It is our last full day in India. We are spending our last day trekking around Bangalore with the help of rickshaws to see what this city is all about. It is touted as the silicon valley of India and is where much of the world's software is written. It is claimed to be the Indian city where the east meets the west and it is probably the most pleasant city we have been to in India. There is plenty of green to enjoy and most of the streets are wide and clean. Yet it is still plagued by atrocious air quality and long and frequent power outages.
This morning we went to the city market which was the best market we have seen in India yet. By "best" I should clarify that I mean it is the closest thing to what I had imagined an Indian market to be. The streets were filled with women sitting behind piles of gleaming fruits and vegetables while people turned bright orange flowers into thick garlands. There was a general sense of chaos as motorcycles, cars, horse-drawn carts, rickshaws, and hyper children manoeuvered around one another. But again, as in the rest of India, the chaos seems to make sense.
Yesterday we went to see opening day of the film Signs, an American blockbuster directed by M. Night Shyamalan, an Indian. In one part of the film, there is a Breaking News headline from Bangalore. At that point, the whole crowd cheered loudly. Then they showed a clip of Bangalore and the big, booming metropolis had been depicted as a dirt road with some villagers walking along it. The crowd broke out into a great, simultaneous laugh. It was a wonderful moment that we may not have been able to appreciate if we weren't here.
We also did some shopping for the first time yesterday. We had been waiting until our last stop so as to not have to carry gifts around in our already-stuffed backpacks. It was great fun to look at all the handicrafts and laugh about carting around the 500 lb. wooden elephant sculpture that we both would love to have. I have to say, the process of buying in India is so typically and uniquely Indian. Nothing here is simple when it involves money and there are always many people involved to do the work of few. It takes at least three steps to buy something here. First, you shop and take the item to one counter to get a bill. Then you take that bill to another counter and pay. After you have paid, you get the bill stamped and take it to a third counter where you get another stamp and finally, get a hold of your package and leave.
Even the steps involved in eating at some Indian places are unique. After the market this morning we went to a restaurant that is very popular with the locals. The waiters wear lungis (male sarongs), are barefoot, and weave in and out of the tables providing each person with a thali meal that had at least 15 parts to it. We waiting outside in line for a while with dozens of others until the place opened at 12.30 and when the doors opened, everyone pushed their way to the payment counter. After paying, we followed the crowd upstairs and were given a number on our receipt. When our number was called, we were ushered into the dining hall where we were directed to our seats. The man instructed us to sit side-by-side at a table with a young Indian couple across from us. They were very friendly and interested and helped us through the courses explaining what it was we were eating (it was all veg). Then, everyone was suddenly done eating and started to leave and make room for the next crowd of hungrys.
A couple of weeks ago we agreed that we would never come back to India. We were just happy to have this one month here. But now, as our time here comes to an end, we talk about where we would visit next time. We can imagine coming back to this place; the country that, for a while, made us think twice about this entire trip. We have learned many lessons about our travelling styles and about ourselves. Indian geography is no longer a giant subcontinental blur to us and we can talk about states and cities as if we have lived here for years. Things that surprised us about India are things we no longer think twice about: like seeing swastikas all over the place (India still uses this ancient symbol as an auspicious one, as if Nazi Germany never happened). We have even begun to employ the side nod that foreigners first interpret as meaning "no" when it means just the opposite. We have also come to understand India in some small way and to appreciate it for being so unique and utterly complex. We have learned the true value of the saying that states that for everything you say about India, the exact opposite is also true.
Wish us a uncancelled flight tomorrow. With your well wishes the next time we write it will be from Nepal.
tothesea,
k&m
Saturday, August 31, 2002
Friday, August 30, 2002
no wonder we're never alone
Something to think about.
Canada is 9.9 million square kilometres in size and has a population of 31.5 million people. That means there are 3 people for every square kilometre.
India is 3.2 million square kilometres in size and has over 1 billion people. In India there are 303 people per square kilometre.
Wow.
k&m
Canada is 9.9 million square kilometres in size and has a population of 31.5 million people. That means there are 3 people for every square kilometre.
India is 3.2 million square kilometres in size and has over 1 billion people. In India there are 303 people per square kilometre.
Wow.
k&m
Wednesday, August 28, 2002
sniffing spices in the air.. a walk through Jew Town
Today is a day of transition. We are wandering the streets and taking extended breaks at cafes to bide the time. It's our last few hours in Cochin. Check out time at the guesthouse was noon and our train doesn't leave until tonight at 7.45 p.m. (Fortunately, we don't have to carry our backpacks around because we were allowed to leave them in the common room at the guesthouse.) It's a perfect opportunity to catch up on email, exchange more read books for new ones, and just spend the last day here relaxing and enjoying ourselves.
Yesterday was a multicultural sightseeing event of a day. We strolled by an old Dutch cemetary where some of the earliest settlers here are buried, we drove through a predominately Muslim part of town and saw their beautiful mosque, and we visited our first synagogue! It is in Mattancherry (more commonly known as Jew Town) which is one of the historic centers of the spice trade. Though the current structure dates from 1664, the original was built in 1568. The first Jewish settlers came to this area about 1000 years ago and a few of their ancestors still live here. By a few, I mean a few. The Jewish population has dwindled to a "geriatric group of 14" due to emigration to Mumbai which today, has the largest Jewish community in India. There is no rabbi in town and services are held by the Jewish elders only when "enough people show up" but it was pretty fascinating to see the building. The floor inside was covered with blue and white Cantonese tiles dating from 1762 and hung from the ceiling were more than a dozen 19th-century oil-buring chandeliers.
As an aside (mostly for Trish's interest); after every meal in India you are given a small dish of fennel (or anise) seeds which is sometimes accompanied by small crystal squares of sugar. You are supposed to eat them together as an after-dinner breath freshener and digestive aid (though Trish was most fond of eating just the sugar bits). Yesterday in the spice markets of Jew Town we found sugar-coated anise and happily munched on it for hours last night during a couple of games of Crazy-8s!
Our next, and last, stop in India is Bangalore from where we will catch our flight to Nepal on Sunday. It was no easy feat to get a train ticket to Bangalore since there is one only train there from Cochin each day. When we went there a few days ago to get our tickets, the next eleven days were solidly booked! Our saviour was a once-a-week-on-Wednesday train that luckily had berths available.
India is the only country in the world that continues to expand its rail system (while other countries move towards widening their highways). The rail system here, originally set up by the British Raj, is a very complete and complex network that takes you just about wherever you want to go. In fact, just about everything about India Rail is complex; from filling out the reservation slips to buying a ticket to choosing a seating class. Let me explain. The different classes as far as we understand them are as follows (placed in order from most expensive to least): 1A is an air-conditioned sleeping compartment with two berths, 2A is an a/c sleeping compartment with 4 berths, FC is first class seating (no bed), 3A is an a/c sleeping compartment with 6 berths, Sleeper class is a non a/c sleeper (with 6 berths?), CC is chair car seating (no bed), and finally, II is second class seating (wooden benches shared with many, many people). Each route may have any number of class combinations so that not all classes are available on every train though there is usually a pretty good selection. We typically take 3A for our overnight trips but the train to Bangalore this evening only offers a rather small choice between 2A or II. Since it is an very long ride on an overnight train we opted for the much more pricey 2A class for about $20 each (we have taken II class in the past and it is probably not the place you want to find yourself spending an entire night). It's going to be a little more luxurious than we are used to but it's also going to be nice to have a comfortable ride as our last one in India.
Until Bangalore....
tothesea,
k&m
Yesterday was a multicultural sightseeing event of a day. We strolled by an old Dutch cemetary where some of the earliest settlers here are buried, we drove through a predominately Muslim part of town and saw their beautiful mosque, and we visited our first synagogue! It is in Mattancherry (more commonly known as Jew Town) which is one of the historic centers of the spice trade. Though the current structure dates from 1664, the original was built in 1568. The first Jewish settlers came to this area about 1000 years ago and a few of their ancestors still live here. By a few, I mean a few. The Jewish population has dwindled to a "geriatric group of 14" due to emigration to Mumbai which today, has the largest Jewish community in India. There is no rabbi in town and services are held by the Jewish elders only when "enough people show up" but it was pretty fascinating to see the building. The floor inside was covered with blue and white Cantonese tiles dating from 1762 and hung from the ceiling were more than a dozen 19th-century oil-buring chandeliers.
As an aside (mostly for Trish's interest); after every meal in India you are given a small dish of fennel (or anise) seeds which is sometimes accompanied by small crystal squares of sugar. You are supposed to eat them together as an after-dinner breath freshener and digestive aid (though Trish was most fond of eating just the sugar bits). Yesterday in the spice markets of Jew Town we found sugar-coated anise and happily munched on it for hours last night during a couple of games of Crazy-8s!
Our next, and last, stop in India is Bangalore from where we will catch our flight to Nepal on Sunday. It was no easy feat to get a train ticket to Bangalore since there is one only train there from Cochin each day. When we went there a few days ago to get our tickets, the next eleven days were solidly booked! Our saviour was a once-a-week-on-Wednesday train that luckily had berths available.
India is the only country in the world that continues to expand its rail system (while other countries move towards widening their highways). The rail system here, originally set up by the British Raj, is a very complete and complex network that takes you just about wherever you want to go. In fact, just about everything about India Rail is complex; from filling out the reservation slips to buying a ticket to choosing a seating class. Let me explain. The different classes as far as we understand them are as follows (placed in order from most expensive to least): 1A is an air-conditioned sleeping compartment with two berths, 2A is an a/c sleeping compartment with 4 berths, FC is first class seating (no bed), 3A is an a/c sleeping compartment with 6 berths, Sleeper class is a non a/c sleeper (with 6 berths?), CC is chair car seating (no bed), and finally, II is second class seating (wooden benches shared with many, many people). Each route may have any number of class combinations so that not all classes are available on every train though there is usually a pretty good selection. We typically take 3A for our overnight trips but the train to Bangalore this evening only offers a rather small choice between 2A or II. Since it is an very long ride on an overnight train we opted for the much more pricey 2A class for about $20 each (we have taken II class in the past and it is probably not the place you want to find yourself spending an entire night). It's going to be a little more luxurious than we are used to but it's also going to be nice to have a comfortable ride as our last one in India.
