Well Gillian and I made it to China! This is our last country to travel before coming home, but we still have over a month to go. We had a very adventurous Easter, we took a 18 hour bus journey on 3 different buses from Hanoi, Vietnam to Guilin, China. Leaving Vietnam was a chaotic mess of people shoving to get their exit stamps. While waiting in the mess a people we made friends with 3 Canadians and discovered that we paid 3 times as much for our Chinese visas simply because we are American! There was a very clear distinction between the disorder of the Vietnam boarder and the sudden organization of the Chinese boarder. We were placed in a golf cart mini van and driven all of 500 meters which we were not allowed to walk to Chinese immigration. Surprisingly neither of us had any problems and we made it through just fine. We were able to fine our bus okay thanks to the signs they made us put around our necks like kindergartners that in Chinese said what bus we were on. Guilin is one of the China's oldest tourist cities due to the amazing natural beauty of the region. We have seen more hills and caves in the past week then I have seen in my entire 26 years and the everyone of the hills has a funny name and a temple at the top. To me the city is very western and modern. We got to stay with Gillian's good friend, Elsie, who way the best tour guide yet! We took 2 days and went to the Longji Rice Terraces which are only about 2 hours form Guilin. The rice terraces are even better then the pictures and a wonder just to see how they were made and still being farmed. It was a great break for us. We stayed the night in the village of Ping'an which is in the middle of the terraces. We hiked the second day to a little village about 3 hours away up and down stairs, over hill after hill. Along the way we meet a women from the local village who was bugging us to have lunch at her house. We thought if we told her we do not eat meet, she would give up.....but no. She used it to her advantage and began picking wild greens and baby bamboo for our lunch. After 2 hours of hiking with her we gave in and had an amazing lunch at her home. She brought us into her home which was a larger wooden structure which was basically one huge room. We hung out with her mother who was 76 years old and still working way chopping wild greens for the animals. We were watching our hostest build a open fire in one corner of the house and cooking our lunch when we heard pigs. We were trying to figure out were the pigs were since we could hear them but not see them anywhere. The 76 year old grandmother mixed up a pot of mush which we feared was our lunch, but then she picked up two of the wooden floor boards and lowered the mush down to the pigs. She then swept all of the scraps on the floor into the whole of the pigs to eat. That is what I call efficiency. We had an amazing time the rice terraces. The experience was peaceful and beautiful . We both would have loved to spend a week there.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
hue're did ya go?
the last time we spoke, i was still writing about hoi an...and as promised, i will continue to for the sake of rita, my mother, and ellen's family.
we were eating food...normal stuff, strolling the streets of the ancient city, when we were pounced upon by the tailors of hoi an. shop after shop was exploding with rolls of colorful wool and silk, plastic buttons, and dusty magazines from the late 90's. we had been forewarned of the seductive power of these tailors, but as recent fashion victims, we both embraced the opportunity to try on clothing that hadn't been worn five days in a row or emblazoned with bad english phrases or glitter. flipping through a korean fall/winter catalogue from 2008, i found my jacket match; a short wool jacket with slight princess sleeves that reeked of long nights of bike riding and drinking beer in new york city (with a helmet). dog-earring the page, i promised the sales associate that i'd return tomorrow after making my final decision.
sadly, we had to flee the scene by 8ish in order to secure seating by the river for the "lights out hour". i don't know it's international title, but we were informed that at 8 o'clock, everyone would shut off their power for an hour in conjunction with the rest of the world. elbowing our way onto a lantern-lit bridge, we could see locals setting lotus-shaped paper lanterns containing candles out onto the water. those on the shore who couldn't quite figure out how to get their lanterns onto the water simply dropped them in, hoping they would float. they didn't, but it was quite sweet as fits of laughter were periodically heard following a loud splash.
as per usual, we rented bikes the next day and headed to the beach. we argued with a parking lot attendant (yes, you "must" use designated lots) and then tromped off to argue with the beach chair renters. my day was spent collecting shells, adjusting a major wedgie, drinking iced coffee, swimming laps in the nearby pool (the beach chair rental included pool access!) and yelling at ellen while i tried to draw people sunning. on our return ride, we sped past some of the tailors we had visited the previous evening and vowed that after showering, we would take the plunge and commit to having some clothes made.
i awarded the first tailor shop with the honour of making my crazy cool jacket. the outside is a royal blue wool and ellen helped me choose a gold silk pattern that my grandmother would have appreciated as the lining. spreading the wealth, we asked another tailor to make us both sundresses from jersey material. tired from living the high life, we headed back to the same vegetarian restaurant to indulge yet again in noodle/tofu eden.
on day three we caved and signed up for yet another tour, this time to the ruins of my son. we specifically asked the travel agent to simply get us bus tickets; no tour talk, no bad lunches, etc. we ended up on a tour bus anyway, but the guide was quite animated and kept me mildly entertained. the ruins were good, but it was hard to not compare them to angkor wat, or even the other champa ruins that we had seen in nha trang. they fell a bit shorter on the magical scale, but there honestly wasn't much left to see. according to mr. animated, the americans had bombed this area, believing that it was a viet cong stronghold.
since it was a half-day tour, we were back in the city by lunch time. at a small restaurant, we befriended a fellow american from seattle who oddly resembled an older version of my brother. we made plans to meet for dinner and parted ways; ellen and i set out to discover the old city and he went to do some man things. according to the tour books, for 75,000 dong you could purchase a ticket to enter all of the chinese merchant houses/temples...or, you could show up an hour before closing and play dumb while wandering through the courtyards and shooting pictures before being approached by the ticket collectors.
we returned to the tailors for our second fittings and met our american pal in order to introduce him to the glory that was "quay chay". after stuffing our faces, we headed to the riverside to drink some "fresh beer", which i assume means locally brewed. we were a bit tipsy as we walked back to our cockroach/ant infested room which made falling asleep with the insects crawling around a bit easier.
day four...the reappearance of the motorbike! ellen and i rented a mean machine and headed out to marble mountain and china beach. it was raining heavily as we approached the main mountain's base and took refuge in a marble shop. we were coerced into buying coffee (which im always up for) and ponchos in exchange for the shopkeeper watching our helmets. climbing a mountain composed of marble in cheap flip flops was not ideal, but that's all i had to work with. whilst trying to relieve myself during our ascent, i was surprised by the presence of a tangerine colored japanese tourist who happened upon us. ellen was supposed to be on look-out duty, but apparently it was my fault, as i neglected to realize that her shouting, "oh what a lovely day!" meant that someone was approaching. recovered, we continued through several temple areas and caves before hand-and-foot climbing up a sketchy staircase that led to a look out point. it was quite a view and we tried to plot our path to the beach.
riding off, we were still a bit apprehensive about how to reach the shoreline, as the areas along the water had been fenced off into small parcels that might have denoted private land, landmines, who knows. choosing a small path that led to a guest house, we parked the bike with a local woman who made us swear to buy beverages from her at a later point in the day. i had my fingers crossed.
it was still cold and rainy and the tide was pretty high. we waded in the water for a few minutes, before jumping back on the bike to dine at a local roadside restaurant. in china, eating at smaller restaurants with locals is always cheaper than the western wannabee establishments, and in vietnam, this rule holds true as well...most of the time. after scarfing down a modest meal of rice, tofu, and some sad greens, the woman slapped us with a 60,000 dong bill. ellen argued her down to 40, but neither party was pleased as we sped off back towards the hotel.
our plans for later in the day included visiting a small potter's village. we had a general circle of where it was on the map, but figured the locals would just point us in the direction of a potter as it was a hot spot on the tourist circuit. by chance, we ended up in the driveway of a family who were potters! they adopted us for several hours and let us prance through their yard and home. ellen made some pots while i conversed with their youngest son who spoke pretty good english. the father took a liking to me because well, i make pretty animated faces, and showed me his wedding photos, along with those of his ten children. we were even awarded free souvenirs as we said our goodbyes. one of the potters even fed us some corn.
back in town, we picked up ellen's dress and split a chocolate pastry to die for. i believe ellen has mentioned this pastry in a previous post. we had a few hours to catch some shut-eye before our bus to hue. part three in the works...
we were eating food...normal stuff, strolling the streets of the ancient city, when we were pounced upon by the tailors of hoi an. shop after shop was exploding with rolls of colorful wool and silk, plastic buttons, and dusty magazines from the late 90's. we had been forewarned of the seductive power of these tailors, but as recent fashion victims, we both embraced the opportunity to try on clothing that hadn't been worn five days in a row or emblazoned with bad english phrases or glitter. flipping through a korean fall/winter catalogue from 2008, i found my jacket match; a short wool jacket with slight princess sleeves that reeked of long nights of bike riding and drinking beer in new york city (with a helmet). dog-earring the page, i promised the sales associate that i'd return tomorrow after making my final decision.
sadly, we had to flee the scene by 8ish in order to secure seating by the river for the "lights out hour". i don't know it's international title, but we were informed that at 8 o'clock, everyone would shut off their power for an hour in conjunction with the rest of the world. elbowing our way onto a lantern-lit bridge, we could see locals setting lotus-shaped paper lanterns containing candles out onto the water. those on the shore who couldn't quite figure out how to get their lanterns onto the water simply dropped them in, hoping they would float. they didn't, but it was quite sweet as fits of laughter were periodically heard following a loud splash.
as per usual, we rented bikes the next day and headed to the beach. we argued with a parking lot attendant (yes, you "must" use designated lots) and then tromped off to argue with the beach chair renters. my day was spent collecting shells, adjusting a major wedgie, drinking iced coffee, swimming laps in the nearby pool (the beach chair rental included pool access!) and yelling at ellen while i tried to draw people sunning. on our return ride, we sped past some of the tailors we had visited the previous evening and vowed that after showering, we would take the plunge and commit to having some clothes made.
i awarded the first tailor shop with the honour of making my crazy cool jacket. the outside is a royal blue wool and ellen helped me choose a gold silk pattern that my grandmother would have appreciated as the lining. spreading the wealth, we asked another tailor to make us both sundresses from jersey material. tired from living the high life, we headed back to the same vegetarian restaurant to indulge yet again in noodle/tofu eden.
on day three we caved and signed up for yet another tour, this time to the ruins of my son. we specifically asked the travel agent to simply get us bus tickets; no tour talk, no bad lunches, etc. we ended up on a tour bus anyway, but the guide was quite animated and kept me mildly entertained. the ruins were good, but it was hard to not compare them to angkor wat, or even the other champa ruins that we had seen in nha trang. they fell a bit shorter on the magical scale, but there honestly wasn't much left to see. according to mr. animated, the americans had bombed this area, believing that it was a viet cong stronghold.
since it was a half-day tour, we were back in the city by lunch time. at a small restaurant, we befriended a fellow american from seattle who oddly resembled an older version of my brother. we made plans to meet for dinner and parted ways; ellen and i set out to discover the old city and he went to do some man things. according to the tour books, for 75,000 dong you could purchase a ticket to enter all of the chinese merchant houses/temples...or, you could show up an hour before closing and play dumb while wandering through the courtyards and shooting pictures before being approached by the ticket collectors.
