It was a long day as we flew to Goa with a three hour layover in Mumbai. There was added security via military with guns and K-9 dogs but nothing crazy two days after the terrorist attacks. We had reserved a beach bungalow in what we were told was an area still a secret to many travelers. In the 1.5 hour drive from the airport, it was as if we had entered an entirely different country. Complete contrast to Northern India. Exhausted after no sleep the night before, we took a three hour nap and went to dinner at the beach restaurant just 100 yards away. On your side of the world, did you see or hear about the rare phenomenon of Venus and Jupiters proximity to the moon? Over the water, it seemed near enough to take a seat in the half moon and be a part of the smile that appeared in the sky.
Over the next five days, we lounged on the beach, explored the neighboring beach areas and watched the sun disappear into the Arabian Sea every evening. We went to Panaji, the capital of Goa, for our last two days. Beautiful Portugese city. Quiet, slow pace, not many tourists.
My time with Sandi ended on December 8 when she flew back to London. For the last eight months, I've traveled alone with the exception of a few friends who joined me along the way for a short time. I wasn't sure how it would be to have a traveling partner...and yes, I told Sandi this...but I can honestly say it was so wonderful to spend a month together. Thanks Sandi for joining me...and for enduring India together. They are memories you and I shall never forget.
At this point, I've had some time to reflect on my visit to India. I realize that the prior blog entries make it sound as if we had a horrible experience. Let me be clear and provide a few lasting thoughts. I'll speak for Sandi and say that neither of us regret going to India. It is a very large country and we visited only a few places. India is beautiful...from the amazing colors to the unique architecture. A fascinating place to experience. Life is different than that of any place I've visited. Obviously, we went to the more tourist areas and our experiences were somewhat defined by that fact. The hard truth is that it is a difficult country for travel...especially for a woman. Everyone agrees. Perhaps if I had not already traveled for almost eight months, I may have had more energy and patience. And I wouldn't have been comparing it to places and experiences in Southeast Asia where my heart felt full. I have an appreciation for India. For what it was. What it is. What it may become. Will I travel India again? I think the answer is yes but only under differenct circumstances and with a larger budget. Thank you India for opening my eyes to something I will forever remember.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Further into India - Jaipur, Pushkar, Udaipur
Entered the new State of Rajasthan, India hoping for a different experience. Jaipur is home of the Pink City...which we found is not really pink. The walled-in Old City has buildings that are a terra cotta color and kind of look pink at sunset. A slight disappointment. The Amber Palace and Fort Agra outside of town is just now being rennovated for tourism but was well worth a look due to some stunning rooms. Sandi and I pretended to know the life of a concubine as we roamed the secret passageways. We were then dropped at the Old City. At this point, we thought we had it made by having a respectable and helpful guesthouse owner. He was our driver that day. That night he invited himself to have drinks with us on the rooftop. Interesting conversation was had as we ate a dinner that he insisted on serving us...which he charged us for in the end...but that was probably because we didn't let things go his way. By the end of our time there, he repeatedly invited himself into our plans and even on a day trip to Pushkar. Uh, no thank you strange man!
Two nights in Japipur turned into four nights in order to deal with Sandi's stomach issue and my sore throat as well as our need to rethink the rest of our India travel plans. We were thinking we had had enough. We pushed through our illnesses and still did a daytrip to Pushkar. It didn't work out exactly as we planned. The day consisted of eight hours on the bus there and back with only three hours to spend in Pushkar. We loved the little relaxed town but perhaps that was because we were only there for a short time. It's centered around a lake and is essentially a place tourists go to hang out and be lazy. It's small but beautiful. Our third favorite place in India.
That night, we decided to eliminate Jaisalamer and Mumbai from our itinerary and go straight to Udaipur and Goa. Sandi was unable to get an earlier flight so we were determined to make the most of our time in India while trying to find a place that better suited us. A couple hours later at 3am, Sandi received a call from her Andy notifying us of the terrorist attacks in Mumbai. I guess it was a good decision the night before that we made to skip Mumbai. We did however have to buy a flight ticket that had a layover in Mumbai two days later.
Night train delivered us to Udaipur the morning of Nov. 29. We immediately fell in love with the city. It's known as the Venice of the East...and we agree! It's picturesque, quiet, clean, serene and relatively free of touts. The city is situated around two lakes. From the waters edge (or a boat ride as we took), it's surrounded by palaces, Havelia (heritage) hotels, ghats and store fronts. The main lake is where you find the Lake Palace which was featured in the James Bond film Octupussy. After walking through the Rose Garden, we went to a palace on the top of a mountain to watch the sunset. I got an Aryvedic Indian massage the first night which is essentially where you have two litres of oil poured on your forehead that runs through your hair. I then joined Sandi on our rooftop for dinner. I found her talking to The Prince as we refer to him...aka owner of the guesthouse. We splurged on this hotel by spending $16 each per night rather than the usual $8 max. Earlier that day we were fitted for our Sari's to wear to an Indian wedding the next night night.