Until Bangalore....
tothesea,
k&m
Monday, August 26, 2002
greased up and ready to go.
It's a hot and sunny afternoon on the Arabian coast. The power has gone out so the fans are off in this little internet cafe that overlooks the dusty street below. I hope the power comes on again soon because my fingers and wrists are sweating like mad! Computers are run on generators so they always work, lucky for us.
We woke up earlier than usual this morning and with our eyes only slightly open, made our way out the door and to a cafe for some liquid stimulant. We had less than a half hour before it was time for our appointments and we wanted to exchange one of our books beforehand. The local book exchange is in a small tourist office room. A friendly man waits there anxious to pass out brochures and literature on Fort Cochin. You simply bring your read book in and exchange it with another book some other traveller has left behind. The books, regardless of condition, are valued the same so there are no rupees involved. It's a change from other places we have been where our books are always valued less than the one we want.
After making the trade; The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy for a book on women's role in Indian society called May You Be the Mother of a Hundred Sons; A Journey Among the Women of India by Elisabeth Bumiller; we walked along the hot, white road to the Cochin Cultural Center. Both yoga and Ayurvedic massage are important aspects of a Kathakali actor's life so it is not surprising that both these are offered at the center in addition to the nightly performances of Kathakali. We had not experienced an ayurvedic massage before and Krishna had never had a massage outside of North America so we were both in for some surprises.
First off, here is a brief definition of Ayurvedic medicine: Ayurveda is an Indian healing science which is over 5000 years old. It is a holistic health system based on human harmony with nature. Ayurveda is a complete way of life. It is not only about treating sickness - it is based on preventing disease and enhancing health, longevity and vitality. The goal of Ayurveda is to achieve harmony and balance. This is attained without drugs or invasive treatments. A balanced diet, herbal remedies, gentle exercise and physical therapies (such as massage) are the main methods used.
Without passing judgement on whether it was better or worse than a North American massage experience, it was nevertheless unique. Here is how it all went down (I'm taking the liberty of assuming that most of you have, at one point or another, had a professional massage of some sort). We were led into small rooms, not to emerge for another hour. The sunlit room was taken up mostly by a large and heavy brown plastic bed with a small, hard pillow on it. The masseuse said politely, "Take off your clothes" and stood there waiting with a small piece of white cotton in her hands all the while making small talk about our names, our places of residence, which hotel we were staying at.. etc. Once completely naked, she wrapped a thin band of cotton around my waist and then strung a thicker piece of it from the front, between my legs, and to the back. It was, essentially, a loincloth. After I laid on the table, she dribbled a large amount of aromatic (coconut and herb) oil all over my arms, legs, and torso and began the massage (adding plenty more oil as she went along). The technique of massaging in long, fluid strokes is very fast and actually left the masseuse out of breath in the end. Some attention was paid to the spine, the feet, the shoulders, the palms and in the end, a head and face massage was administered with a thicker, pastier oil. After the massage, I was given a bar of Medimix Ayurvedic soap (Magi's absolute favourite) and a small packet of shampoo. Magi's massage ended first so she was showering while I sat there in my oily loincloth talking to my fully-clothed masseuse and Magi's masseuse who had come in from the other room for a chat (it felt just a little awkward!). In a shower that only provided cold water, it was very difficult to get rid of the coat of thick oil that was on my skin but I did my best, wiped a bit more off with the towel, got dressed, and met Magi in the lobby. Overall, it was not as much a relaxing event as it was invigorating. We can both still smell the oils on our skin. We are rubbery and happy.
We had lunch at a very chic little cafe. The set menu consisted of garlic toast, pumpkin soup, and bean & potato salad. It was unusually delicious Western food and we gobbled it up with delight. Tonight we went back to our usual Indian joint and had masala dosas. We finished the day off by reading on the beach and watching the sunset. We were joined by about three hundred Indians, four foreigners, and three dogs.
tothesea,
k&m
We woke up earlier than usual this morning and with our eyes only slightly open, made our way out the door and to a cafe for some liquid stimulant. We had less than a half hour before it was time for our appointments and we wanted to exchange one of our books beforehand. The local book exchange is in a small tourist office room. A friendly man waits there anxious to pass out brochures and literature on Fort Cochin. You simply bring your read book in and exchange it with another book some other traveller has left behind. The books, regardless of condition, are valued the same so there are no rupees involved. It's a change from other places we have been where our books are always valued less than the one we want.
After making the trade; The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy for a book on women's role in Indian society called May You Be the Mother of a Hundred Sons; A Journey Among the Women of India by Elisabeth Bumiller; we walked along the hot, white road to the Cochin Cultural Center. Both yoga and Ayurvedic massage are important aspects of a Kathakali actor's life so it is not surprising that both these are offered at the center in addition to the nightly performances of Kathakali. We had not experienced an ayurvedic massage before and Krishna had never had a massage outside of North America so we were both in for some surprises.
First off, here is a brief definition of Ayurvedic medicine: Ayurveda is an Indian healing science which is over 5000 years old. It is a holistic health system based on human harmony with nature. Ayurveda is a complete way of life. It is not only about treating sickness - it is based on preventing disease and enhancing health, longevity and vitality. The goal of Ayurveda is to achieve harmony and balance. This is attained without drugs or invasive treatments. A balanced diet, herbal remedies, gentle exercise and physical therapies (such as massage) are the main methods used.
Without passing judgement on whether it was better or worse than a North American massage experience, it was nevertheless unique. Here is how it all went down (I'm taking the liberty of assuming that most of you have, at one point or another, had a professional massage of some sort). We were led into small rooms, not to emerge for another hour. The sunlit room was taken up mostly by a large and heavy brown plastic bed with a small, hard pillow on it. The masseuse said politely, "Take off your clothes" and stood there waiting with a small piece of white cotton in her hands all the while making small talk about our names, our places of residence, which hotel we were staying at.. etc. Once completely naked, she wrapped a thin band of cotton around my waist and then strung a thicker piece of it from the front, between my legs, and to the back. It was, essentially, a loincloth. After I laid on the table, she dribbled a large amount of aromatic (coconut and herb) oil all over my arms, legs, and torso and began the massage (adding plenty more oil as she went along). The technique of massaging in long, fluid strokes is very fast and actually left the masseuse out of breath in the end. Some attention was paid to the spine, the feet, the shoulders, the palms and in the end, a head and face massage was administered with a thicker, pastier oil. After the massage, I was given a bar of Medimix Ayurvedic soap (Magi's absolute favourite) and a small packet of shampoo. Magi's massage ended first so she was showering while I sat there in my oily loincloth talking to my fully-clothed masseuse and Magi's masseuse who had come in from the other room for a chat (it felt just a little awkward!). In a shower that only provided cold water, it was very difficult to get rid of the coat of thick oil that was on my skin but I did my best, wiped a bit more off with the towel, got dressed, and met Magi in the lobby. Overall, it was not as much a relaxing event as it was invigorating. We can both still smell the oils on our skin. We are rubbery and happy.
We had lunch at a very chic little cafe. The set menu consisted of garlic toast, pumpkin soup, and bean & potato salad. It was unusually delicious Western food and we gobbled it up with delight. Tonight we went back to our usual Indian joint and had masala dosas. We finished the day off by reading on the beach and watching the sunset. We were joined by about three hundred Indians, four foreigners, and three dogs.
tothesea,
k&m
Sunday, August 25, 2002
meeting turmeric for the first time.
Cochin is, by far, the most beautiful and exciting place we have been in India. Today we took a four-hour afternoon spice and backwater boat tour. It was just us and a British man who was born in Goa. The tour began with our guide taking us down a path through a small village showing us different spices and fruits. It was really interesting to connect with food in that way especially given our North American tendency to not really think about what things look like before they reach our grocery store. Who knew bananas grew upside down!? The part where you start to peel is where it attaches itself to the tree and then grows upwards from there! We smelled the root of a turmeric plant, the leaves of lemon, ginger, arrowroot, and curry plants, saw the cinnamon on a cinnamon tree (it's just the bark), and played with a freshly cracked open nutmeg shell and it's bright red outer coating that is turned into mace. We saw vibrant green chilis growing on their branches and even young peppercorns clustered together on a vine!
We came to the opening where we met with our wiley Indian rowers and then stepped into the dark, heavy boat that took us to the narrow backwaters of Kerala, winding down the water past small villages. The sun was beaming and the wind was warm. After a little while, we pulled onto shore and watched in amazement as one of the rowers put a rope around his ankles and sprung up a coconut tree. He cut down three coconuts and then climbed down where he proceeded to cut them so there was a small hole in the top of each one. Our guide placed a straw inside each hole and we were all invited to drink the juice from our very own coconuts. The clear, watery juice was not as sweet as I had imagined but was refreshing nonetheless. After we drank the juice, the man who had cut them took them back and sliced the coconut in two and carved out a small scoop from the outside of the nut so that we could enjoy the young, fresh pulp inside. We were unexpectedly met by three village boys who smiled and giggled so much that we had to take their photo. The Brit took a photo on his digital camera and the boys were delighted to see themselves on the mini screen of the camera afterwards.
Last night we were excited to attend a Kathakali performance. Kathakali is the signature art associated with Kerala and is hundreds of years old. Since the actors do not speak, the story is told through a very complex language of gestures, facial expressions, and sign language that we came nowhere near even getting a grasp of. In fact, Kathakali actors have to go through six years of training to learn everything involved. Regardless, the night was incredible and it was easy to understand some of the play because of facial expressions. It began with an hour and a half of makeup. The players sat on stage and proceeded to place layer upon layer of colour, design, texture, and shape on their faces (sometimes with the help of others). It's really hard to explain the level of transformation these characters go through so I have included a picture of one character here (two minutes before the performance they put a small seed in their eye that turns the white of the eye red, hence the bloodshot look). The other half of the performance was a brief introduction to the gestures and language of the play and then a very truncated version of one story was performed. Let me explain. A traditional Kathakali play will be held usually inside a Hindu temple (the stories are from great Hindu texts) and will start at sunset and end at sunrise. That's right, one performance is usually 8 or 9 hours long so in our one-hour snippet we were only told one aspect of the story and of course, it was a very dramatic part in which one of the noble characters slays a demon. Understanding it was not a full play, we enjoyed the authenticity of the makeup and the gestures and had a great time overall.