we returned to the tailors for our second fittings and met our american pal in order to introduce him to the glory that was "quay chay". after stuffing our faces, we headed to the riverside to drink some "fresh beer", which i assume means locally brewed. we were a bit tipsy as we walked back to our cockroach/ant infested room which made falling asleep with the insects crawling around a bit easier.
day four...the reappearance of the motorbike! ellen and i rented a mean machine and headed out to marble mountain and china beach. it was raining heavily as we approached the main mountain's base and took refuge in a marble shop. we were coerced into buying coffee (which im always up for) and ponchos in exchange for the shopkeeper watching our helmets. climbing a mountain composed of marble in cheap flip flops was not ideal, but that's all i had to work with. whilst trying to relieve myself during our ascent, i was surprised by the presence of a tangerine colored japanese tourist who happened upon us. ellen was supposed to be on look-out duty, but apparently it was my fault, as i neglected to realize that her shouting, "oh what a lovely day!" meant that someone was approaching. recovered, we continued through several temple areas and caves before hand-and-foot climbing up a sketchy staircase that led to a look out point. it was quite a view and we tried to plot our path to the beach.
riding off, we were still a bit apprehensive about how to reach the shoreline, as the areas along the water had been fenced off into small parcels that might have denoted private land, landmines, who knows. choosing a small path that led to a guest house, we parked the bike with a local woman who made us swear to buy beverages from her at a later point in the day. i had my fingers crossed.
it was still cold and rainy and the tide was pretty high. we waded in the water for a few minutes, before jumping back on the bike to dine at a local roadside restaurant. in china, eating at smaller restaurants with locals is always cheaper than the western wannabee establishments, and in vietnam, this rule holds true as well...most of the time. after scarfing down a modest meal of rice, tofu, and some sad greens, the woman slapped us with a 60,000 dong bill. ellen argued her down to 40, but neither party was pleased as we sped off back towards the hotel.
our plans for later in the day included visiting a small potter's village. we had a general circle of where it was on the map, but figured the locals would just point us in the direction of a potter as it was a hot spot on the tourist circuit. by chance, we ended up in the driveway of a family who were potters! they adopted us for several hours and let us prance through their yard and home. ellen made some pots while i conversed with their youngest son who spoke pretty good english. the father took a liking to me because well, i make pretty animated faces, and showed me his wedding photos, along with those of his ten children. we were even awarded free souvenirs as we said our goodbyes. one of the potters even fed us some corn.
back in town, we picked up ellen's dress and split a chocolate pastry to die for. i believe ellen has mentioned this pastry in a previous post. we had a few hours to catch some shut-eye before our bus to hue. part three in the works...
Monday, April 6, 2009
ahoi an!!!!
sipping festival beers, man-handling moist maps of the dmz, eagerly awaiting a vegetarian feast, and comparing blurry memories of hoi an...this is how we chose to spend our remaining hours in hue.
our previous home, hoi an (which can also spell "hanoi" with a shake of a scrabble bag); was reached via a local bus from da nang. the khaki clad ticket matron who ushered us to the bus seemed toothy enough, and offered us back seats which gave us ample room to store our packs. while cruising down the street, nodding at the locals, feeling the slight breeze caress my sunburned cheek, life seemed pretty sweet...until the entrance of an additional khaki clad ticket matron, emanating venom from his eyes. elbow nudges followed. it was time to start watching the bills that were being exchanged so we could approximate what the fare would be. he brought it harder than we ever expected.
levitating through the chaos of the upper bus region, he landed directly in front of us, gibber-jabbered, and drew a "30" in the air with his finger. this meant that we were each to pay him 30,000 dong (about $2...A RIDE ON THE Q TRAIN!). a boy hunched over by the back door muttered that 10,000 was an appropriate price. khaki venom gave him the eyes and our comrade quickly fiddled with his fake ray bans. we did jazz hands to show him we'd pay 10 each. shaking his head no, he simultaneously re-drew the "30" in the air. awkwardness suffused through the vehicle as the other riders tried to calculate our next move. waving him towards the front of the bus, we told venom we'd pay him once he returned. stalling him would give us additional time to build up our defense.
3 minutes later, he was back, wiggling his finger about, looking more perturbed than previously.
he did his little "30" move.
"no!" i shot back. "why do we have to pay three times the actual price?"
this time he pointed at our day packs and our big guns stuffed underneath the seats.
"you want us to pay extra for the bags?!?!?!"
he shook his head "yes" with a satisfied grin. i was not having it. i started to point at the bags on the laps of all the women, children, dogs, chickens, etc. sitting around us. i mean, some guy had his bicycle on the bus!
i retorted with a firm "no" as he tried to wrangle my pack out from under my seat. i think he was trying to psyche me out into thinking he'd actually toss it off the bus, but it was too heavy for even him to move. in the midst of the pandemonium, two young boys from an english speaking country that i couldn't quite identify jumped on the rear of the bus, two packs and a guitar in tow. sensing allies, we quickly informed them of our situation as venom approached. completely apathetic to our plight, as their bar mitzvah money was probably paying for their little excursion, they gleefully forked over 60,000 dong.
with lust in his eyes, venom approached again. i pointed at the bamboo staffs and sticks others had placed on the floor. "how much do you charge for sticks?" i screeched. the boys looked embarrassed for me. i started to feel embarrassed for me, and in the end we each handed him 20,000. he had fed his rip-off the foreigner hunger and lingered towards the front of the bus, hyucking it up with his friends for the remainder of the journey.
wriggling our way off the bus in hoi an, we decided to employ the "wait at a coffee stall on the side of the road until all the annoying motorbike drivers leave" method before finding lodging. ellen reviewed the local map, while i pointed and laughed at venom who was enjoying a sugar cane juice with some local ladies. i think i killed his game, or at least damaged it for awhile. determined to make up for the extra dong we had spent, we started our trek towards the backpacker area, only to give up three minutes into it because my shoulder still hurt from my daredevil incident, and hopped on the back of some hondas.
shockingly, most of the hotels, even those not listed in the "bible" were full. it was hot and we wanted to swim. another honda driver pointed us down alley towards a hotel that had feasible rooms and a baby that i liked. after a brief siesta, we interviewed the hotel staff about vegetarian restaurants that were not geared towards tourists. meandering and looping through several alleyways, we reached "quay chay," a little red plastic chair vegetarian haven located in a family's front yard. we managed to order a pho with tofu, which i doused with too much chili, but forced myself to eat it anyway. they were happy, we were happy, and another baby was semi-happy as its grandfather paraded it through the yard.
day two to follow...
our previous home, hoi an (which can also spell "hanoi" with a shake of a scrabble bag); was reached via a local bus from da nang. the khaki clad ticket matron who ushered us to the bus seemed toothy enough, and offered us back seats which gave us ample room to store our packs. while cruising down the street, nodding at the locals, feeling the slight breeze caress my sunburned cheek, life seemed pretty sweet...until the entrance of an additional khaki clad ticket matron, emanating venom from his eyes. elbow nudges followed. it was time to start watching the bills that were being exchanged so we could approximate what the fare would be. he brought it harder than we ever expected.
levitating through the chaos of the upper bus region, he landed directly in front of us, gibber-jabbered, and drew a "30" in the air with his finger. this meant that we were each to pay him 30,000 dong (about $2...A RIDE ON THE Q TRAIN!). a boy hunched over by the back door muttered that 10,000 was an appropriate price. khaki venom gave him the eyes and our comrade quickly fiddled with his fake ray bans. we did jazz hands to show him we'd pay 10 each. shaking his head no, he simultaneously re-drew the "30" in the air. awkwardness suffused through the vehicle as the other riders tried to calculate our next move. waving him towards the front of the bus, we told venom we'd pay him once he returned. stalling him would give us additional time to build up our defense.
3 minutes later, he was back, wiggling his finger about, looking more perturbed than previously.
he did his little "30" move.
"no!" i shot back. "why do we have to pay three times the actual price?"
this time he pointed at our day packs and our big guns stuffed underneath the seats.
"you want us to pay extra for the bags?!?!?!"
he shook his head "yes" with a satisfied grin. i was not having it. i started to point at the bags on the laps of all the women, children, dogs, chickens, etc. sitting around us. i mean, some guy had his bicycle on the bus!
i retorted with a firm "no" as he tried to wrangle my pack out from under my seat. i think he was trying to psyche me out into thinking he'd actually toss it off the bus, but it was too heavy for even him to move. in the midst of the pandemonium, two young boys from an english speaking country that i couldn't quite identify jumped on the rear of the bus, two packs and a guitar in tow. sensing allies, we quickly informed them of our situation as venom approached. completely apathetic to our plight, as their bar mitzvah money was probably paying for their little excursion, they gleefully forked over 60,000 dong.
with lust in his eyes, venom approached again. i pointed at the bamboo staffs and sticks others had placed on the floor. "how much do you charge for sticks?" i screeched. the boys looked embarrassed for me. i started to feel embarrassed for me, and in the end we each handed him 20,000. he had fed his rip-off the foreigner hunger and lingered towards the front of the bus, hyucking it up with his friends for the remainder of the journey.
wriggling our way off the bus in hoi an, we decided to employ the "wait at a coffee stall on the side of the road until all the annoying motorbike drivers leave" method before finding lodging. ellen reviewed the local map, while i pointed and laughed at venom who was enjoying a sugar cane juice with some local ladies. i think i killed his game, or at least damaged it for awhile. determined to make up for the extra dong we had spent, we started our trek towards the backpacker area, only to give up three minutes into it because my shoulder still hurt from my daredevil incident, and hopped on the back of some hondas.
shockingly, most of the hotels, even those not listed in the "bible" were full. it was hot and we wanted to swim. another honda driver pointed us down alley towards a hotel that had feasible rooms and a baby that i liked. after a brief siesta, we interviewed the hotel staff about vegetarian restaurants that were not geared towards tourists. meandering and looping through several alleyways, we reached "quay chay," a little red plastic chair vegetarian haven located in a family's front yard. we managed to order a pho with tofu, which i doused with too much chili, but forced myself to eat it anyway. they were happy, we were happy, and another baby was semi-happy as its grandfather paraded it through the yard.
day two to follow...
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Ellen gets her Fix
We are well into our third month of travel and even though I love rice and the beach sometimes I just need to have a piece of home. Well, I was able to get a few of my needs satisfied in the past few days.
fix #1: Chocolate and 80's music
In Hoi An we had the best chocolate cake I have had since I can remember with espresso and wonderful 80's pop music playing to make the ambiance just right.
fix #2: Pottery
In Hoi An a few kilometers outside of town we found a family of woodfire potters. Just like me! We spent the afternoon with them helping out as I tried to get them to make me their 11 child. It made me happy to have my hands in clay and throw a few bowls, even if I am rusty.
fix #3: Fixed Gear Bikes
In Hue a cyclo drive was chasing after Gillian and I so he could give us a ride and make some money, we finally turned the chase around on him and made him let us ride the bike while he sat in the seat. The best part was that it was a fixed gear bike! Luckily we did not die.
