranquil countryside” the guidebook would have you believe – What in India is? - it was a nice stop. We visited Chatturbuj Mandir, a crumbling old majestic temple with arched balconies and high ceilings. One of the local young guides broke into a locked door and took us up to the temple's rooftop (for a bit of baksheesh, of course) and Kevin and I got great views of the aging palaces, temples, and tombs of Orchha. We even found a quiet spot! After walking behind the grounds of Raj Mahal palace, Kevin and I found a weed-choked path that lead to the River Betwa. We sat for a few minutes and enjoyed something we hadn't experienced for a very long time: silence.

Agra, Uttar Pradesh




The town of Agra itself is a disgusting, hot mess. But it was worth it to see the Taj Mahal! It was built by Shah Jahan in memory of his favorite wife, who died shortly after giving birth to her fourteenth child in 1631. Devastated by her death, the monument stands as the ultimate tribute to love.

We woke up at 5 AM that morning to see the Taj Mahal at sunrise. We took a cycle-rickshaw at dawn and made our way down the dark streets, huddled together because of the early morning cold. The long lines and 750 rupee price tag were worth it. When we walked through the arched entrance and first laid eyes on it, I cried. It is beautiful, and the white marble structure is absolutely perfect. All of the hoopla that has ever been said about it is true. It is the most beautiful man-made structure I have ever seen, and it deserves all of the attention it receives. Although there were crowds of people, the environment was surprisingly peaceful, and Kevin and I walked around the grounds, went inside the mausoleum, and tried to view it from every angle imaginable. We sat down, held hands, and thanked our lucky stars for this amazing opportunity. Not even the hundreds of touts could spoil our mood, and as we walked out of the complex, it was as if the Red Sea itself were parting, and miraculously, no one bothered us with Taj Mahal key chains or fake marble boxes.

Our car tour has ended. It was a good way to see Rajasthan, which is densely packed with many sights, tourists, and endless unfriendly hawkers. We're taking a break from the sights now, and are heading further north to Rishikesh for some yoga and (relative) relaxation, and a reunion with our Australian friend, Nic. Stay tuned!

Friday, February 20, 2009

DESERT STORM: A TOUR THROUGH RAJASTHAN PT.II (The Land of the “PUR's”)

Monday, February 16, 2009 @ 20:05

Kevin and Idalis:

Welcome back! We have decided to write this blog post together from the comfort of the only couch we have sat on in India. It is conveniently situated at the foot of our king size bed and within reach of the wall outlet. Bollywood music from the wedding at the hotel next door is blasting and permeating every open nook and cranny in our 500 rupee a night room. It seems as if this is high wedding season in India. There are at least four separate weddings going on withing a stone's throw of each other. We have seen a virtual fleet of highly decorated vehicles, horses and elephants comprising the various forms of transportation available to Indian newlyweds. Sorry, we digress...

Jodhpur






Another several hours in our Fiat and we were lucky enough to arrive in Jodhpur, also known as the blue city named as such due to the blue tint of the houses belonging to the Brahmin (Priestly) cast. They are clearly visible from the top of the Meherangarh Fort, where we arrived only two hours before closing time, which turned out to be just enough time to complete the surprisingly excellent audio tour, walk a portion of the bastions and visit the Temple of Chamunda, which is perched on the edge of a cliff and affords striking views of the city below. Having arrived in the city so late and having only one evening to spend, we were not able to see all that the city of Jodhpur has to offer, aside from seeing both the Royal Palace, known as Umaid Bhawan Palace and the marble monument known as Jaswant Thanda from the top of the Fort, a great distance away.

We did have time, however, to walk amongst the tight and narrow city streets, even being invited in to one of the Brahmin's blue houses for a quick visit and barrage of questioning. The streets near the center of town are loud, crowded, hustling and chaotic. They are strewn with markets, vendors and of course, touts! We did stop, however, to enjoy one of the city's famous makhania lassis, made with cream saffron and cardamom. We also stopped into Shriganesham to purchase a silk and wool combination shawl. We concluded our extremely short stay in Jodphur with dinner on the roof top restaurant of Shivam Guest House and retired into our immaculate 300 rupee ($6) a night room at the Ganpati Guest House.

