Happy Valley

On Saturday a small group of us went to Happy Valley. This is a Tibetan refugee camp that was the first town that the Dali Lama established when he fled Tibet. He came here and decided that there needed to be a place that could house and shelter anyone who would come. Now, there are over 2,000 children who walk across the Himalayas which takes about a month for them to walk – by themselves and reach Happy Valley.

We went there to look at the temple and just to see the landscape. Happy Valley is not as touristy (because it is a refuge camp) but its nothing like a camp like you would find in South Africa. They have built several schools and homes and keep the place very clean. It was amazing…peaceful. I saw my first Gryphon Vulture!

Its better to be late than early to heaven...

On this particular outing, I saw more people releaving themselves than any other time (my count is up to 50 men).  They have a saying (in your best indian accent) - Everywhere in India is Urinal....which is true.

Our walk down from the top of the falls we interrupted 3 women doin their business.  While the bus was stopped (for some reason we were never told but the bus ride home was detained for almost 1 hour) we counted 10 people who without leaving my seat I was able to "catch" in the act.  There is no modisty, no sense of shyness which is refreshing and revulting at the same time.  I am not sure what kind of spectical I would make if I tried, but I would also take the time to find a friendly bush.  One lady just squatted right outside the bus door, no pretense in trying to cover up or block particular views.  In some ways I am envious and in others, it makes me wonder what is on the bottom of my shoes.

The ride back was an adventure as well, just because we were warned to NOT wait and take the last bus because it would be packed (last bus at 5pm). 

So we decided to take the 3:30 bus – and our decision came from the fact that we were in the market at 3:30 and did not know when the next bus would be because there are no posted signs or any sort of actual schedule, and a bus happened to drive up.  Serendipitous I believe would be a good word here.  This bus was overflowing with people and yet some how, they still made room for us…poor Beck was practically hanging out the door with her face in my armpit as I clung to the overhead bar to keep myself in.

Some people unloaded about 2 km up the road which was nice, but not all.  5km after that the bus came to this unexplained stop (I will never know why) and this is where I got my lovely view of toilet habits.

The roads are so incredibly windy and there are no speed limits, just signs like Speed Thrills but Kills or Its Better to be Late than Early to Heaven.  Good advice.  Sometime I will get a photo of one of those signs.  The roads are also not well maintained, nor does anyone actually stay on their side of the road and everyone insists on driving as fast as absolutely possible - including the bus driver.  Each road has been built using the LEAST amount of ground possible with no barriers.  So, as we drive along I could barely stick my head out the window and would be able to see 200-300ft down - because that is how close the driver would drive to the edge, and because that is where the road stopped. The roads are thrilling and terrifying, which is hard to deal with because I dread each corner.  Mostly because of the stupid horn blaring, yet terrified if the driver does not honk because of on coming traffic.

Ive been reading in the evenings adventures of Jim Corbet in the jungles and on this ride found myself straining to look down these cliffs adn along the game trails I can see through the peaks into the jungle hoping to catch a glimpse of something other than a cow, monkey, crow, or humans.  I hear there are elephants around....

Kempty Falls and Porn stars

Yesterday Beck (British gal Ive befriended) made it to Kempty falls successfully. I say successfully because of the inherent challenge of riding the local bus system. We had to figure this out, which really in the long run takes asking as many people as you can to find someone who speaks enough English to indicate that we need to go to a certain office at the end of a long line of shops. Of course the shop is not marked with a helpful sign, rather a gigantic Coke billboard....

What we found out though is we were on the wrong end of town to catch the local bus that goes to the falls.  So, we took a taxi over to the other busstop.  The taxi cost us $2.00 and saved us 4km of walking up hill.  He dropped us off at a booking agency instead of the bus stop - or so I thought.  I am sure he would get some commission if we had decided to book a trip instead of taking the local bus which is why he did so...but the guy running the agency was kind enough to indicate that if we just wait there the local bus will come by. - soon.