Sometimes you just need a fix.
fix #1: Chocolate and 80's music
In Hoi An we had the best chocolate cake I have had since I can remember with espresso and wonderful 80's pop music playing to make the ambiance just right.
fix #2: Pottery
In Hoi An a few kilometers outside of town we found a family of woodfire potters. Just like me! We spent the afternoon with them helping out as I tried to get them to make me their 11 child. It made me happy to have my hands in clay and throw a few bowls, even if I am rusty.
fix #3: Fixed Gear Bikes
In Hue a cyclo drive was chasing after Gillian and I so he could give us a ride and make some money, we finally turned the chase around on him and made him let us ride the bike while he sat in the seat. The best part was that it was a fixed gear bike! Luckily we did not die.
Sometimes you just need a fix.
Friday, March 27, 2009
how to vaporize yourself and crash a motorbike in 30 seconds without even trying...
my boob and armpit are a lovely shade of plum, dashed with a glob of green envy. the title says it all. i crashed our motorbike, and i didn't even want to. this act was in no way premeditated for your sympathy. throw out your kleenex and raise up your sandpaper (and not the fine grade). this is kon tum, vietnam.
our intention for the day was to rent a motorbike, go and see all the "authentic" and "unspoilt" villages of vietnam and return to a meal of vegetarian pho and a saigon or three. ellen and i arose from our slumber at 7pm, only to find all of the hostel's bikes had been rented. grumbling followed on our end and our hostel's manager, quick to rectify the situation as i had complemented her recent pedicure yelled into a phone for about 20 seconds. five minutes later, a man appeared with a bike, presented us with the keys and two helmets, making eye contact only to say "5pm." we correctly assumed that this was the hour that the motorbike was to return to it's owner. probably then end of his shift at work.
ellen had trained on motorbike under the tutelage of yoven, a friend we made in da lat. she was to ride us to the villages, where it would be safer for me to experiment on the petrol-fueled vehicle. for those of you who don't know me...i don't have a driver's license. rather, i ride bikes to save your environment people!!
our first stop was actually a pastel colored church with the usual ave maria hanging around. a little nervous, i agreed to take the motorbike around the parking lot in a complete circle. success was mine and i was feeling pretty good. i was still a little jerky on the gas, but it was a clean circle and nothing was damaged...yet.
we must have passed through 3-4 villages, making friends only with those under the age of 7 as we passed. took some shots of the kids, made them laugh, all that good stuff. then ellen climbed down from the bike and asked if i was ready. since the parking lot pre-run had gone so swimmingly, i figured, what the hay...there were no people or livestock on the rode, so they only thing i could hurt was MYSELF, which i promptly did.
lunging forward, things were going quite nicely. i stopped a comfortable distance away from ellen and tried to turn the bike around. a temporary dose of la-la-land made me forget that this was not a bicycle and gripping the handle bar, aka the GAS in a certain manner would make the bike move forward. halfway through the turn i crashed through larger-than-gillian branches and plummeted down a small slope into someones field. i officially maimed my sandals and a toe...all other pieces were in check, although some sore and slightly discolored. the familiar "i'm okay, i'm okay," hung in the air as several villagers, whom i presume owned the field rushed over to help.
i had beat the reaper once more! my smile quickly faded once ellen pointed out the keys were no longer in the ignition. minus shoes; myself, ellen and the villagers frantically tossed foliage and the damaged branches aside looking for the keys. i was in a bit of a panic. we were very far from our hostel and well, we were very far from our hostel. and i had no shoes.
one of the villagers dashed off to their abode, only to return with a key in hand. it fit into the ignition...and it fit into the hole to access the gas...pure luck. we thank youed and kam oned our way back onto the bike; with ellen in the front and continued on our way.
a little shaken by the incident, we stopped for some sugar cane juice and i stuffed my bra with ice. one foreigner with yellow hair and one without shoes attracted a lot of attention...definitely unwanted, and we hopped back on our knight to explore further.
the highlight of the day had to be discovering a school house, under which children apparently on their lunch break were milling about. already turning a healthy rock lobster red, we snuck under the school for shelter. the curious little ones shrieked in excitement and i quickly shifted into english teacher mode and did my normal routine with the kids. we sang, we danced, we piled upon one another, that is until their teacher returned looking a bit unsure. we quickly made our exit and returned to the road, our new home.
riding along the waterfront, ellen let me man the bike once more. i did a clean line forwards and backwards, and that was enough for me...for now. and my mother would be happy to know, the whole time i was wearing my helmet, which was appropriately decorated with a decal on the back that said, "enjoy your life." even with a purple boob, i definitely am doing just that.
our intention for the day was to rent a motorbike, go and see all the "authentic" and "unspoilt" villages of vietnam and return to a meal of vegetarian pho and a saigon or three. ellen and i arose from our slumber at 7pm, only to find all of the hostel's bikes had been rented. grumbling followed on our end and our hostel's manager, quick to rectify the situation as i had complemented her recent pedicure yelled into a phone for about 20 seconds. five minutes later, a man appeared with a bike, presented us with the keys and two helmets, making eye contact only to say "5pm." we correctly assumed that this was the hour that the motorbike was to return to it's owner. probably then end of his shift at work.
ellen had trained on motorbike under the tutelage of yoven, a friend we made in da lat. she was to ride us to the villages, where it would be safer for me to experiment on the petrol-fueled vehicle. for those of you who don't know me...i don't have a driver's license. rather, i ride bikes to save your environment people!!
our first stop was actually a pastel colored church with the usual ave maria hanging around. a little nervous, i agreed to take the motorbike around the parking lot in a complete circle. success was mine and i was feeling pretty good. i was still a little jerky on the gas, but it was a clean circle and nothing was damaged...yet.
we must have passed through 3-4 villages, making friends only with those under the age of 7 as we passed. took some shots of the kids, made them laugh, all that good stuff. then ellen climbed down from the bike and asked if i was ready. since the parking lot pre-run had gone so swimmingly, i figured, what the hay...there were no people or livestock on the rode, so they only thing i could hurt was MYSELF, which i promptly did.
lunging forward, things were going quite nicely. i stopped a comfortable distance away from ellen and tried to turn the bike around. a temporary dose of la-la-land made me forget that this was not a bicycle and gripping the handle bar, aka the GAS in a certain manner would make the bike move forward. halfway through the turn i crashed through larger-than-gillian branches and plummeted down a small slope into someones field. i officially maimed my sandals and a toe...all other pieces were in check, although some sore and slightly discolored. the familiar "i'm okay, i'm okay," hung in the air as several villagers, whom i presume owned the field rushed over to help.
i had beat the reaper once more! my smile quickly faded once ellen pointed out the keys were no longer in the ignition. minus shoes; myself, ellen and the villagers frantically tossed foliage and the damaged branches aside looking for the keys. i was in a bit of a panic. we were very far from our hostel and well, we were very far from our hostel. and i had no shoes.
one of the villagers dashed off to their abode, only to return with a key in hand. it fit into the ignition...and it fit into the hole to access the gas...pure luck. we thank youed and kam oned our way back onto the bike; with ellen in the front and continued on our way.
a little shaken by the incident, we stopped for some sugar cane juice and i stuffed my bra with ice. one foreigner with yellow hair and one without shoes attracted a lot of attention...definitely unwanted, and we hopped back on our knight to explore further.
the highlight of the day had to be discovering a school house, under which children apparently on their lunch break were milling about. already turning a healthy rock lobster red, we snuck under the school for shelter. the curious little ones shrieked in excitement and i quickly shifted into english teacher mode and did my normal routine with the kids. we sang, we danced, we piled upon one another, that is until their teacher returned looking a bit unsure. we quickly made our exit and returned to the road, our new home.
riding along the waterfront, ellen let me man the bike once more. i did a clean line forwards and backwards, and that was enough for me...for now. and my mother would be happy to know, the whole time i was wearing my helmet, which was appropriately decorated with a decal on the back that said, "enjoy your life." even with a purple boob, i definitely am doing just that.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
We made it to Cambodia!
Ellen Here.
Cambodia, Oh, Cambodia! What a great unplanned surprise. Thanks to Christine's Suggestions we decided to make the trip even without a guide book. It is so close we figured it would be silly not to.
We made it on a slow boat to Cambodia via the Mekong Delta. And when I say slow I actually mean that in relatives term because we were put on what was called the "fast boat." We took a tour of the Mekong Delta from Saigon and then made it to Chau Doc the last city in the Delta before entering Cambodia.
We were herded with the other foreigners around on a "speed boat" until we got to the Cambodian border were shadiness and small time corruption is alive and well. I forgot a photo so a had to give $2 to the officers, but no one actually took my picture, they just took my money. Gillian forgot her exit card in Saigon so another officer told her she had to give him 50,000 Dong, she only had 49,000 and he said that was fine and shoved it in his pocket!
We made it to Phnom Penh (btw: the ph is silent) in the afternoon and rented bikes and got to ride all around the city just exploring. It is a great little city. Very clean and has tons of expats living there. The funniest thing for us though was that everything is priced in American Dollars. It was even odder for Gillian who had not lived in the US or dealt with US currency for over a year to start thinking of things in Dollars. If you need change smaller then a dollar they will give you back their currency Riel, so it is a trip to get back change in two different currency at one time. In respect of having to use USD, Cambodia has been the most expensive place that we have been so far. The guest houses have been okay but the food is very pricey an average meal for two of us is $10. And to put this in perceptive an average meal for us in India was $2. Even though I have loved Cambodia, I will be happy to be to a less expensive country since we still have 3 months to travel.
We spend the next morning in Phnom Penh exploring the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda.
http://www.adam-carr.net/mainphotofolder/phnompenh/PICT2897.JPG
It was better kept then Disneyland. The grounds and building were perfectly kept and really magical. I could totally live there! After finding a great bakery we made the 6 hour bus trip to Siem Reip which I have fallen in love with.
Siem Riep is the city were Angkor is located just outside of, one of the Wonders of the World.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor
Siem Riep is large town whose main industry is tourism for Angkor with a great mix of Cambodian and Western cultures. There is a river that runs through town and a "Pub Street" were everyone does in the evenings for 50 cent beer after sweating 10 pounds off in the day hiking through Angkor in the tropical heat. Gillian and I against the advice of many (mostly tuk-tuk drivers) rented bikes and rode about 10 KM to Angkor Wat and explored temple after temple. It was fun to be on a bike but the heat and my flat tire killed it by the end of the day.
We befriended an Iowan and a Brit and decided today and tomorrow to share a tuk-tuk with them. We made quit a team and it was fun to spend so time with new people, both of them are really well traveled.
There is not much to write about Angkor except, WOW! And we made it to the temple were Tomb Raider was shot.
You will have to see my pictures when I get back.
Cambodia, Oh, Cambodia! What a great unplanned surprise. Thanks to Christine's Suggestions we decided to make the trip even without a guide book. It is so close we figured it would be silly not to.
We made it on a slow boat to Cambodia via the Mekong Delta. And when I say slow I actually mean that in relatives term because we were put on what was called the "fast boat." We took a tour of the Mekong Delta from Saigon and then made it to Chau Doc the last city in the Delta before entering Cambodia.