Ranakpur





In the middle of our transit from Jodhpur to Udaipur, we stopped for exactly one and one half hour to marvel at the Jain temples of Ranakpur. They were built in 1439 according to measurements based on the number 72, the age at which the founder of Jainism, Mahavira, achieved nirvana. The most impressive of the structures being the main temple which consisted of marble pillars, shrines and domed ceilings showcasing some of the most amazing and intricate carving patterns we have seen to date. The main temple was peaceful, quiet and sobering, allowing us a short time to sit in absolute stillness and once again give thanks for our many, many blessings!

Udaipur






At first glance our next destination was a bit of a let down. Udaipur is considered India's most romantic city. According to the guide book, majestic palaces appear to float in the center of the vast Lake Pichola, which is buffeted by ornately balconied hotels and white washed havelis. The truth is far less ideal. Lake Pichola is far below its normal water level exposing the mass tangle of trash, debris and muck. The Lal Ghat area, where we stayed, is very loud, including the speakers for the local mosque which were right outside our window and began their melodic call to prayer at 5:30am and at about 125 decibels. And the beautiful floating palaces did not seem quite so beautiful once we realized that the minimum for a one night stay is approximately 500 US dollars!

It was not all bad though. We had a great time and ended up actually liking Udaipur very much. The people were friendly and accommodating, including the shopkeepers at the myriad of shops that we found ourselves shopping in. We purchased more things in our two days in Udaipur than we have in our entire stay in India. And, best of all, did not have to negotiate even once as the prices, we felt, were very fair for what we were getting. We stopped shopping just long enough to actually catch the sunset at the decaying, yet under renovation, Monsoon Palace, formally named Sajjangarh. We shared this special moment with a small group of tourists, including a very nice French couple, and two small groups of curious, ogling, prepubescent acting Indian men.

On our last day in Udaipur we visited City Palace, which in itself was not all that fascinating, however, we were privy to the goings on of the preparations for an Indian wedding that was scheduled to happen that evening. It was clear from the level of décor and bling that this particular Rajasthani father was in debt up to his eyeballs! We also were witness to the complete meltdown of a blonde haired foreign tourist girl, in the street, as we sat in an adjacent internet cafe. She just kept yelling, “Why does everyone want to know where I am from? Just leave me alone! I do not want to see your shop!” Needless to say, we felt her pain! That evening we concluded our most memorable stay in Udaipur with a most memorable performance at the Bangore-ki-Haveli when we were guests of the traditional Rajasthani music and dance show that culminated with a middle aged woman dancing on glass with nine clay pots balanced precariously on her head and then an impromptu dinner at Savage Garden restaurant with our new French-Canadian friends, Jean-Francois and Annie. We had a great time and enjoyed your company and our numerous encounters along the Rajasthan tour. We wish you the best and hope you get around to taking that year off to travel!

Monday, February 16, 2009

DESERT STORM: A TOUR OF RAJASTHAN


February 12, 2009 10:20 AM

Idalis:

After two and a half months of traveling in southern India on old trains, rusty buses, and death-defying rickshaws, Kevin and I have decided to treat ourselves to a car tour through the northern area of Rajasthan. We were really looking forward to seeing this area, as all of our quintessential images of India comes from Rajasthan: desert sand dunes, camels, women in brightly colored saris, and men in orange turbans. But, we had also been warned by fellow travelers (and in our research) by the comparative harshness of the north: aggressive touts, hordes of tourists, difficult transportation, frenetic cities, extreme poverty, and staunchly traditional. We thought we had already seen it all in the south! Despite the inconveniences, we wanted to see Rajasthan, and decided to make it easier on ourselves by splurging on an 18 day car tour. After looking over our finances and doing the math, we realized it was still cheaper to hire a private driver for a day in India than to stay in a hostel in Europe. Our decision was made even easier by a Christmas contribution by Kevin's parents. We were sold!