The next day we picked up our Sari's, bought jewelry and I got a Henna tattoo on both hands and wrists. Don't worry...it's not permanent! We toured the City Palace and had lunch where Sandi finally found a good white wine. Our boat ride around the Lake Palace greeted us with a light rain. We dressed for the wedding in the woman's home who made our Sari's. She didn't speak English. Neither Sandi nor I thought the Sari's were flattering but we bowed to tradition and local custom. We did look stunning though! The wedding was actually the Reception Dinner. An open lawn area filled with people standing and sitting while dance music played...though there was no dancing.
One of the things I have most enjoyed on this journey is observing the societal dynamics from country to country. Between men and women. Between locals and tourists. Of the incredible cultural traditions. Some countries are so steep in their culture that I feel I'm walking through the story of a fairy tale book. For example at this wedding, men and women stayed separate, whether eating, talking or just waiting. Some women who I'm guessing were the more affluent came up to say hello but spoke very little English. Others sheepishly smiled and kept their distance. Children were eager to say hello but the teenage girls would stand at a distance. Men roamed freely amongst the group, greeting us and asking a few questions. Very polite in this instance. The younger men surrounded us for the evening competing for our attention.
Dinner was buffet style and there were very few plastic chairs so we stood to eat rather than sit on the ground in our Sari's like many of the women. We presented the groom with our gifts which seemed a little awkward considering we didn't know what they were since they were purchased for us by our host. It's a privilege to have
Westerners attend a wedding. Women asked to have their photos taken with us on our cameras. Unfortunately, as these months pass, my camera is beginning to want to enter retirement. It won't hold a charge or take decent photos at night. So when the women would see the photos on screen, they kept wanting to redo it not understanding that it was the camera and not them taking a bad photograph. Because the reception was the night before and the wedding the night before that, this event was somewhat stoic.
We left after a couple hours and sat side saddle in our Sari's on motorbike. The Prince and some other guests were still enjoying the rooftop view out over the lake when we returned. We stayed up all night talking of life in India, cultural differences to that of America and the life of a tourist. We talked so long that we didn't have time to shower before leaving for the airport and 5:30am. Some things are worth sacrificing for lasting memories.
Two nights in Japipur turned into four nights in order to deal with Sandi's stomach issue and my sore throat as well as our need to rethink the rest of our India travel plans. We were thinking we had had enough. We pushed through our illnesses and still did a daytrip to Pushkar. It didn't work out exactly as we planned. The day consisted of eight hours on the bus there and back with only three hours to spend in Pushkar. We loved the little relaxed town but perhaps that was because we were only there for a short time. It's centered around a lake and is essentially a place tourists go to hang out and be lazy. It's small but beautiful. Our third favorite place in India.
That night, we decided to eliminate Jaisalamer and Mumbai from our itinerary and go straight to Udaipur and Goa. Sandi was unable to get an earlier flight so we were determined to make the most of our time in India while trying to find a place that better suited us. A couple hours later at 3am, Sandi received a call from her Andy notifying us of the terrorist attacks in Mumbai. I guess it was a good decision the night before that we made to skip Mumbai. We did however have to buy a flight ticket that had a layover in Mumbai two days later.
Night train delivered us to Udaipur the morning of Nov. 29. We immediately fell in love with the city. It's known as the Venice of the East...and we agree! It's picturesque, quiet, clean, serene and relatively free of touts. The city is situated around two lakes. From the waters edge (or a boat ride as we took), it's surrounded by palaces, Havelia (heritage) hotels, ghats and store fronts. The main lake is where you find the Lake Palace which was featured in the James Bond film Octupussy. After walking through the Rose Garden, we went to a palace on the top of a mountain to watch the sunset. I got an Aryvedic Indian massage the first night which is essentially where you have two litres of oil poured on your forehead that runs through your hair. I then joined Sandi on our rooftop for dinner. I found her talking to The Prince as we refer to him...aka owner of the guesthouse. We splurged on this hotel by spending $16 each per night rather than the usual $8 max. Earlier that day we were fitted for our Sari's to wear to an Indian wedding the next night night.
The next day we picked up our Sari's, bought jewelry and I got a Henna tattoo on both hands and wrists. Don't worry...it's not permanent! We toured the City Palace and had lunch where Sandi finally found a good white wine. Our boat ride around the Lake Palace greeted us with a light rain. We dressed for the wedding in the woman's home who made our Sari's. She didn't speak English. Neither Sandi nor I thought the Sari's were flattering but we bowed to tradition and local custom. We did look stunning though! The wedding was actually the Reception Dinner. An open lawn area filled with people standing and sitting while dance music played...though there was no dancing.