Krishna. That playful and rotund blue god who drools at even the thought of sweets melting in his mouth. He is Mr. Popularity by Hindu god standards and there are thousands of temples in India to worship him (not bad considering there are traditionally estimated to be 333 million Hindu gods and goddesses). My having this name has brought upon a spectrum of reactions that depend mostly on the other person's grasp of English. If the person who I tell my name to knows no English (usually in some formal setting where a form is involved), there is usually no reaction but I would imagine that inside, they are relieved that they can spell my name easily without my having to repeat it or spell it. Otherwise, people are delighted to hear my name is Krishna. I usually get a double-take and a big smile. Of course, I have been asked several times if I am Hindu. After I explain I'm not they will laugh and say, "This is a Hindu name." I spoke with a Hindu woman at some length about Krishna. She said in India it is a common name for girls and boys after I told her that I thought it was only a male name. She explained that when a boy has this name it is pronounced differently, like "Krishan" and when it is a girl, "Krishna" is customary. I continue to enjoy the reactions I get when I tell Indians my name. I always expect a smiling reaction and I am rarely disappointed.
Happily, we have another three nights in Cochin.
(Check out this picture of Chinese fishing nets that were set up in the early days of Cochin by Chinese settlers. They dot the shoreline and are an aesthetic pleasure to behold both when they are in action and not.)
We'll be back soon with more adventures from the sunny, glorious south of India.
tothesea,
k&m
P.S. Small world story. We met a guy who went to school at the University of Manitoba where I did my first two years of uni. He had worked up in Flin Flon after graduation.
We came to the opening where we met with our wiley Indian rowers and then stepped into the dark, heavy boat that took us to the narrow backwaters of Kerala, winding down the water past small villages. The sun was beaming and the wind was warm. After a little while, we pulled onto shore and watched in amazement as one of the rowers put a rope around his ankles and sprung up a coconut tree. He cut down three coconuts and then climbed down where he proceeded to cut them so there was a small hole in the top of each one. Our guide placed a straw inside each hole and we were all invited to drink the juice from our very own coconuts. The clear, watery juice was not as sweet as I had imagined but was refreshing nonetheless. After we drank the juice, the man who had cut them took them back and sliced the coconut in two and carved out a small scoop from the outside of the nut so that we could enjoy the young, fresh pulp inside. We were unexpectedly met by three village boys who smiled and giggled so much that we had to take their photo. The Brit took a photo on his digital camera and the boys were delighted to see themselves on the mini screen of the camera afterwards.
Last night we were excited to attend a Kathakali performance. Kathakali is the signature art associated with Kerala and is hundreds of years old. Since the actors do not speak, the story is told through a very complex language of gestures, facial expressions, and sign language that we came nowhere near even getting a grasp of. In fact, Kathakali actors have to go through six years of training to learn everything involved. Regardless, the night was incredible and it was easy to understand some of the play because of facial expressions. It began with an hour and a half of makeup. The players sat on stage and proceeded to place layer upon layer of colour, design, texture, and shape on their faces (sometimes with the help of others). It's really hard to explain the level of transformation these characters go through so I have included a picture of one character here (two minutes before the performance they put a small seed in their eye that turns the white of the eye red, hence the bloodshot look). The other half of the performance was a brief introduction to the gestures and language of the play and then a very truncated version of one story was performed. Let me explain. A traditional Kathakali play will be held usually inside a Hindu temple (the stories are from great Hindu texts) and will start at sunset and end at sunrise. That's right, one performance is usually 8 or 9 hours long so in our one-hour snippet we were only told one aspect of the story and of course, it was a very dramatic part in which one of the noble characters slays a demon. Understanding it was not a full play, we enjoyed the authenticity of the makeup and the gestures and had a great time overall.
Krishna. That playful and rotund blue god who drools at even the thought of sweets melting in his mouth. He is Mr. Popularity by Hindu god standards and there are thousands of temples in India to worship him (not bad considering there are traditionally estimated to be 333 million Hindu gods and goddesses). My having this name has brought upon a spectrum of reactions that depend mostly on the other person's grasp of English. If the person who I tell my name to knows no English (usually in some formal setting where a form is involved), there is usually no reaction but I would imagine that inside, they are relieved that they can spell my name easily without my having to repeat it or spell it. Otherwise, people are delighted to hear my name is Krishna. I usually get a double-take and a big smile. Of course, I have been asked several times if I am Hindu. After I explain I'm not they will laugh and say, "This is a Hindu name." I spoke with a Hindu woman at some length about Krishna. She said in India it is a common name for girls and boys after I told her that I thought it was only a male name. She explained that when a boy has this name it is pronounced differently, like "Krishan" and when it is a girl, "Krishna" is customary. I continue to enjoy the reactions I get when I tell Indians my name. I always expect a smiling reaction and I am rarely disappointed.
Happily, we have another three nights in Cochin.
(Check out this picture of Chinese fishing nets that were set up in the early days of Cochin by Chinese settlers. They dot the shoreline and are an aesthetic pleasure to behold both when they are in action and not.)
We'll be back soon with more adventures from the sunny, glorious south of India.
tothesea,
k&m
P.S. Small world story. We met a guy who went to school at the University of Manitoba where I did my first two years of uni. He had worked up in Flin Flon after graduation.
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
you say ood-oopi, i say ewe-dippi (and we're both wrong)
After a bum-blistering five hour ride on a government bus, we have arrived at our destination of Udupi (pronounced Oo-de-pee). Most tourists take the more luxurious private buses but so far we have enjoyed our rides on the government buses. They play happy (though very tinny and shrill) Indian music and we get the feeling that we are seeing a real glimpse into Indian life as we weave through tiny towns and in between, watch women work in beautifully bright green rice-paddies amidst clever renditions of scarecrows. Magi is particularly fond of passing by lakes with treed islands and never fails to point out each and every one.
Udupi is famous only for it's Krishna temple celebrating the god's incarnation as a sweets-loving child named Rama Krishna. We are staying in a real swanky place (by accident, it was raining and it was the first place we came across). It's costing us about US $6 so it's definitely a splurge but we're only here for one night. It's made even better that there is an excellent veg restaurant attached to the hotel. We stopped there for some great masala dosas and samosas before heading out for a look around town.
We came Udupi only to see the temple and besides, we needed a stopover between our last stop, Gokarna, and our next stop, Cochin. After being in beach resort towns during the monsoon for nearly a week we have decided that we are no longer interested in seeing beaches. Because the towns are nearly deserted, we were met with many one-item menus in dingy joints that were crawling with bugs. It's really hard to enjoy a meal when you can plainly see cockroaches crawling all over the kitchen. In Gokarna, after one particularly (un)memorable meal watching very scrawny kittens crawl around the restaurant's dirt floor looking for any dropped morsel, we walked home underneath dozens of very large screeching bats flying overhead. It was a very eerie evening.
Slowly, we are getting used to the real India. It makes it easier that we are in the south, where the atmosphere has a sense of calmness and where no one has pestered us for money for several days (though I think the staring is worse here where foreigners must be a real rarity). We have grown to really love the squat toilet though we have switched from the traditional cleaning-with-bucket-of-water method to using trusty toilet paper once again. We have gotten used to very frequent power outages and to weaving between huge cow patties in the street. We're getting used to alternating between just two outfits though we could definitely use a washer someday soon.
Anyway, we only have a few stops left in India. Highly anticipated is our next stop, Cochin, in the state of Kerala (famous for its Ayurvedic massages). We are going to be there for several days. We only have 12 nights left in India (but who's counting right?)
tothesea,
k&m
Udupi is famous only for it's Krishna temple celebrating the god's incarnation as a sweets-loving child named Rama Krishna. We are staying in a real swanky place (by accident, it was raining and it was the first place we came across). It's costing us about US $6 so it's definitely a splurge but we're only here for one night. It's made even better that there is an excellent veg restaurant attached to the hotel. We stopped there for some great masala dosas and samosas before heading out for a look around town.
We came Udupi only to see the temple and besides, we needed a stopover between our last stop, Gokarna, and our next stop, Cochin. After being in beach resort towns during the monsoon for nearly a week we have decided that we are no longer interested in seeing beaches. Because the towns are nearly deserted, we were met with many one-item menus in dingy joints that were crawling with bugs. It's really hard to enjoy a meal when you can plainly see cockroaches crawling all over the kitchen. In Gokarna, after one particularly (un)memorable meal watching very scrawny kittens crawl around the restaurant's dirt floor looking for any dropped morsel, we walked home underneath dozens of very large screeching bats flying overhead. It was a very eerie evening.
Slowly, we are getting used to the real India. It makes it easier that we are in the south, where the atmosphere has a sense of calmness and where no one has pestered us for money for several days (though I think the staring is worse here where foreigners must be a real rarity). We have grown to really love the squat toilet though we have switched from the traditional cleaning-with-bucket-of-water method to using trusty toilet paper once again. We have gotten used to very frequent power outages and to weaving between huge cow patties in the street. We're getting used to alternating between just two outfits though we could definitely use a washer someday soon.
Anyway, we only have a few stops left in India. Highly anticipated is our next stop, Cochin, in the state of Kerala (famous for its Ayurvedic massages). We are going to be there for several days. We only have 12 nights left in India (but who's counting right?)
tothesea,
k&m
Friday, August 16, 2002
the end is in sight
We decided that we just couldn't hack the four days by train and 24 hours by bus that it would take for us to get to Kathmandu from the south. So today we splurged and bought plane tickets for a flight from Bangalore to Kathmandu. We'll leave India on September 1st and... we're pretty enthusiastic about it.
I must say though, India is growing on us. Despite insect wings found in train desserts, pollution, and crabby touts, there is something about this place that is intriguing and beautiful. We have found that the south is much easier to digest than the north. The people here are more laid-back.