We were herded with the other foreigners around on a "speed boat" until we got to the Cambodian border were shadiness and small time corruption is alive and well. I forgot a photo so a had to give $2 to the officers, but no one actually took my picture, they just took my money. Gillian forgot her exit card in Saigon so another officer told her she had to give him 50,000 Dong, she only had 49,000 and he said that was fine and shoved it in his pocket!
We made it to Phnom Penh (btw: the ph is silent) in the afternoon and rented bikes and got to ride all around the city just exploring. It is a great little city. Very clean and has tons of expats living there. The funniest thing for us though was that everything is priced in American Dollars. It was even odder for Gillian who had not lived in the US or dealt with US currency for over a year to start thinking of things in Dollars. If you need change smaller then a dollar they will give you back their currency Riel, so it is a trip to get back change in two different currency at one time. In respect of having to use USD, Cambodia has been the most expensive place that we have been so far. The guest houses have been okay but the food is very pricey an average meal for two of us is $10. And to put this in perceptive an average meal for us in India was $2. Even though I have loved Cambodia, I will be happy to be to a less expensive country since we still have 3 months to travel.
We spend the next morning in Phnom Penh exploring the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda.
http://www.adam-carr.net/mainphotofolder/phnompenh/PICT2897.JPG
It was better kept then Disneyland. The grounds and building were perfectly kept and really magical. I could totally live there! After finding a great bakery we made the 6 hour bus trip to Siem Reip which I have fallen in love with.
Siem Riep is the city were Angkor is located just outside of, one of the Wonders of the World.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor
Siem Riep is large town whose main industry is tourism for Angkor with a great mix of Cambodian and Western cultures. There is a river that runs through town and a "Pub Street" were everyone does in the evenings for 50 cent beer after sweating 10 pounds off in the day hiking through Angkor in the tropical heat. Gillian and I against the advice of many (mostly tuk-tuk drivers) rented bikes and rode about 10 KM to Angkor Wat and explored temple after temple. It was fun to be on a bike but the heat and my flat tire killed it by the end of the day.
We befriended an Iowan and a Brit and decided today and tomorrow to share a tuk-tuk with them. We made quit a team and it was fun to spend so time with new people, both of them are really well traveled.
There is not much to write about Angkor except, WOW! And we made it to the temple were Tomb Raider was shot.
You will have to see my pictures when I get back.
Friday, March 13, 2009
This is for the Iowa Family
To make this short and sweet:
I got to shoot an AK-47 at the Cu Chi Tunnels and I was a damm good shot thanks to my Uncle Joe. The Cu Chi Tunnels were just like Disneyland but with guns!
I got to shoot an AK-47 at the Cu Chi Tunnels and I was a damm good shot thanks to my Uncle Joe. The Cu Chi Tunnels were just like Disneyland but with guns!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
what can i get for ten dollahs???
whenever i feel sick or expired, i like to compare my brain to a bowl of oatmeal that contains a tad too much liquid; be it milk or water. combine this with flashes of full metal jacket and apocalypse now, and you have the ultimate psychedelic fiber adventure on constant replay. I'M IN VIETNAM!!! so is ellen. i'm pinching myself in saigon and my stomach has never been so excited since i was 16. goodbye lentils and aloo jazz...HELLO CHOPSTICKS (the sequel, as i have been living in china for the past year) AND PHO!
huddled in the back of my 60's literature classroom scouring the pages of a tim o'brien; armed with a massive highlighter...who thought i'd end up here? my father avoided it, only for his daughter to visit it of her own free will. while the city is oozing with museums that contain or depict physical evidence of the war and it offers adventure day trips (the cu chi temples); one could just as easily assume that the citizens of saigon like collecting military relics. the battle scars in this area remain quite latent, although i have to wonder how many of the physical anomalies that we have witnessed can be attributed to the spraying of agent orange.
the only thing that's lacking here is a working knowledge of the language on my behalf. it can honestly provide you with a much richer experience. unfortunately, ellen and i have yet to grasp the six tones (and i thought four was tragic) of the vietnamese language. luckily, everyone seems to have a good sense of humor about the whole shabang; although i've had to physically hold down waitresses while i tried to explain my order through gesticulations. i am not a stranger to this form of assault, as this was also a daily food ordering ritual in yuyao.
i am also no stranger to disneyfied tour spots in asia. elsie and i biked our little foreign hearts out to the chinese jade garden near ningbo, only to confront a series of gardens that seemed to laugh in our faces, a shooting range, and a large empty temple complex next to carnival rides. while it was worth the dong spent to go the tunnels, a little bit less flair could have made the experience more...authentic? i don't know if that's the word i actually want to use, as i would rather miss the authenticity of war and violence firsthand at all costs.
setting: the cu chi tunnels. we came to a series of exhibits that described the viet cong prior to entering the tunnels. there was an animatronix section of viet cong boys and gals dressed in their wartime regalia crafting various homemade bombs. one switch set them ablaze with action as they hammered away at metal panels and carved bamboo spikes. this lasted all of 15 seconds in an effort to conserve energy i suppose. our tour guide was tickled pink after "confessing" to us that every mannequin viet cong gal was his girlfriend. the boy gets around!
approaching the souvenir stand (one of many), we were invited (at a price) to shoot an ak-47, along with other guns that i honestly can't name. all i know is they were big and the sony headphones we were given did nothing to soften the sound. it actually reminded me of 3 am in yuyao when everyone awakes with the incredible urge to set off all of the crackers they have been saving 'neath their beds. ellen and a man from holland shot. i just stood by took photographs of our two gun enthusiasts. the rest of the group ate ice cream cones. ice cream cones on a battlefield...i guess eric and i did that at gettysburg, but ahhh!!! sprinkles. chocolate syrup. foil wrapping.
hovering over the entrance to the tunnels, everyone was given a choice. about half of our crew went down for the first round, but then came out only to realize there was more. yes, the tunnels were hot and dirty...and freaky. i made ellen go first and her khakis served as a beacon as i followed them through meandering stretches and stairwells that lasted all of five minutes, but seemed like a lifetime of staten island museum touch tunnel traumatic experiences.
dusting off our hands, we were shuffled through the remaining souvenir stalls and watched a video which i like to call "american killer hero," as it depicted wartime in the cu chi area and the daily routines of the villagers who simply wanted to live sans the american influence. everyone expected ellen and i to be slightly offended, but remembering the american propaganda distributed during that time period only served to make us embarrassed. to the right was a pinball-machine like construction of the tunnels with a lovely oil painted landscape of american copters.
we hit the w.c., another stand and headed home.
i really wonder about historical monuments and how we choose to convey our past as humans. there are many sides to every story, but however you look at this one, it's just sad for all of the parties involved. i really feel inadequate, under qualified and a bit inappropriate because i have only really scratched the surface of this event in our and vietnam's history. but i am glad i went.
huddled in the back of my 60's literature classroom scouring the pages of a tim o'brien; armed with a massive highlighter...who thought i'd end up here? my father avoided it, only for his daughter to visit it of her own free will. while the city is oozing with museums that contain or depict physical evidence of the war and it offers adventure day trips (the cu chi temples); one could just as easily assume that the citizens of saigon like collecting military relics. the battle scars in this area remain quite latent, although i have to wonder how many of the physical anomalies that we have witnessed can be attributed to the spraying of agent orange.
the only thing that's lacking here is a working knowledge of the language on my behalf. it can honestly provide you with a much richer experience. unfortunately, ellen and i have yet to grasp the six tones (and i thought four was tragic) of the vietnamese language. luckily, everyone seems to have a good sense of humor about the whole shabang; although i've had to physically hold down waitresses while i tried to explain my order through gesticulations. i am not a stranger to this form of assault, as this was also a daily food ordering ritual in yuyao.
i am also no stranger to disneyfied tour spots in asia. elsie and i biked our little foreign hearts out to the chinese jade garden near ningbo, only to confront a series of gardens that seemed to laugh in our faces, a shooting range, and a large empty temple complex next to carnival rides. while it was worth the dong spent to go the tunnels, a little bit less flair could have made the experience more...authentic? i don't know if that's the word i actually want to use, as i would rather miss the authenticity of war and violence firsthand at all costs.
setting: the cu chi tunnels. we came to a series of exhibits that described the viet cong prior to entering the tunnels. there was an animatronix section of viet cong boys and gals dressed in their wartime regalia crafting various homemade bombs. one switch set them ablaze with action as they hammered away at metal panels and carved bamboo spikes. this lasted all of 15 seconds in an effort to conserve energy i suppose. our tour guide was tickled pink after "confessing" to us that every mannequin viet cong gal was his girlfriend. the boy gets around!
approaching the souvenir stand (one of many), we were invited (at a price) to shoot an ak-47, along with other guns that i honestly can't name. all i know is they were big and the sony headphones we were given did nothing to soften the sound. it actually reminded me of 3 am in yuyao when everyone awakes with the incredible urge to set off all of the crackers they have been saving 'neath their beds. ellen and a man from holland shot. i just stood by took photographs of our two gun enthusiasts. the rest of the group ate ice cream cones. ice cream cones on a battlefield...i guess eric and i did that at gettysburg, but ahhh!!! sprinkles. chocolate syrup. foil wrapping.
hovering over the entrance to the tunnels, everyone was given a choice. about half of our crew went down for the first round, but then came out only to realize there was more. yes, the tunnels were hot and dirty...and freaky. i made ellen go first and her khakis served as a beacon as i followed them through meandering stretches and stairwells that lasted all of five minutes, but seemed like a lifetime of staten island museum touch tunnel traumatic experiences.
dusting off our hands, we were shuffled through the remaining souvenir stalls and watched a video which i like to call "american killer hero," as it depicted wartime in the cu chi area and the daily routines of the villagers who simply wanted to live sans the american influence. everyone expected ellen and i to be slightly offended, but remembering the american propaganda distributed during that time period only served to make us embarrassed. to the right was a pinball-machine like construction of the tunnels with a lovely oil painted landscape of american copters.
we hit the w.c., another stand and headed home.
i really wonder about historical monuments and how we choose to convey our past as humans. there are many sides to every story, but however you look at this one, it's just sad for all of the parties involved. i really feel inadequate, under qualified and a bit inappropriate because i have only really scratched the surface of this event in our and vietnam's history. but i am glad i went.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
"guru" is the official buzzword of india, at least from the mouths of wai guo rens (foreigners). if you don't have one, you at least have something derogatory to say about your friends'. i have had the pleasure of watching many a guru in action on television. the usual: a bunch of people dressed in white wriggling upon brightly colored yoga mats that you (the viewer) secretly pray would start flying because lets face it, "aladdin" is way more entertaining and has a far superior soundtrack. i've yet to meet anyone whose guru hustled postcards and diy henna kits in the day time.
varanasi reeks of spirituality (whatever that means)...its inhabitants have divinity in their footsteps and their glistening skin is only slightly tinged with a layer of ashes. for hours, we watched bodies carried in bamboo stretchers and wrapped in gold lame ushered to the shore of the ganga to burn after a quick dip. the relatives of the deceased are mashed in front of, behind, and next to the body. not one member of the grieving parties shed a tear. heads are shaved, white fabric is worn, but their eyes smile and their hips sway to the beating drums that lead the processions down to the ganga.
inspecting the steps of the main ghat prior to the nightly ati (sp?) ceremony, a boy popped his head out from behind a mass of walking saris."don't sit in the crap."