One of the things I have most enjoyed on this journey is observing the societal dynamics from country to country. Between men and women. Between locals and tourists. Of the incredible cultural traditions. Some countries are so steep in their culture that I feel I'm walking through the story of a fairy tale book. For example at this wedding, men and women stayed separate, whether eating, talking or just waiting. Some women who I'm guessing were the more affluent came up to say hello but spoke very little English. Others sheepishly smiled and kept their distance. Children were eager to say hello but the teenage girls would stand at a distance. Men roamed freely amongst the group, greeting us and asking a few questions. Very polite in this instance. The younger men surrounded us for the evening competing for our attention.
Dinner was buffet style and there were very few plastic chairs so we stood to eat rather than sit on the ground in our Sari's like many of the women. We presented the groom with our gifts which seemed a little awkward considering we didn't know what they were since they were purchased for us by our host. It's a privilege to have
Westerners attend a wedding. Women asked to have their photos taken with us on our cameras. Unfortunately, as these months pass, my camera is beginning to want to enter retirement. It won't hold a charge or take decent photos at night. So when the women would see the photos on screen, they kept wanting to redo it not understanding that it was the camera and not them taking a bad photograph. Because the reception was the night before and the wedding the night before that, this event was somewhat stoic.
We left after a couple hours and sat side saddle in our Sari's on motorbike. The Prince and some other guests were still enjoying the rooftop view out over the lake when we returned. We stayed up all night talking of life in India, cultural differences to that of America and the life of a tourist. We talked so long that we didn't have time to shower before leaving for the airport and 5:30am. Some things are worth sacrificing for lasting memories.
Onward in India - Agra
Our sleeper train delivered us four hours late the next morning to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. To distract us from the grossness of our bodies covered in bites, we showered and properly dresses as women to make us feel better. Starving, we went for a rooftop lunch where we proceeded to lounge all afternoon over multiple bottles of beer. We did not make it to see the Taj but went to a different rooftop with a view of Taj for more drinks. We made our way back to the previous rooftop across from our hotel for dinner and enjoyed two bottles of wine and excellent Indian food. Sandi loves the Chipati. Jen loves the Naan.
Day 2 in Agra we awoke at 6am to see the sunrise behind the Taj.(Note, we stayed in a very clean guesthouse that night.) The Taj is a magnificent structure worth the effort of visiting India. We then revisited the same rooftop for more wine and actually decided to extend our stay in India. This is such an incredible statement to write at this point because we decided again with 48 hours to leave as soon as Sandi could get a flight. More on that later. I haven't mentioned all the times we had been screwed over, ticked and taken advantage of. I think I've become a savvy traveler but it doesn't work for me here. Whether t's money, time, expectations or answers, this is the most dishonest and disrespectful place I've ever been. We may describe more later but I'm trying to refuse to let this topic take over this message to you. I knew it existed before I arrived and that it would be a challenge. It works for some travelers but this is not a place conducive to our personal character.
On our way to the train station, we asked our richshaw driver to stop so we could arm ourselves again with whiskey for the 13 hour night train that left at 6:20. He escorted Sandi across the street and made her hand him the money to buy it for us since apparently it's bad for women to buy it themselves. Sandi and I have both purchased in the past week and it's obvious by the stares and smiles we receive. Men literally swarm around us wherever we are.
We arrived at the platform at 6pm and the train started moving so we jumped on as it was pulling away. Two minutes later we realized we were on the wrong train but it was going to fast to jump off. Enter Chaos to the traveling scene of Sandi and Jen. We deboarded at the next stop with the advice from a man who actually helped us. Seeing as the train ticket is not in English, he informed us we had been dropped off at the wrong station to begin with. We cursed the error of our last driver. The Nice Man (as we named him) assured us our train was running late and that we could still make it. Our rickshaw driver did the best he could to quickly maneuver the streets bu we ran into a parade. This might be a good time to share with you the typical street scene in India. Imagine big trucks, little trucks, cars, horsecarts, autorickshaws, bicycle rickshaws, bicycles, motorbikes, cows, boars, buffalo and yaks, people and an occasional camel moving on the streets in all directions on both sides of the road with no order. It's complete chaos. Horns blare nonstop. Smoke fills the air. Street vendors wander the roads and people are eating as the world goes by inches away from the food they're putting in their mouths. Ok, back to the chaos.
We ran into the correct train station and reached the platform at 6:50pm. Indeed, our train was late. We didn't pull away from the station until 8pm. It may not sound like much as you read this but it was ridiculous. It was like a "Sandi & Jen Amazing Race Asia" episode in slow motion. While waiting on the platform with electricity going in and out, a little boy of about 5 of 6 years old was fascinated with us. For 30 minutes, he laughed, giggled, jumped, danced and played hide and seek with us. Sandi and I genuinely laughed and smiled for the first time since leaving Nepal...except for our rooftop time with drinks in hand. People around us watched and finally decided it was ok to smile at the situation. The parents of the boy were loving it the whole time. The Sadhu/Holy Man sitting on the floor finally convinced the boy to shake our hands and give us a kiss on the cheek which we happily returned.