I never did mention the way women dress in this country but I think it is worth noting. There really is no Western-influence in terms of dress here. Women are always seen wearing their salwar kameez and saris. Trish commented about this saying that it's like India is its own little world, separate from the other Asian countries that have been so heavily influenced by the west. Safeena said that India could be called "The USA of Asia" because it is so disconnected and uninterested with what's going on outside its borders, culturally speaking. Coca-cola and Pepsi signs painted on people's homes but signs for Mirinda and Limca sodas are just as plentiful. Also, we have seen one (just one!) McDonald's. These are just about the only American things we have seen here (aside from people). Men dress in khakis and "polo" shirts but still remain rather traditional looking. Here in the south, women are often in traditional dress but also wear colourful, shorter dresses with puffy sleeves and bunches of jasmine flowers in their hair.
It's been raining steady almost all day. We're going to rustle up some grub and then retire to our room (a German couple moved in next door, so maybe we'll chat with them awhile).
tothesea,
k&m
I must say though, India is growing on us. Despite insect wings found in train desserts, pollution, and crabby touts, there is something about this place that is intriguing and beautiful. We have found that the south is much easier to digest than the north. The people here are more laid-back.
I never did mention the way women dress in this country but I think it is worth noting. There really is no Western-influence in terms of dress here. Women are always seen wearing their salwar kameez and saris. Trish commented about this saying that it's like India is its own little world, separate from the other Asian countries that have been so heavily influenced by the west. Safeena said that India could be called "The USA of Asia" because it is so disconnected and uninterested with what's going on outside its borders, culturally speaking. Coca-cola and Pepsi signs painted on people's homes but signs for Mirinda and Limca sodas are just as plentiful. Also, we have seen one (just one!) McDonald's. These are just about the only American things we have seen here (aside from people). Men dress in khakis and "polo" shirts but still remain rather traditional looking. Here in the south, women are often in traditional dress but also wear colourful, shorter dresses with puffy sleeves and bunches of jasmine flowers in their hair.
It's been raining steady almost all day. We're going to rustle up some grub and then retire to our room (a German couple moved in next door, so maybe we'll chat with them awhile).
tothesea,
k&m
Thursday, August 15, 2002
picking up shells
One happy thing I forgot to mention a few days back: when we were waiting for our bus to leave Dharamsala, our friend Palden came on to the bus to surprise us and say goodbye. He had a bracelet for each of us. It was nice to be able to see him again and say goodbye. I only wish we had a gift for him too.
Our time in Palolem has been very relaxing so far. There actually aren't that many people selling things on the beach as we thought there would be. It's pretty much the same young girls runnning up to us. Yesterday two got to talking with us and convinced us, against our better judgement, to look at their jewelry. They laid out sarongs for our princess-selves to sit on while they unloaded their bags of trinkets, bracelets, silver, and pendants and splayed them out before us. Everything you touched or showed some vague interest in they set aside and insisted that we put a pile together of things we liked before they gave us a price. So, just for fun, I picked out several things. In the meantime, two other older ladies (probably relatives) came up and sat with the group of us to give the two young girls some extra bargaining power and support I imagine. When it came time to find out the price I was flabbergasted to hear her price quote of Rs. 1050 (about $21US). I then unpicked from my pile a bracelet with glass beads (they were insisting they were stones) and some other things and left myself with two carved stone dolphin pendants. She said they were Rs. 150 each but I managed to get them both for that price. Magi had a sandalwood necklace sized to fit her and paid Rs. 100 for it. We were both satisfied with our purchases and we walked back to our room to do some reading while the rain poured outside.
Today we woke up late and noticing the sun was out, we meandered down to the beach. We walked for about an hour admiring and collecting some very unique seashells with beautiful patterns. We ate some Indian dishes at a hangout that seems popular with travellers. It's really different here in terms of local to travellers ratio. I mean, it's still mostly locals but we see more tourists here than any other place we have been (we hardly see anyone anywhere so it's not that hard to see more).
It is Independance Day today in India which they say is the biggest federal holiday of them all. We have seen a few plastic Indian flags hanging from motorcycles but here in Palolem things are pretty quiet. Goa was colonized by the Portuguese and the locals look a like a mix between southern Europeans and Indians. The Hindu temples are replaced with crosses and Virgin Mary statues decorated with Christmas lights. Sadly, the food is not that great around here. Indian food takes second place to Portuguese dishes made of fish (and there is none of that around either). We are resigned to sticking with staple dishes like Aloo Gobi (potato curry) and rice. We tried the local alcohol last night called Feni. It's cashew liquor which sounded great but was much too strong for our liking (hard cider is about as strong as we get). We ended up having to drown it in Pepsi and close our eyes tight to drink it in large guzzles.
We'll probably be here in Palolem for two more nights before heading to the state of Karnataka.
tothesea,
k&m
Our time in Palolem has been very relaxing so far. There actually aren't that many people selling things on the beach as we thought there would be. It's pretty much the same young girls runnning up to us. Yesterday two got to talking with us and convinced us, against our better judgement, to look at their jewelry. They laid out sarongs for our princess-selves to sit on while they unloaded their bags of trinkets, bracelets, silver, and pendants and splayed them out before us. Everything you touched or showed some vague interest in they set aside and insisted that we put a pile together of things we liked before they gave us a price. So, just for fun, I picked out several things. In the meantime, two other older ladies (probably relatives) came up and sat with the group of us to give the two young girls some extra bargaining power and support I imagine. When it came time to find out the price I was flabbergasted to hear her price quote of Rs. 1050 (about $21US). I then unpicked from my pile a bracelet with glass beads (they were insisting they were stones) and some other things and left myself with two carved stone dolphin pendants. She said they were Rs. 150 each but I managed to get them both for that price. Magi had a sandalwood necklace sized to fit her and paid Rs. 100 for it. We were both satisfied with our purchases and we walked back to our room to do some reading while the rain poured outside.
Today we woke up late and noticing the sun was out, we meandered down to the beach. We walked for about an hour admiring and collecting some very unique seashells with beautiful patterns. We ate some Indian dishes at a hangout that seems popular with travellers. It's really different here in terms of local to travellers ratio. I mean, it's still mostly locals but we see more tourists here than any other place we have been (we hardly see anyone anywhere so it's not that hard to see more).
It is Independance Day today in India which they say is the biggest federal holiday of them all. We have seen a few plastic Indian flags hanging from motorcycles but here in Palolem things are pretty quiet. Goa was colonized by the Portuguese and the locals look a like a mix between southern Europeans and Indians. The Hindu temples are replaced with crosses and Virgin Mary statues decorated with Christmas lights. Sadly, the food is not that great around here. Indian food takes second place to Portuguese dishes made of fish (and there is none of that around either). We are resigned to sticking with staple dishes like Aloo Gobi (potato curry) and rice. We tried the local alcohol last night called Feni. It's cashew liquor which sounded great but was much too strong for our liking (hard cider is about as strong as we get). We ended up having to drown it in Pepsi and close our eyes tight to drink it in large guzzles.
We'll probably be here in Palolem for two more nights before heading to the state of Karnataka.
tothesea,
k&m
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
goan' to goa
After three nights spent moving to the south of India, we were too exhausted to take the two hour trip to Palolem yesterday. Instead we took an auto-rickshaw to the nearby resort town of Colva to shower, relax, and spend the night. We took a walk along the beach. The sky was grey and the waters murky. The waves were crashing and touts were out and about trying to sell us sarongs and henna tattoos.
Feeling uninspired, we retired to the hotel room after a dinner of spaghetti Indian-style (a little weird) and watched Dirty Rotten Scoundrels on television. It was a nice diversion for a few hours. This morning we woke up and decided to skip Goa all together figuring the weather was not going to be any better a little more south in Palolem.
We took an auto into the Margao bus station and sat on a bench sipping orange Mirindas waiting for the bus to Gokarna, Karnataka which was to arrive an hour later. Then, a bus pulled up that read "Palolem Beach" and we looked at each other and said, "You wanna just go there instead?" We decided to just go and check it out. The bus ride took an hour and a half and stopped every few hundred metres to pick up and drop off hordes of smiling, giggling, pre-pubescent schoolchildren in uniforms. It made me feel like the children here in the south are more promising than those in the larger cities who are not schooled but instead grope at your legs for some change while you're riding in an auto-rickshaw or call out to you the only words they know in English, "Hello chocolate", "Hello rupees", and "Hello chappati". I'm sure there are many city children who are in school during the day so we just didn't see them. Here though, instead of having the schoolchildren and the begging children, there are no children begging. There are also no men gawking, and relatively few people trying to sell things to you aggressively.
Palolem is a small village that sits behind a one kilometer long crescent shaped beach. The beach is lined with palm trees and would be your picture of a perfect island paradise if you were to imagine one.
Sadly, the monsoon has not yet ended and the skies are overcast, the waters murky. We were told that the sun was out this morning and can only hope that the monsoon has moved north, away from here. Hopefully we'll see more and more sun the further south we go.
The beach huts are closed because of the monsoon so we walked through the village and looked at a few places to stay. Most were dark and dank but we finally came to one whose freshly painted powder pink walls, balcony, and attached bathroom caught our attention. Magi bargained the owner down and we are now staying at Maria's Guesthouses for a mere Rs. 150 ($3 US) a night.
We're not sure how long we will stay here. Hopefully the sun will come out someday soon and we will really be able to enjoy this beautiful tropical landscape in all its glory.
This is a big week for birthdays in my family and I just wanted to send lots of love and kisses to Mom, Jeremy, Jennifer, and Kenya who are celebrating this week. I love you all and miss you!
So long for now. Don't be shy to email us, we have plenty of time to write back and internet here is real cheap and plentiful.
tothesea,
k&m
Feeling uninspired, we retired to the hotel room after a dinner of spaghetti Indian-style (a little weird) and watched Dirty Rotten Scoundrels on television. It was a nice diversion for a few hours. This morning we woke up and decided to skip Goa all together figuring the weather was not going to be any better a little more south in Palolem.
We took an auto into the Margao bus station and sat on a bench sipping orange Mirindas waiting for the bus to Gokarna, Karnataka which was to arrive an hour later. Then, a bus pulled up that read "Palolem Beach" and we looked at each other and said, "You wanna just go there instead?" We decided to just go and check it out. The bus ride took an hour and a half and stopped every few hundred metres to pick up and drop off hordes of smiling, giggling, pre-pubescent schoolchildren in uniforms. It made me feel like the children here in the south are more promising than those in the larger cities who are not schooled but instead grope at your legs for some change while you're riding in an auto-rickshaw or call out to you the only words they know in English, "Hello chocolate", "Hello rupees", and "Hello chappati". I'm sure there are many city children who are in school during the day so we just didn't see them. Here though, instead of having the schoolchildren and the begging children, there are no children begging. There are also no men gawking, and relatively few people trying to sell things to you aggressively.