"ehh, i wont. anyways, it's okay. this is india."
"no it isn't madam. this is varanasi. the rest of india is very clean."
"have you been?"
"no...."
"well, i have, and i can tell you there's dirt everywhere."
this was how i found my guru. avoiding cow pies. my guru's name is and was prakash. he's 13 and he has several brothers and sisters. born and raised in varanasi, he comes from what he explained as a long line of business men who mainly sell (aka harass) tourists. little prakash was taking a break from the hustle and flow. he showed me his wares, but only as a side conversation. he had some sun-bleached booklets of postcards and a diy henna kit, which ellen explained she was allergic to.
"then i must throw it away," prakash said, looking at the kit as if it was suddenly emblazoned with the mark of the beast.
"no, no, no," ellen protested, "it just makes me sick."
"then it's no good." she spared the kit's life by quickly feigning interest in the postcards.
"how many rupees for these?"
"80."
"what??? i know someone who will give it to me for 50."
"then show me where they are, so i can hit them. they don't know how to make a profit."
"just give me the indian price."
"i can't give you the indian price. you aren't indian, and if i don't charge you 80 rupees than i don't make a profit."
little prakash saw this was going nowhere. he sat down to tell of his tour guide days and how he has met people from all over the world, whom impressed with his english and general knowledge, have offered to take him away from this "place."
a cell phone rings. prakash digs in his pocket. "i got this from a romanian." it's a text message, he bemoans. his friend wants to know if we need a boat tour. he rolls his eyes. he commiserates with the hassling and says that he usually backs down when he can see that a tourist is upset. he sits. we buy some chai and offer to get him a cup."that's bad tea. foreigners drink that. i'll go get some good stuff." he comes back with a cup that while appears to hold the same milky liquid mine does, it somehow seems more authentic in his little brown hands. we steer the conversation towards culture. ellen and i realized that we have trapped ourselves. we initially told my guru we were from canada because americans are thought to be richer, thus have more rupees to throw around. in keeping with the lie, we discuss canadian issues...you know, hockey, syrup, the symmetrical maple leaf???
prakash and i then discuss love. he confesses that women do nothing but complicates one's life and he's honestly too busy to even entertain the thought of having a girlfriend at the current time. he admits proudly that although his family is traditional, his mother would never arrange a marriage for him unless he requested it. in between shooing away older men who keep asking prakash to convince us that we need massages, he admits to me that i need to watch out for myself because i am "miss universe." he explains by saying that men here want to do "things i don't want to say to you" to you if you are a white woman. we share a laugh and i convince prakash that we are not interested and indian men are simply curious. he smirks. he doesn't believe me and silently whispers that i am lucky that i cant understand what men around me are saying.
with his well-trained eye, prakash targets a middle-aged white woman in a floppy hat. he dashes off every 10 minutes or so to try and sell something. "i'm not so lucky." i try to cheer him up by reminding him of how clever and well articulated he is. he laughs. "i know, everyone tells me this, yet they won't buy anything from me. i don't want to sell my conversation, but i wish i had more luck."
prakash asks about our future indian plans, and i regrettably inform him that we are leaving varanasi the next day. he hunches his back slightly and looks at the ceremony. "it's a shame you know, everytime i make a good friend, they always leave so soon." i actually got tears in my eyes and felt a little mickey mouse club...whether or not it was an act, prakash was and is an extremely lovable and happy child. i considered him so clever for his age, but then remembered that i was also a little spitfire at thirteen, and we probably would've gotten along quite well. it's weird how as you get older, you peg "children" as being naive and simple...yet, they really are as complex as you are at 26...they just have less bills and wrinkles. (to be continued...)
varanasi reeks of spirituality (whatever that means)...its inhabitants have divinity in their footsteps and their glistening skin is only slightly tinged with a layer of ashes. for hours, we watched bodies carried in bamboo stretchers and wrapped in gold lame ushered to the shore of the ganga to burn after a quick dip. the relatives of the deceased are mashed in front of, behind, and next to the body. not one member of the grieving parties shed a tear. heads are shaved, white fabric is worn, but their eyes smile and their hips sway to the beating drums that lead the processions down to the ganga.
inspecting the steps of the main ghat prior to the nightly ati (sp?) ceremony, a boy popped his head out from behind a mass of walking saris."don't sit in the crap."
"ehh, i wont. anyways, it's okay. this is india."
"no it isn't madam. this is varanasi. the rest of india is very clean."
"have you been?"
"no...."
"well, i have, and i can tell you there's dirt everywhere."
this was how i found my guru. avoiding cow pies. my guru's name is and was prakash. he's 13 and he has several brothers and sisters. born and raised in varanasi, he comes from what he explained as a long line of business men who mainly sell (aka harass) tourists. little prakash was taking a break from the hustle and flow. he showed me his wares, but only as a side conversation. he had some sun-bleached booklets of postcards and a diy henna kit, which ellen explained she was allergic to.
"then i must throw it away," prakash said, looking at the kit as if it was suddenly emblazoned with the mark of the beast.
"no, no, no," ellen protested, "it just makes me sick."
"then it's no good." she spared the kit's life by quickly feigning interest in the postcards.
"how many rupees for these?"
"80."
"what??? i know someone who will give it to me for 50."
"then show me where they are, so i can hit them. they don't know how to make a profit."
"just give me the indian price."
"i can't give you the indian price. you aren't indian, and if i don't charge you 80 rupees than i don't make a profit."
little prakash saw this was going nowhere. he sat down to tell of his tour guide days and how he has met people from all over the world, whom impressed with his english and general knowledge, have offered to take him away from this "place."
a cell phone rings. prakash digs in his pocket. "i got this from a romanian." it's a text message, he bemoans. his friend wants to know if we need a boat tour. he rolls his eyes. he commiserates with the hassling and says that he usually backs down when he can see that a tourist is upset. he sits. we buy some chai and offer to get him a cup."that's bad tea. foreigners drink that. i'll go get some good stuff." he comes back with a cup that while appears to hold the same milky liquid mine does, it somehow seems more authentic in his little brown hands. we steer the conversation towards culture. ellen and i realized that we have trapped ourselves. we initially told my guru we were from canada because americans are thought to be richer, thus have more rupees to throw around. in keeping with the lie, we discuss canadian issues...you know, hockey, syrup, the symmetrical maple leaf???
prakash and i then discuss love. he confesses that women do nothing but complicates one's life and he's honestly too busy to even entertain the thought of having a girlfriend at the current time. he admits proudly that although his family is traditional, his mother would never arrange a marriage for him unless he requested it. in between shooing away older men who keep asking prakash to convince us that we need massages, he admits to me that i need to watch out for myself because i am "miss universe." he explains by saying that men here want to do "things i don't want to say to you" to you if you are a white woman. we share a laugh and i convince prakash that we are not interested and indian men are simply curious. he smirks. he doesn't believe me and silently whispers that i am lucky that i cant understand what men around me are saying.
with his well-trained eye, prakash targets a middle-aged white woman in a floppy hat. he dashes off every 10 minutes or so to try and sell something. "i'm not so lucky." i try to cheer him up by reminding him of how clever and well articulated he is. he laughs. "i know, everyone tells me this, yet they won't buy anything from me. i don't want to sell my conversation, but i wish i had more luck."
prakash asks about our future indian plans, and i regrettably inform him that we are leaving varanasi the next day. he hunches his back slightly and looks at the ceremony. "it's a shame you know, everytime i make a good friend, they always leave so soon." i actually got tears in my eyes and felt a little mickey mouse club...whether or not it was an act, prakash was and is an extremely lovable and happy child. i considered him so clever for his age, but then remembered that i was also a little spitfire at thirteen, and we probably would've gotten along quite well. it's weird how as you get older, you peg "children" as being naive and simple...yet, they really are as complex as you are at 26...they just have less bills and wrinkles. (to be continued...)
Layers of Kolkata
Ellen Here:
Kolkata was so much more then I expected it to be. We have received the royal treatment from some family friends and were able to stay at an wonderful old club in the great area of town were everything was walkable. It funny for Gillian to have 3 people serving at one meal while for most of the trip we have been having to chase people down or serve ourselves.
Kolkata was so much more then I expected it to be. We have received the royal treatment from some family friends and were able to stay at an wonderful old club in the great area of town were everything was walkable. It funny for Gillian to have 3 people serving at one meal while for most of the trip we have been having to chase people down or serve ourselves.
The main reasons why I like Kolkata so much more then Delhi is that it is smaller and everything is accessible by foot or metro.
It is a really unique city because it is stuck between many worlds. The city is only 300 years old and was built by the British as its capital. The city was the major Asian port for hundreds of years. It is influenced by British, Persians, and Chinese which all mixed and then are over laid with the Indian Culture. All of these flavors of Kolkata's past are still alive and well in the city put many are stuck in different time periods.
The decaying mansions from the days of the Raj stand next to the new condos going up faster then the ones in Williamsburg.
I was able volunteer in Kolkata and it has had the most impact on me since my time in India. I was a volunteer at for the Missionaries of Charity, the order that Mother Theresa started in Kolkata.
I was only able to spend a day working for them because we made not planed anytime but the one day was enough to see how they ran their ship and really experience it.
A volunteers day starts at 6 am with mass and then tea at the Mother House were everyone gathers daily to get their assignment for the day. The Missionaries of Charity have many hositals, orphanages, and outreach centers through Kolkata and now even around the world. So, I only had expired at one of their hospitals.
At the hospital I worked at, the women work in the womens ward the men in the mens ward. We helped for about a hour washing all the langury and then we spent the better part of our morning just sitting and being with the women on the pourch while the beds were all changes.
The women in this hospital had anything from burn victims to mental illness. But the most important thing was that they were all loved. The work at the hospitals all was done by the sisters or the staff. They were not dependent on volunteers to get the work done. The role of the volunteer was to provide the TLC and a loving touch to these women.
The volunteers really just massaged them and painted their nails. We also feed them at meal times. Even though this seems like a simple and little job, I think that it was one of the most important and most impactful. Everyone needs to know that they are loved and a valued human being no matter what their state of health.
One of Mothere Theresa's major missions was to love everyone and make sure that even the poorest of the poor and the sickest of the sick felt loved. The amazing thing about the Missionaries of Charity is that this is the exact role that their volunteers play and the mission of Mother Theresa is still the main foucs.
Every volunteers that I met was also a blessing to me. There were people form all over the world volunteerting for one day to 6 months at a time. To be able to talk to each of them and find out everyones reasons for being there was a incredable too.
Kolkata was an wonderful way to end India, and I would love to go back there soon to volunteer for a longer amount of tme. We have made it to Vietnam and are running around in Ho Chi Mihn City so stay tuned....
The women in this hospital had anything from burn victims to mental illness. But the most important thing was that they were all loved. The work at the hospitals all was done by the sisters or the staff. They were not dependent on volunteers to get the work done. The role of the volunteer was to provide the TLC and a loving touch to these women.
