Hardiwar - trip #1

It was an interesting trip into “town”. I find that the description online and in the lonely planet book about Mussoorie being this foreigner friendly bubble all too accurate. Everyone here (well mostly everyone) is used to seeing foreigners with the Woodstock School and language school, being a tourist town etc. – it makes it easy and people don’t stare as much. Nor do they video tape you or take your photo without asking. I am slightly torn over this photo taking thing. I take people’s photos all the time most of the time without asking; particularly if those people are “noise” in the photo (i.e. I take a photo of a landscape which happens to have people in it). So, why then is it such a big deal when people take my photo? I guess its the attitude or feeling I get when – particularly men – go out of their way to video tape/photograph the “white women”. It has a feeling of wrongness, but is this because I’ve been told it’s a bad thing, or would it feel this awkward if I hadn’t been told DON’T LET THE MEN PHOTOGRAPH you? I have definitely felt used after on one or 2 occasions… Typically here, the men/boys will at least ask for permission. In Hardiwar, Clair, a new travel companion, had the guts and knowledge to say in Hindi that it would cost 30Rs for a one photo with her. This got a bunch of laughs but no one paid and took the photos anyway. After this trip I think I am getting a little more used to the beggars, panhandlers and photographers….
I went to Hardiwar for 3 things: 1. To see the temple for a Snake Goddess, 2. To watch the ceremony on the Gats where they light candels and send flowers etc. down the river with their wishes and prayers, and 3. To go on my first jungle safari. Lets just say – it was all disappointing!

The temple was OMG the worst temple Ive been to yet. It was up atop a hill that we took a cable car up to and then at the top it was like going through a gauntlet of panhandlers and stalls of junk for sale. We get into the temple and are immediately accosted by “priests” who want to put a dot on your forehead and take money for their blessings. And just because you have one dot does not preclude the very next man in line to yell at you and insist that you take his dot and blessing, and then of course the very next guy after that. Then once you have gone through those men you are herded past a counter where you pay to have your offerings blessed. Yes, because even before you went up to the temple you buy things like coconuts and sugar candy to give as offerings. But before you give them as an offering you get them blessed – which costs you “donations”. Bypassing the blessing of offering lines You end up in another room where there are little windows and doors where other holy men are sitting and chanting – where again you give more donations for their blessings as well as provide your offerings. The culmulnation of this temple is to be herded as if you are going to get on an amusement park ride to pass a statue of Durga…or at least I think it was Durga. And that’s it. This is the temple. The gauntlet of trinket stalls haunts you as you head down the hill – or you can take the cable car back down and go past yet more trinket stalls. No snakes, no big statues, no solemnity of “templeness”. Loud, dirty, ostentatious, and ugh.

Watching the people en-mass send off their candle lit flower boats of prayers on the Holy Gangies River is beautiful- or so Ive been told. You see, upon arrival, due to the picky nature of some of my travel companions, certain hotels were not up to snuff, thus needing to search for alternative lodgings and of course losing track of time put us 10 minutes late to the ceremony. Seeing how the ceremony only takes 10 minutes we completely missed it. I will go again I am sure but this trip it was a bust.  Saw it in the morning, but not the prayer ceremony.

The Bazaar made up for the disappointing holy experiences.  It was way cool and I helped Clair buy a georgous Sari that I am sad I did not buy one for myself. 

Yet, I still have 9 months so I can find another to satisfy my tastes...

Our hotel, though not as bad as others, was still filled with cockroaches (ok not filled) but had some on the bed...it did have this inspirational thought:

Rajaji National Park

is not hailed as being one of the better parks to visit. I went there knowing this fact, however I was told it is pretty OK for seeing elephants. I wanted to see elephants – Asian Elephants in the wild, which would have made me feel content. Anything else would have been a bonus. I should have known that the trip would not go well when the first thing our driver specifically stopped to show us was a termite mound. We did see prior to this a heard of chital and 2 peacocks,

but these were animals I spotted before the driver. I was more of a tour guide to Sophi and Clair than our driver was…guess that safari training in Africa needs to be put to use somehow. It also didn’t bode well that a 6:30am tour in November is probably not the best time to start due to the early morning fog…that wouldn’t go away.

Our driver sort of knew English but didn’t catch on until later that I liked taking photos of birds… considering that seeing a mammal is a rare occurrence, particularly those like leopards, lions, bears, tigers, elephants, foxes – you know the cool things…so by default I look at birds.