Palolem is a small village that sits behind a one kilometer long crescent shaped beach. The beach is lined with palm trees and would be your picture of a perfect island paradise if you were to imagine one.
Sadly, the monsoon has not yet ended and the skies are overcast, the waters murky. We were told that the sun was out this morning and can only hope that the monsoon has moved north, away from here. Hopefully we'll see more and more sun the further south we go.
The beach huts are closed because of the monsoon so we walked through the village and looked at a few places to stay. Most were dark and dank but we finally came to one whose freshly painted powder pink walls, balcony, and attached bathroom caught our attention. Magi bargained the owner down and we are now staying at Maria's Guesthouses for a mere Rs. 150 ($3 US) a night.
We're not sure how long we will stay here. Hopefully the sun will come out someday soon and we will really be able to enjoy this beautiful tropical landscape in all its glory.
This is a big week for birthdays in my family and I just wanted to send lots of love and kisses to Mom, Jeremy, Jennifer, and Kenya who are celebrating this week. I love you all and miss you!
So long for now. Don't be shy to email us, we have plenty of time to write back and internet here is real cheap and plentiful.
tothesea,
k&m
Monday, August 12, 2002
moom b'y
We are going for a personal record- three overnight trips in a row. Two was pretty bad (Varanasi to Agra; Delhi to Dharamsala) but we decided to do it again and make it three. So two nights ago we took an overnight bus from Dharamsala to Delhi. It was your usual Indian bus trip complete with bossy Indian men hogging the seats, stops at every corner along the way, and wet, hot air blowing on your face. At least they played nice Indian music and turned the lights out every once in a while. We spent the day at Safeena's old apartment which is now inhabited by a gang of Canadians; the burly, aggressive type (joking). That evening, as Pizza Hut rang the bell to deliver Trish's two pizzas, breadsticks, and pop (yep, she's over the stomach bug), it was time for just Magi and I to jump in an auto-rickshaw and go to the train station. Instantly, we missed having her with us (though we did have more room for our bums in that little putter).
We sat across from three Indian men (oooh, they love to stare!) and on our bench sat an American lad named Jamie. He's a Columbia undergrad from the Detroit suburbs studying international relations and Hindi so we chatted with him about New York and other niceties. He spoke to our bunkmates in Hindi and they thought his attempts were pretty funny. Later, I think they got a little friendlier with him and helped him practise talking with them.
So we arrived in Mumbai this morning at 8.30 and went straight to the ticket counter to buy a ticket to go to Goa (beaches at last!).
We were successful and went to check our bags at the station so we could roam around the city all day (our train is tonight at 10.50).
Upon doing this, we learned our train this evening is not leaving from the station in which we arrived but from the one across town instead. We asked ourselves, "why did the ticket counter lady not tell us this?" but hey, welcome to India. Then we got really stiffed on a cab ride over to the Victoria station. The cabbie agreed on Rs. 110 for the trip and then near the destination tried to tell us it was Rs. 110 each! What a scam. He must have thought it was our first day in India but apparently it was only our second day here cuz we found out later that the ride should have only cost us about Rs. 25!!! Anyway, I shouted at him for being dishonest and he tried to bargain us down to Rs. 150 while telling us what a poor man he was. We can get suckered once, but we will not stand to be suckered twice!! Anyway, we arrived and I handed him Rs. 110. We thought we had escaped this type of rip-off scam but once again, bienvenue a India.
So yes, it's grumbling time. For everything we like about India so far, there must be two things we don't like. We enjoy the landscape and we loved Dharamsala but overall and in general, the people in India have left much to be desired. We really hope that things will be better in Goa, Karnataka, and Kerala which are our next destinations.
One more overnight and we arrive in Palolem. It's supposed to be a remote beach where you can live in small huts along the Arabian sea. Next time we write we will (hopefully) feel less jaded and more enthusiastic about our travels through India.
For the record, Magi is feeling better. We went to a pharmacist this morning and bought some Cipro which seems to have aided in settling her stomach pain. Prescription drugs in North America are bought over-the-counter here. Crazy!
tothesea,
k&m
We sat across from three Indian men (oooh, they love to stare!) and on our bench sat an American lad named Jamie. He's a Columbia undergrad from the Detroit suburbs studying international relations and Hindi so we chatted with him about New York and other niceties. He spoke to our bunkmates in Hindi and they thought his attempts were pretty funny. Later, I think they got a little friendlier with him and helped him practise talking with them.
So we arrived in Mumbai this morning at 8.30 and went straight to the ticket counter to buy a ticket to go to Goa (beaches at last!).
We were successful and went to check our bags at the station so we could roam around the city all day (our train is tonight at 10.50).
Upon doing this, we learned our train this evening is not leaving from the station in which we arrived but from the one across town instead. We asked ourselves, "why did the ticket counter lady not tell us this?" but hey, welcome to India. Then we got really stiffed on a cab ride over to the Victoria station. The cabbie agreed on Rs. 110 for the trip and then near the destination tried to tell us it was Rs. 110 each! What a scam. He must have thought it was our first day in India but apparently it was only our second day here cuz we found out later that the ride should have only cost us about Rs. 25!!! Anyway, I shouted at him for being dishonest and he tried to bargain us down to Rs. 150 while telling us what a poor man he was. We can get suckered once, but we will not stand to be suckered twice!! Anyway, we arrived and I handed him Rs. 110. We thought we had escaped this type of rip-off scam but once again, bienvenue a India.
So yes, it's grumbling time. For everything we like about India so far, there must be two things we don't like. We enjoy the landscape and we loved Dharamsala but overall and in general, the people in India have left much to be desired. We really hope that things will be better in Goa, Karnataka, and Kerala which are our next destinations.
One more overnight and we arrive in Palolem. It's supposed to be a remote beach where you can live in small huts along the Arabian sea. Next time we write we will (hopefully) feel less jaded and more enthusiastic about our travels through India.
For the record, Magi is feeling better. We went to a pharmacist this morning and bought some Cipro which seems to have aided in settling her stomach pain. Prescription drugs in North America are bought over-the-counter here. Crazy!
tothesea,
k&m
Saturday, August 10, 2002
dinner with Palden
Alas, it was bound to happen. We have all become sick. Trish and Magi have Delhi belly, the inevitable sickness caused by ingesting India in one form or another. Typically, they wake up in the morning with varying degrees of stomach cramps and yes, diarrhea (nothing is private or sacred in overseas travel). Trish, especially today, has very little appetite and Magi has been put on a bland diet that she has a very hard time sticking to. I have been battling a cold all week (accompanied by a raging appetite) that has taken itself through several stages from a sore throat, to headaches and congestion, and now, to excessive runnyness and sinus pain. I feel like we have become sick in the best of places though since Tibetan food is very nourishing and satisfying for the body and Dharamsala has the same effect on the soul.
Yesterday we learned to cook some of these delicious dishes with a new friend named Palden (we later learned that this is his Buddhist name but he never told us his given name). There are signs up all over town for different cooking lessons and with some deliberation, we decided to take Palden's classes and learn to make Tibetan thanthuk (pronouced "tan-tuk"; broad noodle and vegetable soup) and brown bread. We definitely made the right choice. At about 10 am we went to his apartment, only a few minutes walk from our guesthouse, and knocked on the door. He welcomed us in, we took off our sandals and sat on the floor in his very neat, cozy abode whose walls were graced by several images of the Dalai Lama. Then he served us Tibetan tea (Tibetans usually drink tea with lots of butter and sugar but we just drank it plain which is the way we all prefer it).
Soon after, Magi's Delhi belly returned with a vengeance (not because of the tea- that's safe) and had to go back to the hotel where she spent the rest of the day taking trips to the toilet and suffering stomach cramp pain (we brought her home some fresh brown bread and she smiled).
So, with only the three of us left, we put together the dough for the bread. Trish and I struggled to write down the recipes which are difficult because Palden does not use cups or teaspoons to measure flour, water, etc. but will hold up a hand of flour and say "one hand of flour for one person". As a result, our ingredient list looks a little like this: "three handfuls of flour, some water, (about) one tsp. of baking soda". After mixing the flour and water, it needed to wait for seven hours. In the meantime we made thanthuk which is what I have been eating for at least two meals a day while we have been here in Dharamsala (I love it and it makes me feel good). Like I said before, it's soup with some vegetables, garlic, salt, ginger, pepper, and very short and broad handmade noodles. The funnest part was making the noodles and I'm so excited to be able to go back home and make this soup myself. Tibetan food is rather bland, especially by Indian standards, and we laughed when Palden told us he does not like Indian food except for the chappati which is thin, plain, pita-like bread and probably the blandest aspect of any Indian meal.
We spent the better part of the time talking to Palden about his life. He is 26 years old and was a monk for ten years until he left the monastery last December. His family is from eastern Tibet and are nomads, moving about once every month along with the hundreds of sheep, yaks, goats, and horses in their herd. Palden knew early on that he wanted an education. This is, of course, is difficult if you are in a large family of nomads since you don't have a school to go to regularly and are usually very poor. Because he wanted an education, Palden and his family decided he should become a monk which was his only chance. So, when he was 17 he left his family and escaped here to India. It took him 8 days on bus to reach outside the Tibet-Nepal border and then him and the 20 refugees he was with had to secretly trek (on foot!) another 9 days through Nepal and into India. He has only heard about his family once since he has been here and says that if he chose to return to China, he would be imprisioned for 6-7 years because he escaped and met with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. It is wonderful that the Indian government has accepted all these Tibetan refugees but it is not a life without trouble once they are here. Unless you pay some very large baksheesh (bribes), it takes no less than 2 years for an Indian passport to be processed for the refugees. In the meantime, they cannot work and thus, tensions with native Indians rise. Being a monk is a good option for the refugees since they are housed and fed and given an education but Palden explained that because of this, many monks are "only Buddhist on the outside, not Buddhist in their heart." He decided to leave the monastery last year because he did not feel free. With over 250 vows to take as a Buddhist monk, he was not able to live the life he wanted even though he still strongly believes in the philosophy of Buddhism.