The volunteers really just massaged them and painted their nails. We also feed them at meal times. Even though this seems like a simple and little job, I think that it was one of the most important and most impactful. Everyone needs to know that they are loved and a valued human being no matter what their state of health.
One of Mothere Theresa's major missions was to love everyone and make sure that even the poorest of the poor and the sickest of the sick felt loved. The amazing thing about the Missionaries of Charity is that this is the exact role that their volunteers play and the mission of Mother Theresa is still the main foucs.
Every volunteers that I met was also a blessing to me. There were people form all over the world volunteerting for one day to 6 months at a time. To be able to talk to each of them and find out everyones reasons for being there was a incredable too.
Kolkata was an wonderful way to end India, and I would love to go back there soon to volunteer for a longer amount of tme. We have made it to Vietnam and are running around in Ho Chi Mihn City so stay tuned....
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Delhi Bellie
Ellen Here!
So it is official:
I got Delhi Bellie while actually in Delhi (haha), or as some people say I have had an Indian Baptism.
Do not worry, I have survived and have been able to move on from Delhi. We ended up having to stay in Delhi for over a week , which was a little too long. However 3 of thoughs days were in the hotel room watching only HBO and CNN. (not because I love movies and the news, but because they were the only English channels on TV.)
Delhi is actually a great modern city and we got to see a larger part of it. Delhi ended up being a place for us as well to get organize and plan the rest of our trip.
It started out very sad because we had to say good bye to Susanna on Feb 16th and we are still trying to move on.
We were able to figure out the Metro easily and were able to move around most of the city by Metro and foot. It was nice to not be at the mercy of Rickshaw drivers and I think they were shocked to see westerners walking.
We have already made it to Vietnam with out even having to leave India. We ventured from the not so pleasant "backpackers" area to the part of Delhi with all the embassies and were we found the little Vietnamese Embassy next to the fortress that is the Chinese Embassy. We got our Vietnam Visas with no problem and leave on March 8 for one month. Our Chinese visa were not as easy and we will just say, at this point we don't have one....
The most interesting thing about Delhi to me was the difference between Old and New Delhi. Old Delhi has these crazy crowded winding streets and ancient temples, while New Delhi has huge boulevards and turn abouts that look much like Paris.
We were able to see much of New Delhi. Gillian even planed a day where we went to all the art galleries. We realized how spoiled we are as New Yorkers because we have Chelsea with all the galleries with in a few blocks. Well in Delhi there are less then 10 good galleries and you have to take Rickshaws between most of them. But we were able to get our fill of art and we even saw a ceramic show!
We made friends with a couple from Northern California who are both retired from the railroad and it was really fun to spend some time with them and get there perspective on India. And now a think I want to go to Mexico next.
The other fun thing we got to do was see a Bollywood movie (which was all in Hindi) and re-united with our friend Tavis who we meet on the camel trek in the Thar Desert. Since he lived in Delhi he took us to a real bar and we had a fun night out.
SO, we made it out of Delhi and I am feeling much better now!
So it is official:
I got Delhi Bellie while actually in Delhi (haha), or as some people say I have had an Indian Baptism.
Do not worry, I have survived and have been able to move on from Delhi. We ended up having to stay in Delhi for over a week , which was a little too long. However 3 of thoughs days were in the hotel room watching only HBO and CNN. (not because I love movies and the news, but because they were the only English channels on TV.)
Delhi is actually a great modern city and we got to see a larger part of it. Delhi ended up being a place for us as well to get organize and plan the rest of our trip.
It started out very sad because we had to say good bye to Susanna on Feb 16th and we are still trying to move on.
We were able to figure out the Metro easily and were able to move around most of the city by Metro and foot. It was nice to not be at the mercy of Rickshaw drivers and I think they were shocked to see westerners walking.
We have already made it to Vietnam with out even having to leave India. We ventured from the not so pleasant "backpackers" area to the part of Delhi with all the embassies and were we found the little Vietnamese Embassy next to the fortress that is the Chinese Embassy. We got our Vietnam Visas with no problem and leave on March 8 for one month. Our Chinese visa were not as easy and we will just say, at this point we don't have one....
The most interesting thing about Delhi to me was the difference between Old and New Delhi. Old Delhi has these crazy crowded winding streets and ancient temples, while New Delhi has huge boulevards and turn abouts that look much like Paris.
We were able to see much of New Delhi. Gillian even planed a day where we went to all the art galleries. We realized how spoiled we are as New Yorkers because we have Chelsea with all the galleries with in a few blocks. Well in Delhi there are less then 10 good galleries and you have to take Rickshaws between most of them. But we were able to get our fill of art and we even saw a ceramic show!
We made friends with a couple from Northern California who are both retired from the railroad and it was really fun to spend some time with them and get there perspective on India. And now a think I want to go to Mexico next.
The other fun thing we got to do was see a Bollywood movie (which was all in Hindi) and re-united with our friend Tavis who we meet on the camel trek in the Thar Desert. Since he lived in Delhi he took us to a real bar and we had a fun night out.
SO, we made it out of Delhi and I am feeling much better now!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Near.. Far.. Wherever you are...
(This is Susanna making a guest blog appearance. )
So Ellen, Gillian and I had checked into our first hotel in Jaisalmer, where we were given the room directly behind the front desk, complete with window facing said desk. Relaxing that night, about to fall asleep, the quiet but distinct sound of Celine Dion being hummed by our extremely dignified, possibly Hare Krishna hotel proprietor came wafting in. Yes, Ellen confirmed it, that is definitely the Titanic theme song. Of course, we responded by singing along. Maybe it was that or maybe it was Gillian's late night political and philosphical discussions with the same fellow, and almost certainly his brother's obvious interest in Ellen played a part... in the Hotel Jeet Mahal becoming our adopted family for the week. And maybe the whole trip? We had a bit of a rough beginning since we were all a bit awkward in the bargaining department, which led to quite a scene, after which we flooded the bathroom and advised some other tourists not to stay there. But it turned out to have the best shower in all of India (as far as I know), a good internet connection, and a really sweet family that we kept going back to hang out with even though they never had space for us to stay there again after our camel adventures. We did get to use the shower again, thanks to Gillian's good work ambassadoring our successor in the reception room.
But we had to move on because I was due to fly out of Delhi and we still had an overnight train and another city and some national park exploring to do, so...
Into the wilds of rickshaw drivers, camel wagons, motorcycles carrying whole families, train stations jam packed with people , and the non a/c 2nd class 3 tiered sleeper car of the train. not for the faint hearted or the gastrointestinally challenged. Which, unfortunately, one often is when traveling in India. But we made it to: Jaipur! And immediately tried our luck with the morning bus to Bharatpur. Which we found to be a refreshingly pleasant location... clean rooms! bouganvillea! a balcony for hanging ALL of our handwashed clothing, and pretending to do yoga on! And the promise of bicycles for rent, from which we could happily explore the large bird sanctuary the next morning...
Gillian couldn't wait and borrowed a bicycle from the guy next door so she could go to the train station to get our tickets for Delhi. When someone asks you not to give them anything at all in exchange for a bicycle in India, watch out.. apparently there were no brakes, the seat was lopsided, and the pedals were about to fall off. But Gillian was very determined and off she rode into the sunset, with only the shouted directions of passersby, a constant and ever growing audience of locals, and a large swarm of gnats to keep her company. Gillian is my hero.
The next day we decided to walk to the park and rent bicycles there, only to discover that apparently the director of the park had, just a few days before our arrival, made a rule that no foreigners could ride bicycles in the park anymore. The rickshaw mafia stikes again! There were plenty of bicycle rickshaws, and we considered trying to rent one of them (without driver, so we could take turns pedaling) but decided that arguing with the park officials was a much more profitable approach. In the end, we walked. All day. But it was really lovely, and there were lots of amazing birds, even for three city girls, and monkeys and cows, and some sort of mysterious animal that apeared to be a cross between a cow and a deer but turned out to be the world's largest antelope. And then we got to have yummy banana pancakes for dinner. Or breakfast.
After that it was the morning train to Delhi, and my last day in India.
I miss you two, and I know you're having amazing adventures! Lots of love to ya
So Ellen, Gillian and I had checked into our first hotel in Jaisalmer, where we were given the room directly behind the front desk, complete with window facing said desk. Relaxing that night, about to fall asleep, the quiet but distinct sound of Celine Dion being hummed by our extremely dignified, possibly Hare Krishna hotel proprietor came wafting in. Yes, Ellen confirmed it, that is definitely the Titanic theme song. Of course, we responded by singing along. Maybe it was that or maybe it was Gillian's late night political and philosphical discussions with the same fellow, and almost certainly his brother's obvious interest in Ellen played a part... in the Hotel Jeet Mahal becoming our adopted family for the week. And maybe the whole trip? We had a bit of a rough beginning since we were all a bit awkward in the bargaining department, which led to quite a scene, after which we flooded the bathroom and advised some other tourists not to stay there. But it turned out to have the best shower in all of India (as far as I know), a good internet connection, and a really sweet family that we kept going back to hang out with even though they never had space for us to stay there again after our camel adventures. We did get to use the shower again, thanks to Gillian's good work ambassadoring our successor in the reception room.
But we had to move on because I was due to fly out of Delhi and we still had an overnight train and another city and some national park exploring to do, so...
Into the wilds of rickshaw drivers, camel wagons, motorcycles carrying whole families, train stations jam packed with people , and the non a/c 2nd class 3 tiered sleeper car of the train. not for the faint hearted or the gastrointestinally challenged. Which, unfortunately, one often is when traveling in India. But we made it to: Jaipur! And immediately tried our luck with the morning bus to Bharatpur. Which we found to be a refreshingly pleasant location... clean rooms! bouganvillea! a balcony for hanging ALL of our handwashed clothing, and pretending to do yoga on! And the promise of bicycles for rent, from which we could happily explore the large bird sanctuary the next morning...
Gillian couldn't wait and borrowed a bicycle from the guy next door so she could go to the train station to get our tickets for Delhi. When someone asks you not to give them anything at all in exchange for a bicycle in India, watch out.. apparently there were no brakes, the seat was lopsided, and the pedals were about to fall off. But Gillian was very determined and off she rode into the sunset, with only the shouted directions of passersby, a constant and ever growing audience of locals, and a large swarm of gnats to keep her company. Gillian is my hero.
The next day we decided to walk to the park and rent bicycles there, only to discover that apparently the director of the park had, just a few days before our arrival, made a rule that no foreigners could ride bicycles in the park anymore. The rickshaw mafia stikes again! There were plenty of bicycle rickshaws, and we considered trying to rent one of them (without driver, so we could take turns pedaling) but decided that arguing with the park officials was a much more profitable approach. In the end, we walked. All day. But it was really lovely, and there were lots of amazing birds, even for three city girls, and monkeys and cows, and some sort of mysterious animal that apeared to be a cross between a cow and a deer but turned out to be the world's largest antelope. And then we got to have yummy banana pancakes for dinner. Or breakfast.
After that it was the morning train to Delhi, and my last day in India.