Towards the end of the tour he was stopping for little birds as well as the big things. It wasn’t a complete bust but lets just say I will not be going back to this park unless I go for free or have some insider’s tour. The only elephants I saw were “orphaned” and housed near the tea shop at the entrance. Much like a zoo – and yet no real barriers to keep the elephants in.

Further bathroom thoughts

For those of you who are not familiar with an emergent rod, I would like to take a moment to describe the process of showering but first I will continue thoughts on overall bathroom experiences. I find it fascinating at just how alien sometimes some common placed things can be. For instance, at first I was leery of the Indian style toilet- particularly in the train, but once I used the Indian squat toilet, it all became very familiar on what to do (i.e. very much like camping), its just the fine points that I am still trying to get and refine the finesse that is necessary not to pee all over your feet and clothing as well as get the knack of no toilet paper…this I am still…hesitant. Much like camping: face downhill, spread feet wide, move clothing out of way and come to a complete squat-none of this hovering like you are going to sit. Simple enough though can be laborious if you have bad knees.
      
While in Hardwar I came across a further complication to the Indian sqat toilet…that is the squat toilet is basically a whole with places to put your feet. 99% of the time the whole is on the ground. In a hotel we looked at in Hardwar, the squat toilet was actually a modified western style toilet. So in essence you climb atop the toilet and perch. I have yet to try this out and I am sure it will not be a problem the only time I foresee any sort of problem would be if I were intoxicated – losing one’s balance squatting with pants around ankles atop a 2ft porcelain throne over cement floors would not make a pretty picture. One other fascinating part of this toilet is that it was “convertible”. As in, instead of putting down a “lid”, you could put down a cover that would convert the toilet from a perch to a seat – thus making it “western”. I will get a picture of this for you, but just for the moment let your imagination roam….

Now, in the guest house where I was residing before, I had a fairly “western” style bathroom. Sink, toilet (western), a geyser and a shower. The shower shot directly onto the toilet so you could technically shower while sitting, or go to the bathroom while showering (should you have good aim). Almost all bathrooms (and most houses for that matter) have a slight slant to them – which if you are highly sensitive to these things can throw you off for a second because nothing is quite straight. If you are lucky your geyser (aka hot water tank) will take 10 minutes to heat and you will have about 10 minutes of continuous HOT water. Also, if you are lucky, the plug to the geyser will NOT be directly in the path of the shower….I was not so lucky. I say this simply because of the constant terror of electrocution. When power fluxes and outages and surges are as common as sunshine, these are things we need to be aware of and therefore do not tilt the shower head up higher than shoulders. It seems thus far, that just because you have a shower head, does not mean that you can get water to come out of it, nor does it mean you have hot water. In this case, most bathrooms have two taps that are a little short of waist height of the average western woman. I specify the height here because I am tall for a human being in this part of India – most men are about my height or shorter. This means that most of the taps if you squat under them could be an OK height and have “running” water for a shower. But the complication arises when and IF you have hot water- it is HOT water that comes out of one tap (no controlling the temperature) and COLD that comes out of the other. So, really, squatting under these taps does not make for a comfortable shower having to hop back and forth thus by default you end up using the bucket bath style. In my current abode, my bathroom consists of a toilet and 2 taps – one of which does not work. Can you guess which one? So, I need to heat my water in some way thus enter the emergent rod.

This is an emergent rod

I was not familiar with this device until now. Its strange but makes sense – I find it similar to chemistry equipment. Stick a metal rod into the water and it will heat up….how does it heat? Good question. Well, you find a plug and plug the metal rod into electricity and then the rod will get hot and the water by default. I do not want to belabor the point or make you feel as if you are a child – but my point here is Do Not Stick Your Hand Into The Water When The METAL ROD IS PLUGED IN. I have yet to do this, but this was the warning I was given by a friend of mine. It is strange because logically you understand this and yet, the thought - “how hot is the water now??” your first moves is “oh, just stick a finger in really quick and see”. You forget that there is a metal rod attached to electrical current. I have already electrocuted myself 2 times here just plugging in a space heater – exposed wires, surges, etc you get the picture. So, I am glad I have caught myself the 3 times I have had the urge to check the temperature. After telling the short story to my landlord of how my friend Bec electrocuted herself by “testing” the water – my landlord looked at me very funny and said in an obvious tone “you just look at the steam rising off the water”. Aaaah such wise wisdom given to someone who had NO clue how to check the water because logic somehow leaves your brain when everything is so unfamiliar-yet not. It’s over thinking; making things way more complicated than they have to be because everything else is so alien - why not the way water boils? So in the spirit of the many instructions I have seen around India (see my picasa album for more Indian signs), I took the opportunity to pictorially illustrate what would happen should you do what Bec did. ..                                                                  
 

How can you tell if the water's hot??