It was very enlightening (no pun intended) to spend so much time talking with Palden and learning, first hand, about the effect the Chinese occupation of Tibet has had on its people. With only 6 million Tibetans and over 11 million Chinese people living in Tibet now, Palden feels that a release of Tibet to Tibetans will be difficult now, if not impossible. Moreover, the Chinese government has now placed the same birth restrictions on Tibetans as it did on it's own people in the 1980's. Now that Tibetan families will only be allowed to have one child, nomadic peoples who rely on their large families to survive and the whole of Tibetan population will dwindle and eventually, it seems, inevitably become extinct. This is probably the worst crime the Chinese government has committed against Tibet.
I am writing so much today. There is still so much to tell. Meeting with Palden was so moving and I wanted to tell you all about this situation. A Free Tibet is so much more than a summer concert featuring The Beastie Boys. And sadly, the issue seems to be losing its status as a fashionable cause.
On to other things (keeping Palden in mind, always).
We attended a two and a half hour yoga class on Thursday afternoon. Though we have both been practising yoga for years, this was our first live class. I can't imagine it getting any better that that. The yogi Vijay was your classic strong, short pretzel-bodied Indian yoga man who had a very powerful and deep chanting voice. He was built entirely of flexible muscle and stern joy. We practised our asanas during a monsoon rain and laid down to relax in time for the sun to break out from the clouds while outside, birds chirped and cows mooed to privately celebrate the end of the storm.
The monsoon has not been troublesome for us since we have become able to predict a storm's arrival (usually around 2.30 p.m.) and we seek shelter in time. We went to see a Tibetan movie set in Dharamsala the other day called The Cup. In this town, going to see a movie is a sketchy affair. The day before we looked at the listings and noticed a section called "On Demand" under which The Cup was listed. We enquired about watching it since Trish had heard of it travelling the film fest circuit and had missed her chance to see it in Japan. The burly Indian man told us to come back the next day at 11 a.m. When we did, he ushered us into a back room with wooden benches and a t.v. overtop a table holding about seven VCRs and DVD players. His assistant took about 15 minutes to get the tape to work while we ho-hummed. A woman came in asking about the movie that was originally scheduled for this time period and the man told her it would be playing the next day instead (apparently, our request overruled the schedule since we were three and she was only one). It was all very interesting, the equivalent to opening up your garage and charging people in your neighbourhood to see the new releases from Blockbuster. But whatever, this is India and everyone is an entrepreneur. The movie, despite poor sound quality, was really interesting. The plot centered around a young monk, a rabid football fan, who would sneak out at night to catch the World Cup matches. Then he gets caught and pleads with the superiors to help them rent a tv and satellite dish to watch the final game. It was wonderful for insight into the life inside a monastery and into the cheeky things that monks do as regular children.
We bought a number of gifts from the street shops run by Tibetan refugees. Knowing they would be so ridiculously absurd to carry around on our backs, we decided to send them home. Maneuvering Indian bureaucracy is no fun but we managed to finally get a solid answer on when the post office would be open (10-2 on Saturday for packages). Here you have to get your goods wrapped in a shop before you send them home. It's not difficult as there are many signs around (in places as varied as restaurants and tailor's shops) that say "We Make Parcels". We settled on a tailor's shop and he agreed to wrap the package for Rs 90 (about $2). We expected a box and some tape but instead watched in awe as he sewed together a bag of white cotton using a sewing machine and then proceeded to hand-stitch the loose ends to close it tight to the package. Then a coworker stepped in, melting a stick of red wax, and placing hot round wax seals along the edges to prevent the bag from being ripped open. In the end, it looked like a fat, white pillow with 10 red wax circles along the seams. They gave us a marker to write the address on it and it was finished. We mailed it today for about $18US by sea. I can't imagine the U.S. customs in Washington, DC will be very happy to receive a non-resealable package from India! In about three months it should arrive to Magi's parents' home and we look forward to finding out the condition that it arrives in.
Tonight we leave Dharamsala.
In the morning, at noon, and even at night, you can look out onto the mountains surrounding Dharamsala, watch strings of Tibetan prayer flags blow in the wind, and hear the echo of schoolchildren singing in groups. It's so beautiful here. We regret having to leave on this 12 hour bus back to Delhi. And then, tomorrow night we part ways: Trish heads to Turkey to meet her sister for a vacation there and we leave for Mumbai and eventually, the beaches of Goa and Kerala in the south.
I feel some strange urge to share everything with you. Perhaps it helps me cement these memories, good and bad, in my own head and try to make sense of India. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my ramblings.
tothesea,
k&m
Yesterday we learned to cook some of these delicious dishes with a new friend named Palden (we later learned that this is his Buddhist name but he never told us his given name). There are signs up all over town for different cooking lessons and with some deliberation, we decided to take Palden's classes and learn to make Tibetan thanthuk (pronouced "tan-tuk"; broad noodle and vegetable soup) and brown bread. We definitely made the right choice. At about 10 am we went to his apartment, only a few minutes walk from our guesthouse, and knocked on the door. He welcomed us in, we took off our sandals and sat on the floor in his very neat, cozy abode whose walls were graced by several images of the Dalai Lama. Then he served us Tibetan tea (Tibetans usually drink tea with lots of butter and sugar but we just drank it plain which is the way we all prefer it).
Soon after, Magi's Delhi belly returned with a vengeance (not because of the tea- that's safe) and had to go back to the hotel where she spent the rest of the day taking trips to the toilet and suffering stomach cramp pain (we brought her home some fresh brown bread and she smiled).
So, with only the three of us left, we put together the dough for the bread. Trish and I struggled to write down the recipes which are difficult because Palden does not use cups or teaspoons to measure flour, water, etc. but will hold up a hand of flour and say "one hand of flour for one person". As a result, our ingredient list looks a little like this: "three handfuls of flour, some water, (about) one tsp. of baking soda". After mixing the flour and water, it needed to wait for seven hours. In the meantime we made thanthuk which is what I have been eating for at least two meals a day while we have been here in Dharamsala (I love it and it makes me feel good). Like I said before, it's soup with some vegetables, garlic, salt, ginger, pepper, and very short and broad handmade noodles. The funnest part was making the noodles and I'm so excited to be able to go back home and make this soup myself. Tibetan food is rather bland, especially by Indian standards, and we laughed when Palden told us he does not like Indian food except for the chappati which is thin, plain, pita-like bread and probably the blandest aspect of any Indian meal.
We spent the better part of the time talking to Palden about his life. He is 26 years old and was a monk for ten years until he left the monastery last December. His family is from eastern Tibet and are nomads, moving about once every month along with the hundreds of sheep, yaks, goats, and horses in their herd. Palden knew early on that he wanted an education. This is, of course, is difficult if you are in a large family of nomads since you don't have a school to go to regularly and are usually very poor. Because he wanted an education, Palden and his family decided he should become a monk which was his only chance. So, when he was 17 he left his family and escaped here to India. It took him 8 days on bus to reach outside the Tibet-Nepal border and then him and the 20 refugees he was with had to secretly trek (on foot!) another 9 days through Nepal and into India. He has only heard about his family once since he has been here and says that if he chose to return to China, he would be imprisioned for 6-7 years because he escaped and met with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. It is wonderful that the Indian government has accepted all these Tibetan refugees but it is not a life without trouble once they are here. Unless you pay some very large baksheesh (bribes), it takes no less than 2 years for an Indian passport to be processed for the refugees. In the meantime, they cannot work and thus, tensions with native Indians rise. Being a monk is a good option for the refugees since they are housed and fed and given an education but Palden explained that because of this, many monks are "only Buddhist on the outside, not Buddhist in their heart." He decided to leave the monastery last year because he did not feel free. With over 250 vows to take as a Buddhist monk, he was not able to live the life he wanted even though he still strongly believes in the philosophy of Buddhism.
It was very enlightening (no pun intended) to spend so much time talking with Palden and learning, first hand, about the effect the Chinese occupation of Tibet has had on its people. With only 6 million Tibetans and over 11 million Chinese people living in Tibet now, Palden feels that a release of Tibet to Tibetans will be difficult now, if not impossible. Moreover, the Chinese government has now placed the same birth restrictions on Tibetans as it did on it's own people in the 1980's. Now that Tibetan families will only be allowed to have one child, nomadic peoples who rely on their large families to survive and the whole of Tibetan population will dwindle and eventually, it seems, inevitably become extinct. This is probably the worst crime the Chinese government has committed against Tibet.
I am writing so much today. There is still so much to tell. Meeting with Palden was so moving and I wanted to tell you all about this situation. A Free Tibet is so much more than a summer concert featuring The Beastie Boys. And sadly, the issue seems to be losing its status as a fashionable cause.
On to other things (keeping Palden in mind, always).
We attended a two and a half hour yoga class on Thursday afternoon. Though we have both been practising yoga for years, this was our first live class. I can't imagine it getting any better that that. The yogi Vijay was your classic strong, short pretzel-bodied Indian yoga man who had a very powerful and deep chanting voice. He was built entirely of flexible muscle and stern joy. We practised our asanas during a monsoon rain and laid down to relax in time for the sun to break out from the clouds while outside, birds chirped and cows mooed to privately celebrate the end of the storm.
The monsoon has not been troublesome for us since we have become able to predict a storm's arrival (usually around 2.30 p.m.) and we seek shelter in time. We went to see a Tibetan movie set in Dharamsala the other day called The Cup. In this town, going to see a movie is a sketchy affair. The day before we looked at the listings and noticed a section called "On Demand" under which The Cup was listed. We enquired about watching it since Trish had heard of it travelling the film fest circuit and had missed her chance to see it in Japan. The burly Indian man told us to come back the next day at 11 a.m. When we did, he ushered us into a back room with wooden benches and a t.v. overtop a table holding about seven VCRs and DVD players. His assistant took about 15 minutes to get the tape to work while we ho-hummed. A woman came in asking about the movie that was originally scheduled for this time period and the man told her it would be playing the next day instead (apparently, our request overruled the schedule since we were three and she was only one). It was all very interesting, the equivalent to opening up your garage and charging people in your neighbourhood to see the new releases from Blockbuster. But whatever, this is India and everyone is an entrepreneur. The movie, despite poor sound quality, was really interesting. The plot centered around a young monk, a rabid football fan, who would sneak out at night to catch the World Cup matches. Then he gets caught and pleads with the superiors to help them rent a tv and satellite dish to watch the final game. It was wonderful for insight into the life inside a monastery and into the cheeky things that monks do as regular children.