I miss you two, and I know you're having amazing adventures! Lots of love to ya
Monday, February 16, 2009
i don't know how i obnoxiously highlighted this...
although we have returned from our three day camel trek several cities ago, it is my duty to my mother to keep her updated, so here i go. what seemed like three pretty good days seemed like the pinnacle of my existence once i detailed our trip to our new found friend branden, who hails from dc. im sure i've driven up their business; which i guess is a good thing because i hold the camel drivers very near and dear to my heart.
setting: the thar desert, aka the younger sibling of the sahara. both are beautiful, cruel and unforgiving. at approximately 7:30 am, susanna, ellen and i crammed into the back of a jeep with our camel crew, which comprised of sylvia (from queens via columbia), tavis (from delhi via maryland), duncan (from bristol), dawn (from hong kong) and yoko (from shanghai via japan). ellen was chosen to be our "ambassador," which is our no-longer secret code for taking people under our wings, or basically forcing them to be our friends and love us forever. while she wasn't entirely satisfied with her role, i think she did a damn fine job, as all of the contact information given to us thus far has been legit...or so we think.
day one: light camel riding. there was lunch cooked under the shade of what i consider to be "a circle of life tree" and pleasantries exchanged as we all became friends. ellen, being a natural born leader was given the largest camel (mr. lalu) to ride. whilst susanna tried to help her get on, something went slightly wrong because in what could've been a live-action opening to the flintstones, ellen fell off. the camel was sitting as she kind of slid head first down it's neck before bobbing a bit and landing face first in the sand. it all happened in very slow motion, it was kind of surreal. but she got up, dusted off her khakis and tried to tame the beast somewhat more successfully. we stopped at what i think were two "villages," but we all felt awkward staring at the inhabitants and basically kicking sand or looking at more cows. after setting up camp at the base of some serious dunes, we all gathered around a campfire to engage in a sing-off against our leaders. they obliterated us as everything sung in hindi automatically wins because we can't really understand it, which only heightens its magical potential. our giant "mineral water" bottle and several pans served as instruments and we forced our comrades to wail madonna far into the night. we were additionally blessed with a full moon. in keeping up with my obsession with "bathroom culture," the desert became my powder room! aided by the moonlight, i was free to relieve myself anywhere without concerning myself with getting lost, stepping on a camel, or straying into a wild dog brawl (see night 2).
day two: sadly, three members of our party departed, as they had only signed up for the one day one night option that we didnt know existed. we said our goodbyes and promised to meet again as we watched them head back with our youngest camel driver, whom i affectionately call little korea. he had met his current korean girlfriend on a previous camel trek and refused to believe that dawn and yoko couldn't speak korean. thus, a lot of conversations ended with yoko screaming, "im japanese!" after the first lalu incident, the camel drivers decided that i (the shortest member of any crew that doesnt contain people under the age of 10) should ride the lalu. this resulted in me having to be heaved atop the horny beast every time we stopped. i forgot to mention that most of the camels were in heat. thus, every time they sensed a female about 10-15 km away, they started foaming at the mouth. this was also accompanied by the sound of blowing bubbles in chocolate milk in stereo as blew air into their tongues that also drooped out the side of their mouths. it was a mess. there was camel hormone foam all over my shoes and jacket, thanks to my transfer to the lalu, the horniest of them all.
day two was a bit of a disaster once the drivers decided the camels should run. after about 30 minutes, we all complained of severe thigh aches and took turn walking our camels. we stopped in another two villages, the second reminding me a bit of the amish horror films that are shown on tv late at night. we were greeted by a couple of girls. one had drawn random symbols on her face with marker and was fond of flipping up her eyelids and growling at us. her smaller companion donned a filthy trucker hat, which she lifted to reveal a head full of fleas? lice? i cant be too sure. she kept trying to remove the insects from her hair and toss them into ours. i decided to slip away from the crowd, my hygienic safety at risk. unsuccessfully, i was approached by a little pint sized boy who aggressively tried to trade his ball (which appeared to be a paintball that never exploded) for my eyeglasses. in an effort to keep him at bay, i decided to engage in a game of catch with him. by this time, flippy eyelids had sauntered over, obviously upset about the lack of attention being paid to her. grabbing the ball, she pegged me hardcore in the leg, leaving me with a sweet black and blue. abandoning the operation all together, i tried to see how yoko was doing. she was trying to get a shot of a small puppy, but every time she was about to click the shutter, a demon child would pop a body part into the frame. flippy spit at her and susanna. defeated, we trekked back towards the drivers, begging them to take us away from this place.
the winds were strong as we settled down to camp. there was the usually wonderful meal of chapatti, chai and some vegetable mush that was utterly delectable. upon discovering the i had my italk in my bag, we managed to record some of the camel drivers songs on yoko's ipod. their eyes glistened as they got to listen to the playback of their voices, and kamal started tearing a bit. we promised to make them a cd and send them some of our old discmans as soon as we returned to our countries of origin. settling down under a full moon once again, we were awoken in the middle of the night by sounds of barking and pissing. it seems (my head was hidden far under the blankets) that a pack of wild dogs were fighting over the remains of our dinner right next to our heads. it was insane. i was a little freaked, as i didnt have my neosporin in case of a large fight. 15 minutes into the massacre, one of the camel drivers awoke to shoo them away, and the rest of the night was quite pleasant.
day three: heading back to the jeeps. i was a little sad to leave mr. khan and kamal in the desert, as they had become my pals. they taught me how to clean plates in the desert (using sand!), pack up a camel, make them run and sit, it was pretty crazy. but they had a new group to meet and i had some serious showering to attend to. upon our return, we were greeted by our little family at the hotel jeet...it was sweet. and it rhymes...and i have to go write an email to my man, so that's all for now.
setting: the thar desert, aka the younger sibling of the sahara. both are beautiful, cruel and unforgiving. at approximately 7:30 am, susanna, ellen and i crammed into the back of a jeep with our camel crew, which comprised of sylvia (from queens via columbia), tavis (from delhi via maryland), duncan (from bristol), dawn (from hong kong) and yoko (from shanghai via japan). ellen was chosen to be our "ambassador," which is our no-longer secret code for taking people under our wings, or basically forcing them to be our friends and love us forever. while she wasn't entirely satisfied with her role, i think she did a damn fine job, as all of the contact information given to us thus far has been legit...or so we think.
day one: light camel riding. there was lunch cooked under the shade of what i consider to be "a circle of life tree" and pleasantries exchanged as we all became friends. ellen, being a natural born leader was given the largest camel (mr. lalu) to ride. whilst susanna tried to help her get on, something went slightly wrong because in what could've been a live-action opening to the flintstones, ellen fell off. the camel was sitting as she kind of slid head first down it's neck before bobbing a bit and landing face first in the sand. it all happened in very slow motion, it was kind of surreal. but she got up, dusted off her khakis and tried to tame the beast somewhat more successfully. we stopped at what i think were two "villages," but we all felt awkward staring at the inhabitants and basically kicking sand or looking at more cows. after setting up camp at the base of some serious dunes, we all gathered around a campfire to engage in a sing-off against our leaders. they obliterated us as everything sung in hindi automatically wins because we can't really understand it, which only heightens its magical potential. our giant "mineral water" bottle and several pans served as instruments and we forced our comrades to wail madonna far into the night. we were additionally blessed with a full moon. in keeping up with my obsession with "bathroom culture," the desert became my powder room! aided by the moonlight, i was free to relieve myself anywhere without concerning myself with getting lost, stepping on a camel, or straying into a wild dog brawl (see night 2).
day two: sadly, three members of our party departed, as they had only signed up for the one day one night option that we didnt know existed. we said our goodbyes and promised to meet again as we watched them head back with our youngest camel driver, whom i affectionately call little korea. he had met his current korean girlfriend on a previous camel trek and refused to believe that dawn and yoko couldn't speak korean. thus, a lot of conversations ended with yoko screaming, "im japanese!" after the first lalu incident, the camel drivers decided that i (the shortest member of any crew that doesnt contain people under the age of 10) should ride the lalu. this resulted in me having to be heaved atop the horny beast every time we stopped. i forgot to mention that most of the camels were in heat. thus, every time they sensed a female about 10-15 km away, they started foaming at the mouth. this was also accompanied by the sound of blowing bubbles in chocolate milk in stereo as blew air into their tongues that also drooped out the side of their mouths. it was a mess. there was camel hormone foam all over my shoes and jacket, thanks to my transfer to the lalu, the horniest of them all.
day two was a bit of a disaster once the drivers decided the camels should run. after about 30 minutes, we all complained of severe thigh aches and took turn walking our camels. we stopped in another two villages, the second reminding me a bit of the amish horror films that are shown on tv late at night. we were greeted by a couple of girls. one had drawn random symbols on her face with marker and was fond of flipping up her eyelids and growling at us. her smaller companion donned a filthy trucker hat, which she lifted to reveal a head full of fleas? lice? i cant be too sure. she kept trying to remove the insects from her hair and toss them into ours. i decided to slip away from the crowd, my hygienic safety at risk. unsuccessfully, i was approached by a little pint sized boy who aggressively tried to trade his ball (which appeared to be a paintball that never exploded) for my eyeglasses. in an effort to keep him at bay, i decided to engage in a game of catch with him. by this time, flippy eyelids had sauntered over, obviously upset about the lack of attention being paid to her. grabbing the ball, she pegged me hardcore in the leg, leaving me with a sweet black and blue. abandoning the operation all together, i tried to see how yoko was doing. she was trying to get a shot of a small puppy, but every time she was about to click the shutter, a demon child would pop a body part into the frame. flippy spit at her and susanna. defeated, we trekked back towards the drivers, begging them to take us away from this place.
the winds were strong as we settled down to camp. there was the usually wonderful meal of chapatti, chai and some vegetable mush that was utterly delectable. upon discovering the i had my italk in my bag, we managed to record some of the camel drivers songs on yoko's ipod. their eyes glistened as they got to listen to the playback of their voices, and kamal started tearing a bit. we promised to make them a cd and send them some of our old discmans as soon as we returned to our countries of origin. settling down under a full moon once again, we were awoken in the middle of the night by sounds of barking and pissing. it seems (my head was hidden far under the blankets) that a pack of wild dogs were fighting over the remains of our dinner right next to our heads. it was insane. i was a little freaked, as i didnt have my neosporin in case of a large fight. 15 minutes into the massacre, one of the camel drivers awoke to shoo them away, and the rest of the night was quite pleasant.
day three: heading back to the jeeps. i was a little sad to leave mr. khan and kamal in the desert, as they had become my pals. they taught me how to clean plates in the desert (using sand!), pack up a camel, make them run and sit, it was pretty crazy. but they had a new group to meet and i had some serious showering to attend to. upon our return, we were greeted by our little family at the hotel jeet...it was sweet. and it rhymes...and i have to go write an email to my man, so that's all for now.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Obama-Marley Nation
A quick observation from Ellen.
Every time we tell people we are from the USA. We get one of two responses.
1. an enthusiastic "OBAMA"
2. "No women, No Cry: No Chapati, No Chai" sung to us.
Footnote : Yes we know that Bob Marley is not from the USA, but from Jamaica, people in India don't I guess.