Look for the steam!

DO NOT Stick your hand into the water while it is still plugged in.

Injury may occur

I also have 2 further suggestions for those of you who find yourself in a bathroom needing to do a bucket bath 1. Remove any toilet paper in the room – particularly if you have long hair and 2. I enjoy having the bathroom warm while I bathe so using a space heater I plug it in prior to the shower and “warm” up the room. At this point – you must be aware that outlets in India are sparse and typically you need a power strip OR share the outlet between the 2 items. Also, for Indians being so short, I do not understand the fascination with putting switches and outlets above even my head…why? And then to add to the conundrum (much like the length of a hot dog and a hot dog bun) why do they then make the cords to appliances so short? So, first heat the water (20-30min) then prop the space heater up on a stool to make it long enough to plug in to heat the room and then since it is up off the ground, why not bathe while it is still plugged in?
Heat the room after you have heated the water:

My trip to Pakistan...

It was pointed out to me last night that I didn't retell the experience of going to the Pakistan boarder.  It was pretty darn interesting.  While in Amritsar (where the golden temple is) one of the "things" to do is to attend the flag ceremony on the border with Pakistan.  It is called Wagah Border and it is about 1 hour drive from the golden temple.  You apparently need to get there early because the crowd on the Indian side is CRAZY.  To be honest, me explaining the trip is just not as good as you watching some video of it which many people have posted on YouTube...heres a linkWagah Border Ceremony Its a video that explains a little about the entire thing.  Notice the monty python-esk unusual walks.  There is a huge yelling match between those on India's side and those on the Pakistan side.  Before I get into it let me explain how we got there...(not that its a big deal but this is my blog so phttttt....)
Bloema (the dutch bossy chick) decided that the man I had contacted to take a shared taxi out to the border was not "good enough".  She felt completely threatened that I wanted to branch out on my own and make a decision without consulting her (at least thats the way it came across).  Regardless, I decided to let it drop and go with who she choose.  She ended up finding this guy who made it his mission to cram as many of us as he could into a SUV.  Now, I thought college students were bad and turning trips to the store into a clown car, this was uncomfortable for ME.  4 adult women (including me) into the back seat of a standard SUV plus 6 people in the back (where most of you store your dog or groceries) PLUS 3 people in the front seat.  At one point in the HOUR long drive I was literally squatting because I couldn't actually fit my butt onto the seat.  I did this because one of the women decided first that she got to sit next to the window and 2nd that it was my responsiblity to make room for her by sitting with just the edge of my butt on the seat.  This would have worked say if I were 4ft tall and didn't get most of my height from my legs.  She on the otherhand sat quite pretty thats for sure.  All her and her 4ft bossy self.  The other women in the car did not approve of this lady.  She was definately "middle upperclass" and the other women were upper class.  So the devilish looks between them were interesting.

Once we arrived at the boarder, it was maddness (when is it not in India) but we found a good parking spot and the second I fell out of the vehicle I was bombarded with men offering to watch my bag and camera...You see, according to these guys you weren't allowed to bring anything with you across the border and they of course for a small fee would be willing to guard my camera!  WoW what service!!!  I was completely lost in the confusion and turned to the driver to ask what this was about but he was long gone.  Bloeme told me he was lying and yelled at one guy told him to leave us alone.  I didn't know who to trust.  Bloeme and Bec then decided that they were hungry and wanted to eat street corn.  The bossy lady from the Taxi came up to me and pulled me down the road saying YOU MUST HURRY.  I yelling back at bec and Bloeme for help they decided to forgo the corn (which was smart later because we were late already) came running after me.  The croud was nutz and kept getting worse because the rich people were hiring rickshaws and the poor were getting more congested as we approached the 1 man gate.  Once I got to the gate though I was again approached by a kid, this time being told it wasn't my camera that was not allowed, rather it was my bag.  NO bags are allowed to go through the border check point.  For some reason I trusted the kid a little more (cuz he didn't go after my camera).  Remember the crowds and the pushing and the no personal space and excitement at being near Pakistan....The kid directed me to a pile of purses.  The pile of purses were literally just a pile on the side of the street where all women were directed (yelled at really) do leave their bag with no money, no phones, no passports no nothing.  Empty the purse and you can leave it here with us.  I was dragged by the kid while the guard yelled at me, Bloeme was yelling at the guard, me and the kid (she's talented) and the crowd of wome serging as I tried to take out everything and shove it into my pockets.  I gingerly handed over my bag to this growing pile and had a scrap of paper given to me in its place.  There was no indication of order to any of the bags or that I would get my bag back....