This time we mixed our drinks in the toilet...aka bathroom of the train. Finally got good seats on the train where we didn't have to share the seats with anyone so our luck turned. Drink in coke bottles but also realized we had a few voyeurs on the train constantly staring (which gets old quickly). As the night progressed we refilled from our seats so the bottles was mostly concealed but after finally engaging in conversation with the Indian family occupying the 6 seats across from us (including one of the starers who turned out to be nice) we realized drinking is forbidden on the train. Also Jen's tattoo was pointed out again and the Hindu mother politely but strongly suggest she modify it to a flower. Train arrived at midnight to Jaipur and luckily Manog our guesthouse owner was still there to pick us up after arriving late. The place looked clean and he seemed nice so we settled off to a relaxing sleep.
Day 2 in Agra we awoke at 6am to see the sunrise behind the Taj.(Note, we stayed in a very clean guesthouse that night.) The Taj is a magnificent structure worth the effort of visiting India. We then revisited the same rooftop for more wine and actually decided to extend our stay in India. This is such an incredible statement to write at this point because we decided again with 48 hours to leave as soon as Sandi could get a flight. More on that later. I haven't mentioned all the times we had been screwed over, ticked and taken advantage of. I think I've become a savvy traveler but it doesn't work for me here. Whether t's money, time, expectations or answers, this is the most dishonest and disrespectful place I've ever been. We may describe more later but I'm trying to refuse to let this topic take over this message to you. I knew it existed before I arrived and that it would be a challenge. It works for some travelers but this is not a place conducive to our personal character.
On our way to the train station, we asked our richshaw driver to stop so we could arm ourselves again with whiskey for the 13 hour night train that left at 6:20. He escorted Sandi across the street and made her hand him the money to buy it for us since apparently it's bad for women to buy it themselves. Sandi and I have both purchased in the past week and it's obvious by the stares and smiles we receive. Men literally swarm around us wherever we are.
We arrived at the platform at 6pm and the train started moving so we jumped on as it was pulling away. Two minutes later we realized we were on the wrong train but it was going to fast to jump off. Enter Chaos to the traveling scene of Sandi and Jen. We deboarded at the next stop with the advice from a man who actually helped us. Seeing as the train ticket is not in English, he informed us we had been dropped off at the wrong station to begin with. We cursed the error of our last driver. The Nice Man (as we named him) assured us our train was running late and that we could still make it. Our rickshaw driver did the best he could to quickly maneuver the streets bu we ran into a parade. This might be a good time to share with you the typical street scene in India. Imagine big trucks, little trucks, cars, horsecarts, autorickshaws, bicycle rickshaws, bicycles, motorbikes, cows, boars, buffalo and yaks, people and an occasional camel moving on the streets in all directions on both sides of the road with no order. It's complete chaos. Horns blare nonstop. Smoke fills the air. Street vendors wander the roads and people are eating as the world goes by inches away from the food they're putting in their mouths. Ok, back to the chaos.
We ran into the correct train station and reached the platform at 6:50pm. Indeed, our train was late. We didn't pull away from the station until 8pm. It may not sound like much as you read this but it was ridiculous. It was like a "Sandi & Jen Amazing Race Asia" episode in slow motion. While waiting on the platform with electricity going in and out, a little boy of about 5 of 6 years old was fascinated with us. For 30 minutes, he laughed, giggled, jumped, danced and played hide and seek with us. Sandi and I genuinely laughed and smiled for the first time since leaving Nepal...except for our rooftop time with drinks in hand. People around us watched and finally decided it was ok to smile at the situation. The parents of the boy were loving it the whole time. The Sadhu/Holy Man sitting on the floor finally convinced the boy to shake our hands and give us a kiss on the cheek which we happily returned.
This time we mixed our drinks in the toilet...aka bathroom of the train. Finally got good seats on the train where we didn't have to share the seats with anyone so our luck turned. Drink in coke bottles but also realized we had a few voyeurs on the train constantly staring (which gets old quickly). As the night progressed we refilled from our seats so the bottles was mostly concealed but after finally engaging in conversation with the Indian family occupying the 6 seats across from us (including one of the starers who turned out to be nice) we realized drinking is forbidden on the train. Also Jen's tattoo was pointed out again and the Hindu mother politely but strongly suggest she modify it to a flower. Train arrived at midnight to Jaipur and luckily Manog our guesthouse owner was still there to pick us up after arriving late. The place looked clean and he seemed nice so we settled off to a relaxing sleep.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Welcome to India
After a lovely two days in Chitwan National Park in Nepal, we boarded a local bus for India. Before crossing the border we had eight hours to kill so we got screwed out of $20 to go see where Buddha was born. The border crossing process was like no other I have experienced. Reservations were made in advance but we again got screwed out of the car that we arranged and were literally forced onto a VERY LOCAL bus...costing even more money. This was after I made a huge scene on the street complete with loudness, arguing, profanity and trying to call the man who made the reservation. But my phone didn't work and we're sure the guy on the street called one of his friends pretending to be "our guy" because he wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise and we were hung up on twice. And this was after someone tried to grab our bags off the bicycle rickshaw as we crossed the border. The Immigration Office was an old wooden desk on the street where total mayhem ensued with absolutely no order. Being the only two women on the bus after dark, it was an uncomfortable ride as we were stared at for four hours....and "accidentally" brushed up against in inappropriate ways. A crazy movie played at the front of the shanty bus. Stops were not announced so we weren't sure where to get off and we were cutting it close to make our night train on to Varanasi. We were followed to the train station and onto the train by a guy who would not leave until I raised my voice at him in front of others to embarrass him.