It took about 30 minutes or so waiting and this bus with only Hindi words splattered across it comes blaring up the hill (horns are used  constantly).  The booking guy runs out yelling at us that this is the bus we need to take he is waving his arm frantically to indicate the bus should stop.  The bus "stops" sort of.  I have found out that the bus never really stops here, you just have to hop on and hop off and hopefully the drive will slow down enough....but maybe not, only when traffic slows will the bus slow.  It cost us 35R for both of us to ride the bus the 25km to the falls.  Thats not quite $1.00

To get to the falls we wend down in elevation

changing the vegetation slightly to more pine trees and oak shrub looking things.  The guy taking our money for passage tapped Beck on the shoulder indicating we needed to get off.  This was our only indication we had arrived at the falls.  There were no signs, no labels anywhere.  So we got out and were in this little market place and just decided to go with the flow of traffic – traffic including cows, goats, people, and sewage.  We passed a bunch of corn stands and more cows to get to this bridge.  Since this is the off season lots of things were closed.  We took photos a the bridge and since going down was not an option (everything was closed) we hiked up.  There were multiple tiers of this waterfall.  It was pretty, but not as amazing as everyone makes it out to be.  I suppose if you have saved up your $$ and never seen a waterfall before, or because 90% of Indians do not live near large bodies of water, these pools and tiers would seem impressive.  I know that sounds snotty, but I was far more enthusiastic about surviving the bus ride and getting myself around than by the falls.

We hiked up quite far, and at one point were accosted into taking photos with a family.  I have later come to find out that not many people in India see white people and therefore think that we are all celeberties. Which explains the staring that people do, however, I have now been educated that if single men, or group of men decide that they too want pictures with us that I should deny them and leave immediately.  It is OK for a family to take photos with us but concerning the men, I should be aware that I may now be a porn star on the internet.  Both Beck and I did not know this, and we were amiable and slightly baffeled.  We even joked about charging 10R per picture - so if you see photos of us on the internet...well, now you know why.  Those Indians are good with computers after all!

Language lessons and living...

Again, I must apologize I will get pictures up some time!  This is so increadiably frusturating for me because I can't use my own laptop to get pictures up...there are problems it seems interfacing with the system here and my laptop.

I have taken pictures of my text book (which I will post soon - yeah right).  Hindi is a great language, of course the only other language I studied was German which is very gutteral.  Hindi only has some gutteral sounds that are actually Urdu words which are rarely used OR are just flubbed becasue the Hindi speakers do not care if they say it correctly - very unfrench like.  The bar across the top of all Urdu/Punjabi/Hindi etc is just a way to connect all of the sounds together.  The actual letter(sound) is written below or above the bar across the top.  There are several similar vowels a i o u and e but then they also have au, ai, ah, r, and one more I think.  Most of the typical vowels a i o and u have the short sound as well as a long sound, whereas they only use e in the long form as in "feet", you would never find "fed".  I am on chapter 5 and still have not learned all of the consinents and we usually learn 4 a day.

I have 2 more chapters before I stop learning the alphabet.  As any of you know who has learned a different language, congigating the verbs is an important part.  In hindi the verb is always at the end of the sentence.  So, think of Yoda and how to speak in the other language....as in, should you want to say "The book is on the table" this would translate to Kitab mez men hai or literally = "Book table on is".  They do not use words like The, There, Them, A, An...

Mussoorie is a small hilltop village (called a hill station) where I walk to school every day up hill - and in some cases I could actually say that silly saying of going to school uphill both ways - it is a freaking maze of roads and cow trails.  You can use google earth to zoom in and look.  I am staying in a guest house/hostel thing called Ivy Bank House.  I have my own room and bath and little receiving area. They feed me every day (which I need to leave for here soon).  The food is interesting, lots of Dahl every day....Though yesterday I went into town and ate pizza at Domino's.  Being that we are in a culture that does not eat beef, I am willing to break my rules of not eating in a WESTERN fast food chain becasue I am rather curious as to what McDonalds is like (no burger = what??) and was curious as to Domino's with the whole pepperoni thing (pig is filthy animal and only eaten in secret by poor people).  The pizza sauce tasted like ragu + ketchup and had chicken and onion on it.  It was the BBQ chicken pizza.  It was just so nice to eat cheese!