Mandawa





Our first stop was Mandawa, about 7 hours southwest of Delhi. Mandawa is known for its famous havelis, beautiful dilapidated mansions painted with colorful murals. After checking in to Hotel Shekhawati, an old haveli with eye-catching paintings, we decided to hire a local young man to be our guide and show us around town. We walked around Mandawa and admired several of the crumbling havelis, many with paintings of various Hindu deities, elephants, or scantily clad female dancers. Our young guide started out well enough, but eventually became more interested in chewing and spitting his paan (a mild stimulant made from betel nut and wrapped in a leaf), or in bringing us into one of his many relatives' shops to just “have a look.” Oh well, I guess that's what you get for a two-dollar tour!

Bikaner








The next day it was off to Bikaner, about 4 hours west of Mandawa. The city itself was smoggy and full of traffic, but the impressive Junagarh Fort made up for it. We wandered through the rooms, marveled at such richly decorated interiors, and looked over the city of Bikaner, which appeared much nicer from higher up.

That night, we drove an hour out of Bikaner to the village of Deshnok, which has the most bizarre place Kevin and I have visited yet: the Karni Mata Temple, otherwise known as the “rat temple.” These special rats that live in the temple are known as kabas, and devotees believe that these little creatures are reincarnated souls saved from the wrath of Yama, the god of death. We left our shoes outside and walked into the Twilight Zone. Everywhere inside were free-roaming rats, scurrying about, drinking milk, or being fed by devoted followers. I tried not to think about the rat droppings crunching beneath my bare feet, but instead focused my attention on avoiding them, since stepping on one means donating a gold medal of a rat to placate the deity. Kevin had two rats scurry over his feet (a sign of good luck) and I had one nibble on my left pinky toe (I squelched the panic rising up inside of me), so we should be blessed for a long time to come.

Indians can be quite peculiar sometimes, asking us what we Westerners would consider to be very personal questions, but for them is no big deal. We're often asked about our friends and family, how long we've been married, why we don't have children, and what our salaries are back home. They also have a very skewed view of Americans, assuming that we are all rich and very promiscuous. I do think though, that on this particular night, we were asked the most outlandish question yet. A proud Punjabi father staying at our hotel, in town for his daughter's exams, asked without hesitation about relationships between men and women, “Is it true that in America sex is free?” To which Kevin replied, much to my embarrassment,
“No sir, actually it's very expensive.”

Jaisalmer





We drove six hours from Bikaner to Jaisalmer the next morning. Luck was on our side (thanks to those sacred rats), for we arrived in this desert city just in time to catch the annual Jaisalmer Desert Festival, and even luckier to find accommodations there, albeit cruddy and spartan. That night, we went with Charlie (our driver) to check out the festivities. We walked around the fair grounds, rode a rickety ferris wheel (probably not the smartest idea), and sampled camel's milk ice cream (I'll stick to Ben & Jerry's). We waited for several cold hours for the sun to go down and were rewarded with traditional Rajasthani dancing and lit views of the fort.

In the morning, we visited the still-inhabited Jaisalmer Fort and had a mediocre breakfast overlooking the main chowk (square), where grief-stricken but still-proud royal wives performed johar, choosing to plunge to their deaths instead of being captured by their enemies. We also entered the nearby Palace of the Maharawal. Our entrance fee, although eight times more than what an Indian pays, was well worth the price. It was beautiful, and the palace's five-story facade of balconies and windows gave us an unforgettable view of India's “Golden City,” given its name because of its sandstone architecture. We witnessed a real treat: birds flying in unison over the crumbling buildings below. From that vantage point, the trash and cow poop was not visible, although it became clear again once we walked back into town.

That afternoon, we had one of our best experiences yet: riding on a camel into the Thar Desert! We took a three-hour “camel safari” in the village of Khuri to the desert sand dunes . . . an awesome experience! My camel, Disco, was quite frisky, and Kevin's camel seemed to suffer from severe flatulence throughout the ride, but it was still so much fun! We arrived at the sand dunes and once dismounting from our hump-backed transportation, ran over the dunes and laughed at our luck . . . we were the only ones there! We watched the sun set, although by that time we were sharing the view with hundreds of other tourists on similar “camel safaris” and various touts and beggars.