We arrived Varanasi at 5am to find a guesthouse in the dark. Sandi stayed in the car to keep watch on our bags as I was led on a 10-minute speed-walk through dark alleys filled with cows, dogs, homeless people, huge piles of cow shit, heaps of garbage and flies only to find the guesthouse had no vacancies. Back through the passageways and onto another place. We checked in, slept for a couple hours and dined on the rooftop for breakfast.
Allow us to try and describe Varanasi. Think of the worst place you've ever been and magnify that by an infinite number. I realize this sounds a bit harsh so let me recite a few words from the Travelers Bible...aka Lonely Planet. The City of Shiva (Hindu God) is one of the holiest places in India where Hindu pilgrims go to wash away a lifetime of sins in the Ganges River or to cremate their loved ones. The city is the beating heart of the Hindu universe, a crossing place between the physical and spiritual worlds, and the Ganges is viewed as a river of salvation, an everlasting symbol of hope to past, present and future generations. The most intimate rituals of life and death take place in public on the city's ghats. It's literally where people go to die. It runs along the Ganges River which is lined with bathing Ghats. The Ganges River is so heavily polluted at Varanasi that the water is septic - no dissolved oxygen exists. Samples from the river show the water has 1.5 million fecal coliform bacteria per 100mL of water. In water that is safe for bathing this figure should be less than 500!!
Here is a bit about the cremations with rudimentary explanation based on what we witnessed and our basic understanding. Considering what is happening, it's quite unceremonious for the most part. Several hundred cremations take place every day...and often times only a few people were present for the ritual. Sitting by the river, we saw the following. A body is placed on the cement just inches from where people are walking...including us many times. It is covered in a white or colorful sheet. Flowers and other items are placed on top. The body is then carried to the river and placed on the ground so that the feet are in the Ganges River. In the meantime, wood is purchased and stacked in preparation for the cremation. We were told that the amount of wood and type of wood depends on the age, status, caste of the dead. In other words, more money is spent on better wood for those who "deserve" it. Huge stacks of wood line the river where people go to weigh it on scales that look like their 1,000 years old. The body is then placed on or within the stack of wood along with straw and other fire starters. Old rubber tires were also sometimes used for burning..which added to the toxicness of the air. The sheet quickly burns away and reveals the burning body beneath. The burning process can take many hours so imagine what the scene looks like if several hundred cremations take place every day.
There is much more to this ritual and religion that I am unable to explain but I also want to share this with you. Aspects of the Hindu religion dictate that children are not to be cremated because they are considered pure. So children under 10 or 12 years old are simply thrown into the river. Unfortunately, there is not much of a current to take them away so they often times float at waters edge, become bloated and are often desecrated by cows, dogs and birds thinking they are food. Sandi and I were speechless the first time we saw this sight. We were walking along the river and stopped in our tracks as we watched (and heard) a dog gnaw off the foot of a body. A group of cows coming towards us brought us back to the moment. We moved aside so they could pass and then walked in silence for a bit. Did I mention that cows are holy and always have the right of way? Even on the street amongst cars, rickshaws and pedestrians.
The air smells of burning trash and burning bodies which are dumped into the Ganges where people bathe daily. People wash their clothes and dishes in this same holy river. Uh, think of the statistic I noted above. And I will note for my importance that we did not have our laundry done in the city.
The river is lined with Ghats, temples, shacks, homes, guesthouses and touts trying to sell you an assortment of odd remembrances. We weren't sure we wanted something to remind us of the place. We spent the day walking the river, watched a couple cremations, took in the sights of the locals, were sprayed with Ganger River water which I think contaminated our feet as we breathed in the toxicness of Varanasi. At times, it was so difficult to breathe, I think we took five years off our lives in the 48 hours we were there.
Later in the day we noticed our feet and ankles were covered in hundreds of bed bug bites. Initially we thought they were from the very unhygienic sleeper train beds where we were in fact bitten by mosquitoes. Sandi actually was blessed with eight mosquito bites on her face alone. ..the only area of skin she didn't cover after we saw the swarm of them around our beds. Turns out the bed bug bites were from our couple hour nap that morning after we first arrived but we didn't realize it until the next day when we awoke with many many more bites after sleeping in tank tops.