Once I went through the gate, women were directed towards a closed off area of the road where women guards felt us up…they were efficient, but didn’t miss any location. The men were checked on the street. It was about ¼ walk to the gate. I followed the crowd which was a mistake. We didn’t find out until later that they had a side entrance for Foreigners and families. I was funneled into a crowd that was worse than the Primus mosh pit concert that Matt Janine and I went to one year. I went up on my toes to look over the crowd (cuz most were shorter than me) and couldn’t get back down. The people were pushing and shoving and I feel sorry for the people who were up against the bar. Talk about bruises. I eventually got separated from Bec and then took about 10 minutes before I got angry enough to yell “you have to be shitting me!” which incited giggle out of the men and then I shoved my way out of the crowd. When I finally got out, I was drenched and it was not just my own sweat. I found Bec and Bloeme came running up and told us to follow her. She had been told about the secret side entrance. This entrance provided access to the bleachers, VIP, foreigner, and family seating. The problem is I had to go through one more check point…I say problem because I had brought my GPS unit with me and passed it off as a cell phone at the first check point, but this one the girl was a little more skeptical. I was able to pass it off only because another gal started making trouble which distracted my guard….Or at least that is what I think happened. Maybe she didn’t care, but I thought it would be hard to explain why I had a GPS unit in my pocket on the Pakistan Boarder.

Anyway, once we got into this beautiful seating area we got a sure view of the show. It was hilarious. The Pakistan side was segregated (women on the right and men on the left as I faced them) and the chanting between the countries and the yelling matches and then all the posturing. It was entertaining to say the least. The way out I did get my bag back, but not without another serge of panic of where the heck did the bags go.  I went back to the spot where the pile of purses were taller than me and found nothing.  I immediately thought WOW we've all been dooped....but no, they just moved all the bags to a back corner and my little ticket actually matched my bag.  It only cost me 20Rs and a few more grey hairs.

Weddings and Movies

So, Sunday I went into Dehra dun for my first theater going experience…it was an hour drive down the mountain in a hired taxi that Clair and Sophi hired for 1100 Rs.  wow what a lovely day!  First of all, we got to the theater “late” which meant we didn’t get the VIP seats which are 100Rs or the SIP seats at 70 Rs….it cost the  3 of us 90 Rs ( 29Rs each) to see the move…that is about $2 total.  Then, the theater is basically a very long rectangle (what other shape would it be really) but none the less it was LONG.  The VIP got the first 50 rows towards the back of the theater the SIP got the next 45 or so and then there was our seating…the up close to the screen seats.  The one good thing about the seats is that they had high backs to them so I could slouch down to try to get a better angle.  Since we were late we only caught the tail end of the scramble crowding pushing, shoving, and banging on the doors to be admitted.  It was PACKED and every seat was sold out.

Amritsar

We arrived in Amritsar and head for the Golden Temple which is the Mecca for Seiks (the Guru who created this religion was born there)  The Golden Temple is a place that feeds over 40,000 people a day for free.  It is mostly dhal and chapatti but everyone is welcome and everyone is equal.  Unlike Hindus, Seiks do not believe in the cast system, they believe all human beings are equal (men and women alike), they are a warrior group that have 5 symbols to indicate their faith.  1. The turban head wrap for both sexes, 2. special undergarments that allow them to jump on horseback and ride into battle if necessary (a good pair of jocky shorts will do this too, but apparently this isn’t good enough), 3. they believe that hair is a gift and thus should never be cut thus they grow long beards (men and women alike) and to this end they have a comb in their hair at all times,  4. They wear an iron bracelet to protect their wrist from swords and 5. They wear some type of sword at all times. 