That night, we stayed in a small hut in the village of Khuri. The family that owns the simple guest house provided food and entertainment, complete with men singing traditional Rajasthani music and a female dancer in a brightly colored sari. The day was perfect: cow poop, camel farts, beggars, and all.

Today is our six month travel anniversary. It seems like just days ago that Kevin and I were at Miami International Airport, said goodbye to loved ones, and sat on a plane with serious butterflies in our stomachs. It's been a sometimes crazy but always rewarding experience. Over the last few days, we have been battling with homesickness and are really missing our friends and family, as well as the simple comforts of home: the sound of Aphrodite's clickety paws, hot running water, Jeremy's smile, and fresh salads, just to name a few. Despite our longings (the list grows longer every day), we're committed to our journey and continue to feel blessed for being able to experience all of it, the good with the bad, every day.

Friday, February 13, 2009

IN THE DELHI OF THE BEAST








Friday, February 6th at 21:05

NEW DELHI

New Delhi. Perhaps the dirtiest, loudest, busiest most crowded city in all the world...and we actually liked it! I can probably tell you that traveling to India is akin to climbing Mt. Everest. You need to prepare as much as possible in advance and you need to give yourself plenty of time to acclimate! Before coming to India, we had heard that people either love it or hate it. I am starting to understand why. I feel safe assuming that if you only visit for a short while you may be inclined to not like India very much. The longer you stay, the more you may start to become accustomed to the otherwise unaccustomable!

Having traveled the south of India for ten weeks, we decided to give ourself a bit of a break. Instead of taking an auto rickshaw at 3:30 in the morning, from Mysore to Bangalore, to catch a 38 to possibly46 hour train from Bangalore to Delhi, we opted to take a taxi from Gokulam, where the Ashtanga Institute was located, to the new Bangalore International Airport to catch a two and one half hour flight to New Delhi. To further spoil ourselves, we also arranged to have a driver, from the hotel where we were staying, pick us up at the airport. He even had a sign with our names on it, making us feel a bit like diplomats. Our driver's name was Charlie, and little did we know that he would be the driver to accompany us on fourteen days of our eighteen day Rajasthan car tour. Charlie is a bit of an anommolie in India being quiet, a bit portly and most of all, Catholic. He is mild mannered and incredibly honest and honorable. The perfect person to join us in a 4000 kilometer trek across northern India.