After Day 1 we were ready to go but needed a night sleeper train ticket which typically needs to be bought in advance during this busy time of year. Luckily, we got one...but only because we ignored the advice of the guesthouse owners that it was impossible. I never believe what I am told since early on this travel so we went to the train station ourselves to investigate the ticket situation. We walked on the the Ganges area that we didn't see the day before. We stumbled upon an area of back alleyways filled with stores and vendors which was actually quite quaint. Note, it improved our assessment of Varansai We indulged in India desserts from a street vendor even knowing it was a risk to get sick...aka Delhi Belly.
The guesthouse had amazing food but the bed bugs put the place at the top of my list as the worst place I've stayed in eight months. (Sorry Sandi!) Bose, a part owner, was intellectually stimulating to talk with as he passionately spoke of India, Hinduism, Eastern vs Western vultures, tourists and philosophy. The other guy was creepy and actually used an appalling topic of conversation as an opener to flirt with us. Topic? Eating spicy food so one can clean their ass with water, not toilet paper...so the toilet paper could be given to the homeless instead of giving them money...which they now ask for only because of precedents that tourists have set. He claimed it's what Mother India would do. Ummm, whatever freak!
To help rid our mental images of Vara-Nasty, we armed ourselves with Indian Whiskey and Coke for the train while dreading the expected swarms of mosquitoes. Four Indian Dentists-in-Training who claimed to be doctors gave us a lecture and frowned on the fact that we were drinking. One particular girl informed me I have bad teeth and an offensive tattoo. (The Hindu "Om" tattoo is on my foot which is the most unsacred part of the body.) She informed Sandi she has bad skin. Who says honesty is the best policy?! So you can imagine the horror of Sandi and I discovering we would run out of whiskey before she stopped talking. Didn't matter how much we might have had to drink, they talked until 2am and never shut off the light.
As difficult of a place as it is to visit, we're glad we experienced Varanasi. We would have missed out had we not but we were glad to leave what Sandi so appropriately named Vara-Nasty.
We arrived Varanasi at 5am to find a guesthouse in the dark. Sandi stayed in the car to keep watch on our bags as I was led on a 10-minute speed-walk through dark alleys filled with cows, dogs, homeless people, huge piles of cow shit, heaps of garbage and flies only to find the guesthouse had no vacancies. Back through the passageways and onto another place. We checked in, slept for a couple hours and dined on the rooftop for breakfast.
Allow us to try and describe Varanasi. Think of the worst place you've ever been and magnify that by an infinite number. I realize this sounds a bit harsh so let me recite a few words from the Travelers Bible...aka Lonely Planet. The City of Shiva (Hindu God) is one of the holiest places in India where Hindu pilgrims go to wash away a lifetime of sins in the Ganges River or to cremate their loved ones. The city is the beating heart of the Hindu universe, a crossing place between the physical and spiritual worlds, and the Ganges is viewed as a river of salvation, an everlasting symbol of hope to past, present and future generations. The most intimate rituals of life and death take place in public on the city's ghats. It's literally where people go to die. It runs along the Ganges River which is lined with bathing Ghats. The Ganges River is so heavily polluted at Varanasi that the water is septic - no dissolved oxygen exists. Samples from the river show the water has 1.5 million fecal coliform bacteria per 100mL of water. In water that is safe for bathing this figure should be less than 500!!
Here is a bit about the cremations with rudimentary explanation based on what we witnessed and our basic understanding. Considering what is happening, it's quite unceremonious for the most part. Several hundred cremations take place every day...and often times only a few people were present for the ritual. Sitting by the river, we saw the following. A body is placed on the cement just inches from where people are walking...including us many times. It is covered in a white or colorful sheet. Flowers and other items are placed on top. The body is then carried to the river and placed on the ground so that the feet are in the Ganges River. In the meantime, wood is purchased and stacked in preparation for the cremation. We were told that the amount of wood and type of wood depends on the age, status, caste of the dead. In other words, more money is spent on better wood for those who "deserve" it. Huge stacks of wood line the river where people go to weigh it on scales that look like their 1,000 years old. The body is then placed on or within the stack of wood along with straw and other fire starters. Old rubber tires were also sometimes used for burning..which added to the toxicness of the air. The sheet quickly burns away and reveals the burning body beneath. The burning process can take many hours so imagine what the scene looks like if several hundred cremations take place every day.
There is much more to this ritual and religion that I am unable to explain but I also want to share this with you. Aspects of the Hindu religion dictate that children are not to be cremated because they are considered pure. So children under 10 or 12 years old are simply thrown into the river. Unfortunately, there is not much of a current to take them away so they often times float at waters edge, become bloated and are often desecrated by cows, dogs and birds thinking they are food. Sandi and I were speechless the first time we saw this sight. We were walking along the river and stopped in our tracks as we watched (and heard) a dog gnaw off the foot of a body. A group of cows coming towards us brought us back to the moment. We moved aside so they could pass and then walked in silence for a bit. Did I mention that cows are holy and always have the right of way? Even on the street amongst cars, rickshaws and pedestrians.