They do have peanut butter (locally made) as well as yak cheese (which I am looking forward to eating).  They have locally made cheese as well, but it is very expensive and really only foreigners eat it.  I have eaten at a Tibetan place and had Momo's which are these amazing dumpling things with chicken and - CHEESE!

OH and OH MY GOSH!  I ate a potato dish!  Yup, you do not need to rub your eyes, you read that correctly...potato and KERRY without gaging!!  As I keep saying to byron - you must try different variations because sometime somewhere someone may actually find an interesting way to cook the food you have never had before.  Well, the cook at Ivy Bank has found a way for me to eat a potato dish and enjoy it.  I have also enjoyed eggplant like never before as well as pumpkin.  It is strangly easy to stop eating meat and then when I do have it - its like christmas!  YUMMY.

Mussoorie - Yeah!

I have been in Mussoorie for 2.5 days now and I am extremly happy.  This is the BEST town to get adjusted to the constant staring and even racial comments.  I say that because it is not as much.  There are many foreigners as well as British people.  The town is an old retrete for parlement people.  This used to be a summer palace area for royalty.  Now it is a little bubble of happyness in the foothills of the Hymalayas.

I have had 4 classes thus far in beginning Hindi and I am hoping all will continue as is.  The 2 instructors I have - one for grammar/vocab and one for reading/writing are very patient and happy to help me.  I hear there are impatient teachers and I dread having them.  Learning a new language is hard and anyone who can pick them up by ear alone is amazing.  I feel like a small child while reading.  The school is located almost at the top of one of the peaks, so the walk in the morning takes me about 15 minutes and I think I increase about 300ft in elevation over 1 km.  I will have to check those numbers, but just take for granted it is STEEP!

Today is the first day that Internet has been working on the mountain.  The server has been down for a while from my understanding.  This weekend is Diwali which is a holy holiday for Hindu's - the festival of lights.  It is much like our Christmas.  Wait...no...more like celebrated as much as our christmas.  Diwali is a time to prey with family, honor ancestors, give sweets and small gifts and clean the house.  Every member of the house will clean (which is something considering many never pick up a broom because they have servants).  Sometimes they go as far as repainting the entire house.  They will light the houses with candels and twinkle fairy lights and the children have already taken to lighting firecrackers.  The not so funny thing about the firecrackers is that they are like the M80's - is that right?  Those firecrackers that are just a big BOOM.  In this country there is no regulations on fireworks so, many shoot flames as well as make a big boom.

Soon, I will post pictures, but until then...I hope my words are enough to tell you that this is a wonderful place.

Indian style

So the train ride presents a further adventure. The adventure that comes with dealing with my first real Indian food and toilet experience. The fact that I had to build up the courage to enter the bathroom is what makes me laugh. There seems to be a theme of a strange build up of expectations with regards to many experiences in making me more nervous than I need to be.


On the train they passed out bottled water, then tea, then a meal The meal was crazy. I did not get the same thing as my seat partner. She got 2 fried croquet things with random veggise and french fries cooked in them with 2 slices of white bread. I too got the white bread, but also I get this tray with what looks to be a fried donut and some white croquet looking rice patty thing but its not rice. I get a tray with curry and then one more tray with this white goo. Reminds me of gravy you pour over biscuits that has been refrigerated so has the movement of jelly. I eat the bread and tentatively taste the curry soup and donut. They do not taste as expect. I open the bottled water and pour a small dixi cup. I am 1/2 way through the cup when the paranoia hits - CRAP! can I even drink bottled water...thats OK right? Shoot - can I eat the curry, it looks more water based than coconut milk based. It was hot right? I saw steam?? I can't remember. I am now terrified to go to the bathroom. My stomach rumbles from the psychological terror I am putting it through.