Back to New Delhi where our tour started. We stayed three nights right in the heart of Paharganj and steps from the Main Bazaar. An unpaved, uneven, ridiculously crowded thoroughfare that happened to have an even mix of sewage and muck loosely packed as a result of an ongoing improvement project. Upon arrival, we basically spent our time checking in, unpacking, finishing the coordination of our car tour, surfing the net and getting the lay of the land, which included being interviewed by every cycle rickshaw driver and shop owner. The next morning we would awake early to reunite with Charlie for a free car tour of the sites of New Delhi, compliments of the hotel owner, Mr. Badrajah, who I think is rather fond of us. New Delhi is a major moving metropolis with over 12,000,000 people hustling and bustling every day, hordes of traffic and who knows how many rupees changing hands per hour. Fast paced, heavily polluted and signs of new wealth, industry and development everywhere. However, there is plenty of rich architecture and history for even the most discernible pallet. In a period of nine hours, we were able to visit the Red Fort, Lal Qila, then across the street to the Jain temple, Lal Mandir, where one has to leave their shoes, and anything made out of leather at the door, then through Chandni Chowk (Old Delhi's main bazaar and market) dodging fast moving and non stopping cycle rickshaws to visit India's largest mosque, the Jama Masjid, where we entered separately to avoid paying what we thought was a rather high camera and shoe charge and also where Idalis had to once again cover her head. A quick pass through the Tibetan craft bazaar and then a short car ride over to “Rajghat” where Ghandi's samadhi (memorial) is located and where his body was cremated one day after his assassination. His crematory memorial is emblazoned with his last words, “Hai Ram”, or “Oh, God”. A quick stop at a little restaurant outside of the park for a north Indian thali and our tour of Old Delhi was complete and then it was on to New Delhi where our first stop was “Humayun's Tomb”. Idalis and I both believe this mausoleum of the second Mughal emperor to be the highlight of our day. It is a large, impressive and elegant Persian structure, constructed of red sandstone inlaid with black and white marble. Overall, the site contains the tombs of several of the Emperor's family members, servants and even his barber, the only man permitted to approach the Emperor's head with a sharp razor. Each tomb is inscribed with Koranic versus. We were also lucky enough to witness craftsman tooling large marble columns by hand for the restoration work that was underway. A longer car ride to the outskirts of Delhi brought us to the recently constructed Bha'i Temple. An architectural masterpiece made to resemble a blossoming lotus and containing 27 petals surrounded by nine pools. While standing in the queue, you are advised that the temple invites and embraces members of all faiths and religions and you are requested to remain absolutely silent while inside the sanctuary, a silence that we found to be unique for India and overwhelming as it brought tears to Idalis' eyes. The temple was not actually part of the usual Delhi tour. However, having seen it from the plane, I kindly requested that our driver, Charlie, take us so that we could behold it's beauty from the ground as well. A truly magical and magnificent site with disciples and followers that strive for world peace, a unification of all mankind and an incredible membership comprised of world leaders and humanitarians alike. Our last and final stop was to be a combination of sites all within a stones throw of each other and including the impressive “India Gate” arch, the massive Presidential Palace, Rashtrapati Bhavan, the Parliament building, and the massive Ministry of Finance and Ministry of Military buildings that sit opposite of the grand thoroughfare that permits you up close access by automobile.

The other highlight of our trip to Delhi was a reunion with Nicolette (Nic), who we had first met in Olympos, Turkey and had spent some days together relaxing in the comfort of the Shaban Tree House complex while drinking Efes and eating pomegranate. While in Turkey, we had realized that we would all be in India at around the same time and had promised to do what we could to meet up wherever we may be. Well, our first gathering was in room 12A of our hotel where Nic was staying with her niece, Eva, who had joined her for a month of traveling around India and Nepal. Nic is one of the main reasons that our trip to India had been so successful as she had given us so much information about places to go and things to see from her previous experiences traveling here. We went out and had a great dinner catching up on each others experiences and getting to know Eva, who has invited us to stay with her in Australia. See you there. We also spent the next day together walking around town, doing a bit of shopping, getting Nic a new phone plan and, after two incredible thorough security searches, catching the movie “Slumdog Millionaire” at a local movie house, a major social institution for the Indian masses. At the end of our short time together, we said good bye to Eva who would be returning to Adelaide on the eighth of February and made more plans to meet Nic in the north where we hope to join each other in Dharamsala to see the Dalai Lama in his public speaking engagement on March 11th. We looked forward to seeing them both!

We had one last memorable experience while staying in New Delhi. While standing at an ATM waiting to pull out money, we met a really sweet, young French Canadian couple who had just recently arrived in India. Our introduction to Mark and Amelie was an inquiry from Mark as to where we were staying. This question turned into a conversation and an impromptu dinner at the Metropolis Hotel roof top restaurant where they informed us of their plans to travel around northern India and Nepal by bicycle, which they had brought with them, along with the necessary luggage and equipment. Having just arrived, they were full of questions, concerns and maybe even a small bit of anxiety. Idalis and I fully understanding this overwhelming feeling did our best to try and impart whatever knowledge we had acquired in our ten week course of “Intense India 101”. We had a really insightful and enjoyable conversation and said our goodbyes at the end of dinner wishing each other the best, and as they say in India, a “Happy Journey”. If you are interested, Mark and Amelie are also maintaining a blog of their travels and their attempt to see India from behind the handlebars of a bicycle, you can follow their adventures on their very own blog, www.leprojetjarret.wordpress.com. We know we will be checking in on them occasionally and wish them the very best. With that, our whirlwind tour of Delhi ended and our eighteen day car tour of Rajasthan with Charlie begins. Wish us luck as we head deep into the dessert, land of the camel.