We bought a number of gifts from the street shops run by Tibetan refugees. Knowing they would be so ridiculously absurd to carry around on our backs, we decided to send them home. Maneuvering Indian bureaucracy is no fun but we managed to finally get a solid answer on when the post office would be open (10-2 on Saturday for packages). Here you have to get your goods wrapped in a shop before you send them home. It's not difficult as there are many signs around (in places as varied as restaurants and tailor's shops) that say "We Make Parcels". We settled on a tailor's shop and he agreed to wrap the package for Rs 90 (about $2). We expected a box and some tape but instead watched in awe as he sewed together a bag of white cotton using a sewing machine and then proceeded to hand-stitch the loose ends to close it tight to the package. Then a coworker stepped in, melting a stick of red wax, and placing hot round wax seals along the edges to prevent the bag from being ripped open. In the end, it looked like a fat, white pillow with 10 red wax circles along the seams. They gave us a marker to write the address on it and it was finished. We mailed it today for about $18US by sea. I can't imagine the U.S. customs in Washington, DC will be very happy to receive a non-resealable package from India! In about three months it should arrive to Magi's parents' home and we look forward to finding out the condition that it arrives in.
Tonight we leave Dharamsala.
In the morning, at noon, and even at night, you can look out onto the mountains surrounding Dharamsala, watch strings of Tibetan prayer flags blow in the wind, and hear the echo of schoolchildren singing in groups. It's so beautiful here. We regret having to leave on this 12 hour bus back to Delhi. And then, tomorrow night we part ways: Trish heads to Turkey to meet her sister for a vacation there and we leave for Mumbai and eventually, the beaches of Goa and Kerala in the south.
I feel some strange urge to share everything with you. Perhaps it helps me cement these memories, good and bad, in my own head and try to make sense of India. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my ramblings.
tothesea,
k&m
Tuesday, August 06, 2002
to the great cool north
The clouds are clearing over Dharamsala and we have a better view of the misty mountain range atop which we are staying. They are blanketed with bright green trees, happily saturated with monsoon rain. We are in the state of Himachal Pradesh in the town that the Dalai Lama calls his home. It is also, not surprisingly, home for many Tibetan refugees and the narrow streets are lined with women selling handmade Tibetan wares. We have come all this way for the cool air of this old British hillstation (they couldn't take the heat either). To give you an idea of location, we are about 30 km east of the Pakistan border and 60 km south of Jammu & Kashmir. But not to worry, this is a place where border disputes with Pakistan are not an issue.
We three arrived here early this morning after a very twisty and sweaty 12 hour bus ride from Delhi. The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity. We woke up Saturday in Varanasi (Hinduism's Holiest city) and took a short day trip to a town called Sarnath which is the birthplace of Buddhism. We visited the spot where Buddha gave his first sermon. There is a lovely temple there now and a large park where you can enjoy the greenery (at long last!) and sit under the trees. As we were sitting there enjoying a moment of rest, a group of young men dressed in bright orange clothes (not monks) walked over and wanted to have one photo taken with us. Well, about 8 photos later they thanked us for our time and left us alone. Then a local man with his infant child asked me to take his photo and after I did he requested that I send him a copy and he wrote his address in the front of our guide book. He was very nice and seemed very proud of his child so we are happy to oblige. We went out to eat at a small restaurant nearby and had the most delicious thali (a combination plate of curries, roti, rice, and dal) for 55 rupees total. Three delicious and large meals with second helpings (courtesy of the waiter) for $1.10. The prices here completely astound us! Even with all the travelling we do, things we see (the Taj Mahal cost $15 for foreigners), meals we eat, and pretty nice places we stay, we are managing on $20US a day with no problem.
That night we took a very sleepless overnight train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. It was really a remarkable experience to see this massive white tomb that was built over 300 years ago maintain such a powerful presence over its beholders (including us! insert gasps and ooohs). We walked around it, took photos, went inside, and then sat outside on the cool white marble until our bellys rumbled and it was time for breakfast. We grabbed a bite and then headed back again to Delhi. We spent the day sipping cool drinks and cleaning ourselves up in a coffeeshop bathroom because again we were planning for another overnight ride, which brought us here to Dharamsala.
Because of all the activity and the sleepless nights on various modes of transportation, we're going to take it easy today. We are staying the whole week in this cool respite from the otherwise very humid and hot India. It's wonderful to be amidst all these smiling Tibetan people. Despite all the hardships they have endured at the hands of the Chinese government, it is incredible to see them be so cheerful and at peace.
Aaron is going to be in Thailand today and more than once has he been on our mind. We hope you are faring well in your new, if temporary, home!
For all you still not converted, you may find it interesting to log onto Trish's website for a complementary perspective of our time here in India together. And if you have any questions about what we are writing and seeing and doing, just jot it down in our guestbook and we'll answer them in the next post.
tothesea,
love k&m
We three arrived here early this morning after a very twisty and sweaty 12 hour bus ride from Delhi. The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity. We woke up Saturday in Varanasi (Hinduism's Holiest city) and took a short day trip to a town called Sarnath which is the birthplace of Buddhism. We visited the spot where Buddha gave his first sermon. There is a lovely temple there now and a large park where you can enjoy the greenery (at long last!) and sit under the trees. As we were sitting there enjoying a moment of rest, a group of young men dressed in bright orange clothes (not monks) walked over and wanted to have one photo taken with us. Well, about 8 photos later they thanked us for our time and left us alone. Then a local man with his infant child asked me to take his photo and after I did he requested that I send him a copy and he wrote his address in the front of our guide book. He was very nice and seemed very proud of his child so we are happy to oblige. We went out to eat at a small restaurant nearby and had the most delicious thali (a combination plate of curries, roti, rice, and dal) for 55 rupees total. Three delicious and large meals with second helpings (courtesy of the waiter) for $1.10. The prices here completely astound us! Even with all the travelling we do, things we see (the Taj Mahal cost $15 for foreigners), meals we eat, and pretty nice places we stay, we are managing on $20US a day with no problem.
That night we took a very sleepless overnight train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. It was really a remarkable experience to see this massive white tomb that was built over 300 years ago maintain such a powerful presence over its beholders (including us! insert gasps and ooohs). We walked around it, took photos, went inside, and then sat outside on the cool white marble until our bellys rumbled and it was time for breakfast. We grabbed a bite and then headed back again to Delhi. We spent the day sipping cool drinks and cleaning ourselves up in a coffeeshop bathroom because again we were planning for another overnight ride, which brought us here to Dharamsala.
Because of all the activity and the sleepless nights on various modes of transportation, we're going to take it easy today. We are staying the whole week in this cool respite from the otherwise very humid and hot India. It's wonderful to be amidst all these smiling Tibetan people. Despite all the hardships they have endured at the hands of the Chinese government, it is incredible to see them be so cheerful and at peace.
Aaron is going to be in Thailand today and more than once has he been on our mind. We hope you are faring well in your new, if temporary, home!
For all you still not converted, you may find it interesting to log onto Trish's website for a complementary perspective of our time here in India together. And if you have any questions about what we are writing and seeing and doing, just jot it down in our guestbook and we'll answer them in the next post.
tothesea,
love k&m
Saturday, August 03, 2002
the ganges
Delhi is now behind us but let me continue where we left off and talk a little more about things we did there. The night before we left Delhi we went out to dinner with a couple that Safeena knows from work. Mr. and Mrs. Harish invited us into their home before going to the restaurant and there we learned that it is customary to have a few drinks before dinner, not afterwards. We were introduced to a nice Indian rum called Old Monk that tastes like butterscotch and we snacked on cucumber and tomato slices topped with a mix of Indian spices. Dinner at The Copper Chimney was rich, large, and delicious and it's always wonderful to have so many vegetarian dishes to sample!
That's one of the things we love about India. Restaurants are labelled either "pure veg" or "veg/non veg". People you meet will ask you if you are veg or non-veg which is a reversal of what we are used to in North America where it is assumed you eat meat until you state you don't. It makes eating easy, delicious, and varied. It's true what they say about India being a paradise for veg's.
On our last day in Delhi, we went to Old Delhi which is kind of like New Delhi but super-concentrated. The streets are more narrow, the stores are even more stacked on top of one another, and it seems like there are many more people. Anytime you want to stop and snap a photo, things change and you miss your chance. Everything seemed so chaotic... cycle-rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, cows meandering, cars honking, bicycle riders announcing their presence, and thousands and thousands of people making their way all makes for a very crazy scene. But it all seems to work.
That night we took an 11-hour overnight train to Varanasi where we are now. It is still in the same state as Delhi called Uttar Pradesh which is the most populous state in India. Nestled along the bank of the Ganges river, it is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world dating back to 6 B.C. and is now home to 1.2 million people. The Hindu god Shiva resided here and is said to have declared never to leave the place. Also, Buddha gave his first sermon on the outskirts of town. It is said that anyone who dies here is released from the cycle of rebirth and that this is a very important thing to many people here.
To escape the incessant heat, we went to a so-called air-conditioned theatre yesterday afternoon to catch one of the latest Bollywood films. Bollywood is India's answer to Hollywood, not surprisingly due to the name, and is an enormous industry here. The film we saw is called Devdas and is about what most of Bollywood cinema is about- unfulfilled love. From what we could make out, the tale was very similar to Romeo and Juliet with it's feuding families and beaucoup de watery eyes. Ne'er a kiss though, as kissing is not allowed in Bollywood. Everyone stays fully clothed and within their own personal space bubble despite the heighted melodrama). Best of all, you don't have to understand Hindi to enjoy Bollywood because these movies are more centred around singing and dancing, costume and sets (those who understand the language seem to love the story too though). I have to say, even by Hollywood standards, the sets were absolutely amazing and the costumes were remarkable and of course, we enjoyed the musical aspect of it because the choreography is purely Indian and the songs are quite catchy!