I am watching the people head to the bathroom quite intensely (it is OK to stare in India - not rude unless you are a woman staring at a group of men, then you are asking for "IT"). I am trying to see if there is a trend to the 2 stalls....like a man and woman's or something. I am building up the courage waiting for the right moment to get into line. Finally I do taking my purse with my stash of toilet paper and get in line. I notice above the door the labels "Indian Style" and "Western Style". Phew - something I recognize, I will not fall in yet...but Holly crap! What if I get the Indian Style?? Oh well...guess I will just find out. Fortunately or unfortunately, my turn results in the western style bathroom. This means a tall toilet that still empties directly onto the tracks. But there is TP! There is also a cup with water, but I am weak and use the TP.

Feeling rather proud of myself for handling the bathroom the first time (which is silly I know), I do not prepare, I do not pay attention and I do not grab my purse. I just get up and head to the bathroom....you guessed it...Indian Style is open. Not wanting to look silly or picky I go in. I wish I had my camera - maybe some other day. It is a metal urinal with high rise foot places and a hole. Now that I come to think of it I think I was facing the wrong way. I still don't know how the cup with water is supposed to work. I tried splashing and pretty much just splashed the wall instead of myself. So, I would say failed attempt #1.

I have however, used the hand sanitizer thingie more in the past 2 days than I have used in the past 6 months. Maybe I am to prissy and I am sure that this will fade as my standards change and adapt.

mam - You have sex?

Today was my train ride to Dehra dun. The taxi came 30 minutes earlier than scheduled (it came at 5:20 instead of 5:50am), so waking up was a bit of a haze filled with frantic thoughts of oversleeping and missing my train, putting shoes on before pants type of things. The train station is hyped up to be this chaotic mess and a very "dangerous" place to be robbed and taken advantage of. Now that it is over, there isn't a lot of difference between the train station here and one in Mexico or even Sweden. Just a lot of families trying to get somewhere. The more I looked around the less scary it was and the sillier I felt for giving into the hype. It is overwhelming at first YES. But if you get the chance to take a breath (which is difficult) then it isn't as bad.
Anyway, I had arranged that the taxi driver would negotiate payment with a porter to help me get my bag to the station. The traffic wasn't bad until you got close to the station. There were street carts with little flood lights and lots of steaming pots. A porter claimed our car even before we stopped. The driver negotiated a price for me and he was obviously agitated because 2 porters were claiming that they needed to both be paid to help carry such a heavy bag. My mistake I realize. I had gotten out and indicated that it was heavy, as well as the ticket from the airlines on it saying HEAVY. Later, I saw porters with 2 or 3 suitcases on their heads as well as carrying one, so NEVER indicate your bag is too heavy....it will only cost you more.

During the walk to my station (platform #16 on the otherside of the station) the porter strikes up a conversation asking if I have any kids. In his broken english he asks if I am married. Not wanting to have any problems I hope to stave him off by answering yes. I am married, but no kids. He is shocked I have no kids. He has 2 kids. He also asks my age. I remember reading in the lonely planet guide as well as the Fulbright handbook that says Indians may ask questions that we would normally consider rude but are not rude to them...like how much money do you make....I keep this in mind as I politely answer his questions. His engilsh is very poor.

We arrive at my platform and he then tries to negotiate more $$ to help me load my luggage onto the train. I tell him that this was included in the price, but he says that this is 1 hour wait which will cost more. I do not argue because this is true and I feel uncomfortable making someone wait with me for 1 hour. I tell him I can manage and he then starts to haggle with me insisting I need help, and I insist I do not. Finally he says "OK, I will help you no charge. I wait". I say OK thinking this is an odd change of events. We sit on the curbe and begin to wait (it is just now 5:50 and my train comes at 6:50).

He strikes up a conversation again, "Mam - I have 2 children and sex 2 times. I have sex 3 times, 1 night". I am thinking this is an odd coversation with him telling me his prowis with his 22 year old wife. I ask how old his children are (5 and 3). He asks me how many sex I have. Before I can answer he reiterates he has sex 3 times 1 night, he is 25 years old. I congratulate him - "Oh thats good". He asks again if I have sex. I say "with my husband." He asks again if I have children and I say no. He is again suprised by this. I look away hoping to end the conversation. He asks again "do you have sex - how many times?" For some reason I feel the need to defend my own prowis and say "3 - no 4 times" He is suprised and repeats questioning "4 times?" He then says "I has sex 3 times." I look away.