The air smells of burning trash and burning bodies which are dumped into the Ganges where people bathe daily. People wash their clothes and dishes in this same holy river. Uh, think of the statistic I noted above. And I will note for my importance that we did not have our laundry done in the city.
The river is lined with Ghats, temples, shacks, homes, guesthouses and touts trying to sell you an assortment of odd remembrances. We weren't sure we wanted something to remind us of the place. We spent the day walking the river, watched a couple cremations, took in the sights of the locals, were sprayed with Ganger River water which I think contaminated our feet as we breathed in the toxicness of Varanasi. At times, it was so difficult to breathe, I think we took five years off our lives in the 48 hours we were there.
Later in the day we noticed our feet and ankles were covered in hundreds of bed bug bites. Initially we thought they were from the very unhygienic sleeper train beds where we were in fact bitten by mosquitoes. Sandi actually was blessed with eight mosquito bites on her face alone. ..the only area of skin she didn't cover after we saw the swarm of them around our beds. Turns out the bed bug bites were from our couple hour nap that morning after we first arrived but we didn't realize it until the next day when we awoke with many many more bites after sleeping in tank tops.
After Day 1 we were ready to go but needed a night sleeper train ticket which typically needs to be bought in advance during this busy time of year. Luckily, we got one...but only because we ignored the advice of the guesthouse owners that it was impossible. I never believe what I am told since early on this travel so we went to the train station ourselves to investigate the ticket situation. We walked on the the Ganges area that we didn't see the day before. We stumbled upon an area of back alleyways filled with stores and vendors which was actually quite quaint. Note, it improved our assessment of Varansai We indulged in India desserts from a street vendor even knowing it was a risk to get sick...aka Delhi Belly.
The guesthouse had amazing food but the bed bugs put the place at the top of my list as the worst place I've stayed in eight months. (Sorry Sandi!) Bose, a part owner, was intellectually stimulating to talk with as he passionately spoke of India, Hinduism, Eastern vs Western vultures, tourists and philosophy. The other guy was creepy and actually used an appalling topic of conversation as an opener to flirt with us. Topic? Eating spicy food so one can clean their ass with water, not toilet paper...so the toilet paper could be given to the homeless instead of giving them money...which they now ask for only because of precedents that tourists have set. He claimed it's what Mother India would do. Ummm, whatever freak!
To help rid our mental images of Vara-Nasty, we armed ourselves with Indian Whiskey and Coke for the train while dreading the expected swarms of mosquitoes. Four Indian Dentists-in-Training who claimed to be doctors gave us a lecture and frowned on the fact that we were drinking. One particular girl informed me I have bad teeth and an offensive tattoo. (The Hindu "Om" tattoo is on my foot which is the most unsacred part of the body.) She informed Sandi she has bad skin. Who says honesty is the best policy?! So you can imagine the horror of Sandi and I discovering we would run out of whiskey before she stopped talking. Didn't matter how much we might have had to drink, they talked until 2am and never shut off the light.
As difficult of a place as it is to visit, we're glad we experienced Varanasi. We would have missed out had we not but we were glad to leave what Sandi so appropriately named Vara-Nasty.
Kathmandu #2
A late night resulted in la ate start to begin our trek at 1pm rather than 7am. Prem, the Driver, dropped us off at the start of the "easy trek that 80-year-olds can do". Sandi hearing this the night before was sadly mistaken when we realized that the start was a 1.5 hour steep uphill climb that no one else seemed bothered by. The steep climb really was a surprise to our preconceived notion of this "easy" trek. Meanwhile, Jen was carrying the backpack that contained both Sandi and Jen's items for the three-day trek. Our late start and frequent stops resulted in diminishing daylight and eventual darkness as we approached the guesthouse. Unfortunately, I had one of my episodes where I waitied too long to eat and was on the verge of passing out. Fortunately, it was as we approached the small village. Kamal sensed the danger of the situation and checked us in to a place. Unfortunately again, my "state of mind and body" caused us to stay in a guesthouse different than as planned because of the need to get me some help. The guesthouse had no heat or electricity. We ate, drank a foul Rice Whiskey and played cards by candlelight. A space heater became available as we decided it was time to turn in for the night in prep for the next day of trekking.
Day 2 of the hike was more inline with what we thought an 80 year old could handle although it still took eight hours. Beautiful scenery and different terrain. With one hour left to hike, we stopped in a village to enjoy a drink and bought a "local" chicken to eat that night for dinner. Locals smiled and laughed as we headed out of town because I was carrying the chicken in my arms. I named it Rocky. We walked through Nagacourt, a mountain town, and found our guesthouse where we handed Rocky over to the chef. As feathers were plucked and sauce prepared, we enjoyed drinks on the rooftop. Our bone-in chicken and Nepali dishes were served by candlelight.