Despite our ability to, dare I say, toughen up a bit, there is still always the persistence of abject poverty, especially in the major cities. It is a part of India that I doubt we will ever get “used to”. Children dodging chaotic traffic in the hopes of acquiring a few rupees or even an ink pen, entire families living under trees and in medians, victims of disease and possibly even disfiguring clambering for change just to survive. It is all a bit much to digest and even harder to begin to understand. Most say to just ignore it and certainly don't contribute to it as it tends to perpetuate the problem. However, conscience would remind you that these are humans just like you and they have every right to a free and happy life. Perhaps the most difficult and helpless feeling either of us has ever had is looking into the eyes of a small dirty, barefoot child, dressed in rags and knocking on the window of your car and knowing that no amount of rupees that you could ever oblige them with would make much of a difference in their lives or in their fragile futures. Being as there is not much that we can do to restore order to these longstanding conditions in our short stay here, we are both hopeful that the clearly evident progressive changes and modernization happening at break neck speed here in India somehow recognize the need to provide for and include even the weakest, smallest and most forgotten members of this community. On the upside, we have been fortunate enough to discover some of the better charitable organizations that are doing great work here in India in an effort to help address the problem of poverty. Should you wish to get involved, please do so by researching any of the links provided below.
http://www.operation-shanti.org/
http://www.kpjtrust.org/
http://www.salaambaalaktrust.com

Sunday, February 1, 2009

A WORLD OF THANKS!



January 31, 2009 at 18:52

Dear Rajeev and Shruti,

We know how much you love “thank yous”! So, we would like to take this time to thank you. Thank you for opening your home to us. Thank you for your warmth and hospitality. Thank you for answering all of our questions and being so patient with our endless inquiries. Thank you for the long talks. Thank you for the long walks. Thank you for the book to read. Thank you for lounging in the mountain room with us. Thank you for making us laugh. Thank you for the amazing meals. Thank you for driving us everywhere. Thank you for teaching us how to be better tourists in India. Thank you for interpreting. Thank you for the courses in personal defense. Thank you for the recipes. Thank you for the chai. Thank you for the proper booze nights. Thank you for being so absolutely wonderful!

We were really looking forward to spending the weekend with you and we had the time of our lives. We really appreciate all that you have done for us. We feel incredibly fortunate to have met such wonderful people. You are the future of India and the future is looking good. Please remember that you always have a home in Miami and we look forward to being able to return the favor one day. Rajeev, we wish you the very best with your training and deployment and Shruti, we wish you the best with your return to work in the greatest city in India! We already miss you guys and can't wait until we meet again!

All the best,
Kevin and Idalis







Dear Mysore,

Well, our time here is winding down. In fact, today is our last full day in your beautiful city. We have learned so much. Idalis has furthered her Ashtanga yoga practice and I got to give a little back to your community. We had time to rest, read and enjoy great food. We visited some of your sites and truly enjoyed the Palace, the zoo and Chamundi Hill. We did Puja. We got to make new friends and spend time with old ones. We got to cook and clean and enjoy somewhat of a normal life in our tiny apartment. We enjoyed your wide, new sidewalks and your trash receptacles. We enjoyed meeting your residents and playing with your local kids. We thank you for this month of rest, relaxation and rejuvenation. We thank you for letting us settle in your pleasant community. Thanks to our time here, we are now ready to move on and explore Northern India. You have been a home away from home for us and we appreciate all the opportunities that you have given us. Thank you for being such a great host!

Sincerely,
Kevin and Idalis

One month apartment rental in Mysore...............$100
One month electricity payment........................$7
Rickshaw ride into town..............................$1
South Indian special thali (complete meal)........$0.44
Living like a local in Mysore.................Priceless