Another aspect of Bollywood is length. People really get their money's worth since they are epic films and Devdas lasted 3 hours with a short intermission half way through. Since it's release, Devdas has been hugely popular and tickets for the film have been nearly impossible to get. We arrived at the theatre 75 minutes early for the 3.00 show and people were already outside waiting for the box office to open at 2.30. There were four lines- one for women's balcony seats, one for men's balcony seats; one for women's dress circle seats, and the last for men's dress circle seats. We got into the more expensive balcony seats for women line and since it is outside, we sweated profusely. You learn so much about Indian people from doing a mundane thing like buying theatre tickets. Here you must not leave a gap between yourself and the person in front of you, even if it is only a few inches wide. We made the mistake and two women squeezed into line ahead of us but it was our mistake! When the small 5x5 inch windows opened, we made our way to the front and paid about 80 cents for each ticket. Not bad!
The theatre had fans, not aircon, but we managed to withstand the heat with our waterbottles close at hand. People brought their talking toddlers to the show and no one seemed to mind them gurgling throughout the movie while, on the other side of the theatre, young men shouted to their friends in far-off rows. The power went out, the sound was too fast for the picture, and an usher came by to collect the pop bottles during the film, but no one minded and we didn't either. It was just kind of fun to be there.
This morning we woke up at 4.45 to go out in a boat along the Ganges. There are numerous "ghats" along the river here which are steps leading into the murky water of the Ganges. The ghats all have names and the town's regions are named accordingly (we are in Assi Ghat because we are closest to that one). We went down to the water, guided by a porter at the guesthouse, and were handed over to a dark, stout man in a wrapskirt with a large belly and giant arms who would be our rower. He headed down to the water by his boat and quickly washed up in the river while we made our way behind him. We travelled by the town's many ghats and watched in amazement as the morning in Varanasi awakened before our eyes. Among the thousands of sites by the river we saw were lathered people bathing, others brushing their teeth with brushes or twigs, people swimming, men doing a lot of laundry, people cleaning up fresh cow dung with their hands and tossing it into the river while goats and dogs stoodby, sewage being dumped by the town's water structure, and on the "burning ghat" were a group of people preparing a dead person's cremation (which our guide insisted we see up close, he pulled up to shore so we could have a closer look though we were all clearly not as interested as he was). In many cases, people cannot be cremated (they can't afford it, or in the case of pregnant women or children under 12 - we don't know why) so their bodies are simply thrown into the river. This is usually done at night and we did not see this but we have heard stories of people seeing these bodies a river cruise like ours and while sitting on the ghat last night we swear that amisdt the lightning and bats flying overhead that we saw at least one body floating downstream.
The river Ganges has changed us.
Safeena left us today. She is flying back to Delhi and then onwards to Canada. Then, she is moving to NYC to attend Columbia! Isn't it weird the way the world works? It's a little strange without her (now we have to navigate towns and menus alone) and of course we miss her. Thank you Saf!
A few things about India we learned very quick:
1) In Delhi, beware of poop-shooters. While walking down the sidewalk in a more touristy part of town, Trish looked down to her shoe and saw a glob of poop there (she was the only one not wearing sandals). We found out from our guidebooks that this is a popular trick so that you will then pay the partner in crime to clean the shoe. Unfortunately, no one approached her to clean the shoe so that was strange but a leaf did the job until we got home to wash it off.
2) Always count your change. I can't tell you how often we have been short-changed.
3) Ignore everyone. Even though people approach you to ask you where you are from or what you are looking for, they want to take you to their shops to buy something.
4) One thing about more touristy places to eat is that instead of wonderful Indian sauces made of tamarind and pickle chutneys, you're given ketchup! They must think Westerners love it on everything. So it's always best to go to a place that is a little fancier and more tucked away.
5) Try not to touch the water of the Ganges river. If you need details, read above.
And that's it for today. Despite all the craziness, we really have been enjoying our time here for the most part. Trish, who has just come back from travelling all over Asia, said that India is surpassed only by China in difficult places to be. This means either the rest of our destinations will be an enjoyable cake walk, or we will find it comparatively boring. We'll have to wait and see.
Thanks again for all the posts, we love reading them!
tothesea,
k&m
That's one of the things we love about India. Restaurants are labelled either "pure veg" or "veg/non veg". People you meet will ask you if you are veg or non-veg which is a reversal of what we are used to in North America where it is assumed you eat meat until you state you don't. It makes eating easy, delicious, and varied. It's true what they say about India being a paradise for veg's.
On our last day in Delhi, we went to Old Delhi which is kind of like New Delhi but super-concentrated. The streets are more narrow, the stores are even more stacked on top of one another, and it seems like there are many more people. Anytime you want to stop and snap a photo, things change and you miss your chance. Everything seemed so chaotic... cycle-rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, cows meandering, cars honking, bicycle riders announcing their presence, and thousands and thousands of people making their way all makes for a very crazy scene. But it all seems to work.
That night we took an 11-hour overnight train to Varanasi where we are now. It is still in the same state as Delhi called Uttar Pradesh which is the most populous state in India. Nestled along the bank of the Ganges river, it is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world dating back to 6 B.C. and is now home to 1.2 million people. The Hindu god Shiva resided here and is said to have declared never to leave the place. Also, Buddha gave his first sermon on the outskirts of town. It is said that anyone who dies here is released from the cycle of rebirth and that this is a very important thing to many people here.
To escape the incessant heat, we went to a so-called air-conditioned theatre yesterday afternoon to catch one of the latest Bollywood films. Bollywood is India's answer to Hollywood, not surprisingly due to the name, and is an enormous industry here. The film we saw is called Devdas and is about what most of Bollywood cinema is about- unfulfilled love. From what we could make out, the tale was very similar to Romeo and Juliet with it's feuding families and beaucoup de watery eyes. Ne'er a kiss though, as kissing is not allowed in Bollywood. Everyone stays fully clothed and within their own personal space bubble despite the heighted melodrama). Best of all, you don't have to understand Hindi to enjoy Bollywood because these movies are more centred around singing and dancing, costume and sets (those who understand the language seem to love the story too though). I have to say, even by Hollywood standards, the sets were absolutely amazing and the costumes were remarkable and of course, we enjoyed the musical aspect of it because the choreography is purely Indian and the songs are quite catchy!
Another aspect of Bollywood is length. People really get their money's worth since they are epic films and Devdas lasted 3 hours with a short intermission half way through. Since it's release, Devdas has been hugely popular and tickets for the film have been nearly impossible to get. We arrived at the theatre 75 minutes early for the 3.00 show and people were already outside waiting for the box office to open at 2.30. There were four lines- one for women's balcony seats, one for men's balcony seats; one for women's dress circle seats, and the last for men's dress circle seats. We got into the more expensive balcony seats for women line and since it is outside, we sweated profusely. You learn so much about Indian people from doing a mundane thing like buying theatre tickets. Here you must not leave a gap between yourself and the person in front of you, even if it is only a few inches wide. We made the mistake and two women squeezed into line ahead of us but it was our mistake! When the small 5x5 inch windows opened, we made our way to the front and paid about 80 cents for each ticket. Not bad!
The theatre had fans, not aircon, but we managed to withstand the heat with our waterbottles close at hand. People brought their talking toddlers to the show and no one seemed to mind them gurgling throughout the movie while, on the other side of the theatre, young men shouted to their friends in far-off rows. The power went out, the sound was too fast for the picture, and an usher came by to collect the pop bottles during the film, but no one minded and we didn't either. It was just kind of fun to be there.
This morning we woke up at 4.45 to go out in a boat along the Ganges. There are numerous "ghats" along the river here which are steps leading into the murky water of the Ganges. The ghats all have names and the town's regions are named accordingly (we are in Assi Ghat because we are closest to that one). We went down to the water, guided by a porter at the guesthouse, and were handed over to a dark, stout man in a wrapskirt with a large belly and giant arms who would be our rower. He headed down to the water by his boat and quickly washed up in the river while we made our way behind him. We travelled by the town's many ghats and watched in amazement as the morning in Varanasi awakened before our eyes. Among the thousands of sites by the river we saw were lathered people bathing, others brushing their teeth with brushes or twigs, people swimming, men doing a lot of laundry, people cleaning up fresh cow dung with their hands and tossing it into the river while goats and dogs stoodby, sewage being dumped by the town's water structure, and on the "burning ghat" were a group of people preparing a dead person's cremation (which our guide insisted we see up close, he pulled up to shore so we could have a closer look though we were all clearly not as interested as he was). In many cases, people cannot be cremated (they can't afford it, or in the case of pregnant women or children under 12 - we don't know why) so their bodies are simply thrown into the river. This is usually done at night and we did not see this but we have heard stories of people seeing these bodies a river cruise like ours and while sitting on the ghat last night we swear that amisdt the lightning and bats flying overhead that we saw at least one body floating downstream.
The river Ganges has changed us.
Safeena left us today. She is flying back to Delhi and then onwards to Canada. Then, she is moving to NYC to attend Columbia! Isn't it weird the way the world works? It's a little strange without her (now we have to navigate towns and menus alone) and of course we miss her. Thank you Saf!
A few things about India we learned very quick:
1) In Delhi, beware of poop-shooters. While walking down the sidewalk in a more touristy part of town, Trish looked down to her shoe and saw a glob of poop there (she was the only one not wearing sandals). We found out from our guidebooks that this is a popular trick so that you will then pay the partner in crime to clean the shoe. Unfortunately, no one approached her to clean the shoe so that was strange but a leaf did the job until we got home to wash it off.
2) Always count your change. I can't tell you how often we have been short-changed.
3) Ignore everyone. Even though people approach you to ask you where you are from or what you are looking for, they want to take you to their shops to buy something.
4) One thing about more touristy places to eat is that instead of wonderful Indian sauces made of tamarind and pickle chutneys, you're given ketchup! They must think Westerners love it on everything. So it's always best to go to a place that is a little fancier and more tucked away.
5) Try not to touch the water of the Ganges river. If you need details, read above.
And that's it for today. Despite all the craziness, we really have been enjoying our time here for the most part. Trish, who has just come back from travelling all over Asia, said that India is surpassed only by China in difficult places to be. This means either the rest of our destinations will be an enjoyable cake walk, or we will find it comparatively boring. We'll have to wait and see.
Thanks again for all the posts, we love reading them!
tothesea,
k&m