Day 3 we returned to Kathmandu. Sandi and I did some shopping and tried out the cocktail menu at several different places in Thamel. As we settled in at Buddha Bar, we were surprised to see our friends. Our Sandi & Jen Day turned into a Whiskey and Hookah Night. Sandi went clubbing.
After sleeping in the next morning we had lunch at Helena's which has the highest rooftop restaurant in Kathmandu. We walked the Thamel area and Sandi was off on motorbike again to see the biggest stuppa in Nepal, Bodnath. I had seen it the week prior, so I chilled in the garden.
That night at our guesthouse in a tiny "kitchen", we prepared homemade MoMo's for a group of 20 people, all of whom had become our friends over the past two weeks. It took three hours. MoMo's are like steamed dumplings filled with a variety of options. Ours were beef and I know this for sure because it was my bare hands mixing in all the spices into the raw meat. Sandi and I scooped, folded and pinched them to perfection. Oh, and the electricity was out so this was done by candlelight. Screwdrivers were the drink of choice. Nepali and Western songs were played via iPod. The homemade sauce and dumplings were devoured.
The next day we set off for Chitwan National Park with some Kathmandu friends. We spent three days, two nights doing jungle and elephant walks, canoe ride, elephant riding in the river which turned into more of a competition to see who could stay on the elephant the longest. I won. The first evening we enjoyed drinks riverside and watched the sun set. The second evening we ate a raditional Nepalese dinner on mats on the ground via candlelight. Again, I got to eat with my fingers! Note...Sandi prefers to use proper silverware when eating mush and rice. Traditional dance performances followed and Sandi and I joined in for the crowd to watch. Suddenly, it was as if the papparazzi had arrived with cameras flashing. Sandi left the quietness of traditional culture and ended up at a local rooftop restaurant. The locals doned her with a traditional man's National Hat and danced for hours. Again, she took home the Karoke prize. "What is hammered"? I should mention Sandi was lucky enough to ride motorbike for the six hours to Chitwan (she loved it!) but she was stuck with me on the bus the morning we headed to India. That morning, we waved a sad goodbye to our friends.
Day 2 of the hike was more inline with what we thought an 80 year old could handle although it still took eight hours. Beautiful scenery and different terrain. With one hour left to hike, we stopped in a village to enjoy a drink and bought a "local" chicken to eat that night for dinner. Locals smiled and laughed as we headed out of town because I was carrying the chicken in my arms. I named it Rocky. We walked through Nagacourt, a mountain town, and found our guesthouse where we handed Rocky over to the chef. As feathers were plucked and sauce prepared, we enjoyed drinks on the rooftop. Our bone-in chicken and Nepali dishes were served by candlelight.
Day 3 we returned to Kathmandu. Sandi and I did some shopping and tried out the cocktail menu at several different places in Thamel. As we settled in at Buddha Bar, we were surprised to see our friends. Our Sandi & Jen Day turned into a Whiskey and Hookah Night. Sandi went clubbing.
After sleeping in the next morning we had lunch at Helena's which has the highest rooftop restaurant in Kathmandu. We walked the Thamel area and Sandi was off on motorbike again to see the biggest stuppa in Nepal, Bodnath. I had seen it the week prior, so I chilled in the garden.
That night at our guesthouse in a tiny "kitchen", we prepared homemade MoMo's for a group of 20 people, all of whom had become our friends over the past two weeks. It took three hours. MoMo's are like steamed dumplings filled with a variety of options. Ours were beef and I know this for sure because it was my bare hands mixing in all the spices into the raw meat. Sandi and I scooped, folded and pinched them to perfection. Oh, and the electricity was out so this was done by candlelight. Screwdrivers were the drink of choice. Nepali and Western songs were played via iPod. The homemade sauce and dumplings were devoured.
The next day we set off for Chitwan National Park with some Kathmandu friends. We spent three days, two nights doing jungle and elephant walks, canoe ride, elephant riding in the river which turned into more of a competition to see who could stay on the elephant the longest. I won. The first evening we enjoyed drinks riverside and watched the sun set. The second evening we ate a raditional Nepalese dinner on mats on the ground via candlelight. Again, I got to eat with my fingers! Note...Sandi prefers to use proper silverware when eating mush and rice. Traditional dance performances followed and Sandi and I joined in for the crowd to watch. Suddenly, it was as if the papparazzi had arrived with cameras flashing. Sandi left the quietness of traditional culture and ended up at a local rooftop restaurant. The locals doned her with a traditional man's National Hat and danced for hours. Again, she took home the Karoke prize. "What is hammered"? I should mention Sandi was lucky enough to ride motorbike for the six hours to Chitwan (she loved it!) but she was stuck with me on the bus the morning we headed to India. That morning, we waved a sad goodbye to our friends.
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