He taps my shoulder - "mam you understand this sex?" I say "yes", confused at the conversation. I look away again. He taps me again - "mam, how many times you have sex?"..."you have sex in India?" I say "no-no sex in India. Only sex with husband". He asks "how many times?" Somewhere something clicks in my brain and I ask him "sex with you?" His eyes light up and he smiles really big "YES!" as if finally getting through to me. HOLY CRAP this entire conversation has been asking me how many times I would like to have sex with him. 3 or 4!?! what was I thinking!!

I reply shocked wth an emphatic "NO! no no no sex. Only sex with my husband" (a lot of good this lie did me). He asks "how old husband? is he young?" I say "yes, 27." He indicates to himself "25 - sex 2 times 2 children" and makes a fist as if to indicate me hung like bull. I say no no sex and look away.

After a few minutes he says "mam - I help you with bag on train". I say yes. He asks sex? I say no. He repeats to me sex only with husband? I repeat "yes only with husband". He resales himself "strong only 25" and makes the fist gesture again. He says he will return to load bag and indicates I should wait right there for him. I am releaved he is indicating he is leaving - then somewhat offended...The only reason he stayed was to offer sex and since I turned him down he is leaving!

Typical man!

Fly America Act

So, the plane ride was one of the worst. Not THE worst, but not good either. It seriously took us 1.5 hours to load the plane and take off. The total chaos that erupted when boarding began is just one indication of what in the hell I got myself into. I am still amazed at the fact that if English and Hindi are the 2 official languages of the country, why is there such a HUGE language barrier...its english right?? Well, not really.

It was a 14 hour flight direct to New Delhi...and I got to spend that time sandwiched between a SCREAMING child and a very fat man who took up more than his fair share of the seat as well as (being a guy) spreading his legs wide and taking up the foot room. Yippi for me. Oh and don't forget the other screaming child 2 rows ahead of me...OH yes, the two in concert was an increadiable spine chilling experience. So, No, I did not sleep on the plane. How could I? If the guy was awake he was making rude racest comments, and when he was asleep he was farting. The child when awake chose only to communicate at levels that would make a dog quiver or would pound on the seat infront of it (i say it cuz I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl) with the remote for the TV. When the child was asleep kicking ensued. Trying to tuck myself into the seat and ignore all around me I focused on the "entertainment" which was very poor. Bart the Mall cop was a highlight...which just goes to tell you that the movie selections were not that great. The stewardesses weren't nice either. One was obviously drunk and the other was a complete WITCH (with a B). Kiddi corner to me was a very old man who also choose to communicate with the TV in the same fashion as the child...pounding on the seat infront of him trying to get the technology to work...It didn't and I felt sorry for the lady who's seat that was. The guy behind me, when I would leave my seat, chose to take it upon himself to adjust my seat levels putting the seat into the upright position...as if I wouldn't notice.

About 1/2 way through the flight the toiletpaper disappeared from the bathroom (hmmm...indication of what to expect when arriving in India??). Also about 3/4 of the way through the flight the floor was covered in pee and the sink in snott (men blowing noses at the sink instead of into a tissue). I really do not see how American Airlines can justify only 4 bathrooms for all of coach class. Of course, all of business class got 1 bathroom and I believe first class had 2....still, not as good as Quantas. There was no free liquer, no hot towels, no socks for your feet or face masks or any of the lovely accomidations provided by groups like Quantas airways. American airlines just flat out SUCKED. Stupid Fly America Act!

Monterey Bay Aquarium

I just can't resist - the sea horse exhibit at the aquarium was AWESOME!

I was really impressed with the sea dragons and the jelly fish! Beautiful. Everyone else seemed to be obsessed with the great white shark....not me.