This particular weekend was preparation and celebration for Monday’s birthday party for the first Guru.  So, there was a parade and they took the holy book around which brought out the beggars and people wanting to be blessed.  The parade’s lasted about 6 hours and then it was into the temple for all sorts of other prayers and lighting of the temple.  The main temple that houses the book during the day (because they put the book to bed each night from 11-4am is gold plated (hence the name) and they wash this part of the temple down with holy cows milk.  In the temple there are 4 men who are constantly singing and playing the drums or other musical instruments.  I am not sure if or when they rotate? But this occurs from 4am to 11pm all day every day and they are filmed so you can tune in your TV if you would like to watch and listen from afar.  The temple has a constant stream of people going through it at every minute of the day.  Everyone who “works” there is a volunteer.  Pilgrims come and help make chapatti, cut onion, peal garlic, wash dishes, hand out plates, serve food all in duty to their faith and helping each other.   They are very proud of their system, especially the 3 chapatti machines which when all three are running, make 6,000 chapatti an hour.  In taking a tour of the kitchen (which I did not have my camera and am super sad) they had literally VATS of food boiling over flames as thick as my calves.  It reminded me of movies like Oliver Twist or dingy slaves churning boiling vats that I could literally stand in and be covered chest high.

 

The temple which housed the book is surrounded by water – which is considered holy to bathe in.  There are 2 set aside chambers for the women to bathe in and the men then get the rest of the 1km loop to take a dip should they desire.  It is inappropriate to see women wet and since everyone strips to their undies or nude, it is nice that they have the set aside room. 

This weekend was spent traveling to Amritsar.  It was an interesting place, but I have to say I did not enjoy  the train rides.  The trains were hectic, chaos, that were squishy and uncomfortable to say the least.  We took an evening train meaning we got sleepers – which just ends up being these benches that the top and bottom bunks are permanently out and the middle folds out.  Which means the middle and bottom bunks are screwed because they are dependent upon each other and if one person doesn’t want to go to sleep it can be awkward. 

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.

SCUBA diving Monterey

So, Monterey was wonderful. We went scuba diving on our 1st day there. Visibility was really bad (insert a synonym that I can actually spell)... This was our first beach dive. I felt nervous because of my ear problems. It takes me just a little longer than everyone else to adjust my ears to the pressure change. Then when I finally was down at the bottom it was scary because I knew I was only 2ft away from byron but I could barely see him. Crazy stuff. It was also a little more intense because before we headed down, the seals that were swimming by us were also under the water near us. Curious, but left us alone. which is cool by me just because we are so clumsy underwater and they are NOT. They also have big teeth. Overall we did 2 dives that day and saw all sorts of cool cold water stuff like starfish eating jelly fish, crabs eating jelly fish, sheep crabs, decorated crabs, sun-starfish, nudibrinks, shrimp, otters, tube anennnononomnies, urchins, sea cucumbers the size of a loaf of bread and lots of kelp trees. The first dive nothing major scary happened, but the second dive I had a harder time with the ears and then towards the end of the dive, I got caught and separated from Byron and the instructor because a Kelp strand wrapped itself around my tank and I couldn't get untangled. Its a lot like the Chinese finger traps - the more you struggle, the worse it gets. So, I had to calm down, detangle myself, and then proceed down a path I think the guys took to catch up to them. There were so many jelly fish in the water that all of our faces were stinging by the time we were done. Also, I now know exactly how a turtle feels when it get's flipped onto its back. The water was so rough that trying to get out of the water standing posed a challenge for me....

Just the beginning

Well folks, I wanted to get the ball rolling and start this crazy new chapter in my life. Thought I would give this blogger thing a test drive before I leave the safety of the USA. Also thought I would put out some disclaimers and set the standards or expectations to low - that way when you do take the time to read my jabber, it might impress you...probably not.

1. I can't spell. Don't know where it happened along the way of the learning choo-choo train but it did. Its a problem and I think I might need to re-learn spelling. Anyway, I hope spell check will make sure I do not make too many mistakes.
2. I tend to write in stream of consciousness style. Or at least that is what I call what I do. Rambling sentences that when said aloud are way more funny than when you are not in my head listening to my monologue and just reading it on paper.
3. I tend to use "..." a bunch. I do not really know why. I just want to indicate to you that I am thinking (cuz I do that on occasion) and or that there is an awkward pause. I seem to be the only person I know who does this routinely.....do not know why...hmmm. Am I using it incorrectly? or does it harken back to statement #2?
4. In my writings I tend to use however, so, and anyway often. Again, another mystery to myself.
5. I do not know how often I will be able to update this thing due to internet connections and my schedule. I can barely keep a journal (really never actually) so this will be a challenge.

So that is it for now. Low expectations I hope (but not so low that you will not read updates). I apologize if what I write is confusing or boring. It makes a difference knowing that other people are going to read what you write rather than just yourself. I shall see if I get the hang of that. Suggestions will always be appreciated.

I am off to Monterey CA and hopefully will start this blog off for reals with some pictures of whales and otters next week!