Every time we tell people we are from the USA. We get one of two responses.
1. an enthusiastic "OBAMA"
2. "No women, No Cry: No Chapati, No Chai" sung to us.
Footnote : Yes we know that Bob Marley is not from the USA, but from Jamaica, people in India don't I guess.
Friday, February 13, 2009
"I will survive, hey hey"
Yes, Gillian, Susanna, and I all survived the 3 day camel trek through the Thar Desert. (You should really be singing the song in your head by now.) And when I say survived, I mean we survived: 3 days riding a camel (meaning our butts and thighs hurt like no other), demon village childern, rain that only comes in the Thar Desert every 7 years, a pack a wild dogs trying to get our leftover food at night which was right next to our heads, Dehli Bellie, and me falling off the camel, "Mr. LaLu," on the first day. (do not worry I am totally fine.)
All I need to say is yes we have surived and have still not had a hot shower.
We are in Jaipur tonight and are going to expore the wilds of Dehli on Monday, but not on camels.
All I need to say is yes we have surived and have still not had a hot shower.
We are in Jaipur tonight and are going to expore the wilds of Dehli on Monday, but not on camels.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
even cows throw up gang signs
watching mustached men equipped with swords
riding atop bedazzled camels
i am a changed woman...
the hotel we are currently staying at lets out directly onto the street, WHERE THE MR. DESERT COMPETITION PARADE BEGAN. rubbing the black crust out of my eyes, i grabbed my italk (thanks for the suggestion eric) and my camera to join the locals and other hotel dwellers to watch the procession that marked the beginning of the mr. and mrs. desert festival. while i couldn't react quick enough to really catch the subtle moments of grandeur...the street was caked with turbans, mirrors, tourists, flowers...and camel poo.
ellen, susanna and i stopped briefly to grab a coffee and some mean pastries en route to the stadium to watch the full festivities which included turban tying competitions, various dance routines that made me shake what my momma gave me, the mrs. desert competition...and of course, the mr. i have never seen such serious staches since purusing the streets of willy-b competition. the host had the courtesy to inform us what each style of stache actually revealed about its grower...i was entranced. we didn't want to leave my little spot on the lawn all day...and gosh darn we didn't. tug of war tomorrow...foreigners vs. indians.
the day after tomorrow we are off on a three day camel trek to camp in sand dunes, look at some more forts, and visit some villages and farms further out of town...i'm so pumped, i might wear flourescents. tell bijun i've been rocking my ef shirt every other day, so i'm expecting a bonus upon my return. much love. xoxoxoxo
riding atop bedazzled camels
i am a changed woman...
the hotel we are currently staying at lets out directly onto the street, WHERE THE MR. DESERT COMPETITION PARADE BEGAN. rubbing the black crust out of my eyes, i grabbed my italk (thanks for the suggestion eric) and my camera to join the locals and other hotel dwellers to watch the procession that marked the beginning of the mr. and mrs. desert festival. while i couldn't react quick enough to really catch the subtle moments of grandeur...the street was caked with turbans, mirrors, tourists, flowers...and camel poo.
ellen, susanna and i stopped briefly to grab a coffee and some mean pastries en route to the stadium to watch the full festivities which included turban tying competitions, various dance routines that made me shake what my momma gave me, the mrs. desert competition...and of course, the mr. i have never seen such serious staches since purusing the streets of willy-b competition. the host had the courtesy to inform us what each style of stache actually revealed about its grower...i was entranced. we didn't want to leave my little spot on the lawn all day...and gosh darn we didn't. tug of war tomorrow...foreigners vs. indians.
the day after tomorrow we are off on a three day camel trek to camp in sand dunes, look at some more forts, and visit some villages and farms further out of town...i'm so pumped, i might wear flourescents. tell bijun i've been rocking my ef shirt every other day, so i'm expecting a bonus upon my return. much love. xoxoxoxo
Thursday, February 5, 2009
ahMENdabad
Gillian and I made it to ahmedabad which has little to boast for itself except that it is one of the world's top 10 most polluted cities also is home of the Ghandi Ashram. We ended up calling it, ahMENdabad: the city of men, because there honestly seemed to be men and only men everywhere in the city. It was the craziest place we have been to so far in India, every street was jammed packed with vendors, motorbikes, people, and cows. But we made it though and it was good prep for us to get ready for Delhi and Kolkuta.
The one really amazing spot in ahmedabad though was the Ghandi Ashram, also known as the Sabarmati Ashram.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabarmati_Ashram
The Ghandi Ashram was a very peaceful and gentle place to be in the mists of the craziness of the city. It was also great to renew my knowledge of Ghandi and really understand how one man changed a nation and influenced the world. I am really glad we got there. I also got the play Cricket with the kids who went to school there.
We found a wonderful women's craft Co-Op called SEWA in Ahmedabad were we were able to bye some gifts and actually feel good about it!
http://www.sewa.org/
We made it to Jodpur via a night bus, Again? (We keep taking them because of the schedules, but really instead of sleeper buses they should be called stay awake all night and try to sleep buses). We found Susanna!!!! and we all are going to Jasilmer for the Mr and Mrs Desert contest tomorrow!
In Jodpur we got to see the fort and I got the play with clay! Women in the market here will make little things out of clay or decorate pots while sitting by their stands all day. I sat with women who worked in clay and she gave me some to play with which was a really different texture then what I use in NC. She was making little Ganesh figures, I tried to copy one up with little success. She actually ended up laughing at mine and pointing to her's saying "very good" and then pointing to mine and saying "very bad," so alast guess I could not make it as a potter in India.
We promise pictures to come, we just need to get them on to a computer. Which is harder then you think.
The one really amazing spot in ahmedabad though was the Ghandi Ashram, also known as the Sabarmati Ashram.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabarmati_Ashram
The Ghandi Ashram was a very peaceful and gentle place to be in the mists of the craziness of the city. It was also great to renew my knowledge of Ghandi and really understand how one man changed a nation and influenced the world. I am really glad we got there. I also got the play Cricket with the kids who went to school there.
We found a wonderful women's craft Co-Op called SEWA in Ahmedabad were we were able to bye some gifts and actually feel good about it!
http://www.sewa.org/
We made it to Jodpur via a night bus, Again? (We keep taking them because of the schedules, but really instead of sleeper buses they should be called stay awake all night and try to sleep buses). We found Susanna!!!! and we all are going to Jasilmer for the Mr and Mrs Desert contest tomorrow!
In Jodpur we got to see the fort and I got the play with clay! Women in the market here will make little things out of clay or decorate pots while sitting by their stands all day. I sat with women who worked in clay and she gave me some to play with which was a really different texture then what I use in NC. She was making little Ganesh figures, I tried to copy one up with little success. She actually ended up laughing at mine and pointing to her's saying "very good" and then pointing to mine and saying "very bad," so alast guess I could not make it as a potter in India.
We promise pictures to come, we just need to get them on to a computer. Which is harder then you think.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
hampi go go!
thanks to the detailed and frank descriptions of dysentery in the lonely planet guide, as well as the indian transportation system, i have reverted back to my anal phase. we're talking freud here...not about my past employment (it's a joke mom, i'll explain over lasagna). as a pee machine and coffee addict, a good 60% of my energy involves finding a bathroom, or thinking about spawning a business over where i've found the best places to relieve myself. however, when faced with the options of taking a 15 hour tour bus without facilities, or walking...i've chosen the latter, only to be beaten by ellen in a thumb war and coaxed into taking the bus. i have done this twice. has my bladder become stronger...no. but thanks to a year in china, im a pretty good squatter and i've always been keen on marking my territory on national monuments (watch out taj mahal)...as well as the gardens of shiji ming yuan (my apt. complex).
piling into what was supposed to be a 10 hour bus from goa to hampi, we were met with a cattle car equipped with reasonable sleepers, but inhumane chairs. luckily we opted for the "sleepers". it is really impossible to use them for their desired purpose when you stop every 20 minutes to cram more people into the flood-lit cage, jump over packs and children, or try to do your stuff in the dark next to a cow and what could potentially be a rabid dog because they look like they might cover your ass from the all-too-eager locals who wanna sneak a peek. it was insane. every time i was about to go or mid-stream, the bus driver or a random would appear screaming "hampi go go," and i'd have to half zip and run. this did not make me happy...but it ended.
upon reaching our desired destination, we were hassled by a billion people shoving business cards of all kinds into our faces. i figured breathing into their faces would stop the onslaught...but i think they liked it. tom's of maine sweeping the globe!
hampi is/was amazing. according to the locals and all of their exquisitely hand-painted signs which make me soooo happy, this city has more ruins than any other location in the country. while many opted to explore via rickshaw, we took to cruisers and pedalled our way through the ruins for about 2 days. as there are soo many, the chances of running into another group of raging tourists are slim to none. it gave ellen and i a lot of time time to catch up in the shade of decaying post and lintel constructions, or even atop granite boulders. dare i mention im a GRANITEVILLE GAL??? oh i did, born and raised on ada drive, which was featured on the news 2 summers ago and my neighbor was housing chemicals to build bombs. represent!
we met a gal and her boyfriends from australia who were darling and gave us a lot of tips about vietnam and cambodia (we're considering). they warned us of the insane amount of con artists and we both parted ways, only to get ripped off again by a man selling ice candy that tasted like ass. but it was cold ass, and we were hot.
the second day we ventured several miles around the ruins and got a little lost when we ended up on a plateau of rock that seemed to stretch on forever. everyone kept assuring us that there was a path five minutes away. for anyone that has ridden a cruiser, they are like an obese twelve year old who wants to be carried all of time. it's annoying and just not right. cruisers are for people who want to go on a flat road one way, and then the other way at a comfortable speed as they wave to all of their neighbors and avoid hitting any cats. they are not meant to be dragged up rocky stairwells next to cows, goats, and the child paparazzi that keep trying to get you to pose for a picture as you can feel the sweat dripping down your lobster face. every five minutes someone assured us it would be over in 5 minutes. and hour later, we somehow linked up with the main road and hopped back on our 12 yr. olds and road off to the shared showers, which faced the street so you got to hear hagglers and random pipe music and you lathered...ahhh!!! i wish we could've stayed there longer...but onto that place i can't pronounce...
piling into what was supposed to be a 10 hour bus from goa to hampi, we were met with a cattle car equipped with reasonable sleepers, but inhumane chairs. luckily we opted for the "sleepers". it is really impossible to use them for their desired purpose when you stop every 20 minutes to cram more people into the flood-lit cage, jump over packs and children, or try to do your stuff in the dark next to a cow and what could potentially be a rabid dog because they look like they might cover your ass from the all-too-eager locals who wanna sneak a peek. it was insane. every time i was about to go or mid-stream, the bus driver or a random would appear screaming "hampi go go," and i'd have to half zip and run. this did not make me happy...but it ended.
upon reaching our desired destination, we were hassled by a billion people shoving business cards of all kinds into our faces. i figured breathing into their faces would stop the onslaught...but i think they liked it. tom's of maine sweeping the globe!
hampi is/was amazing. according to the locals and all of their exquisitely hand-painted signs which make me soooo happy, this city has more ruins than any other location in the country. while many opted to explore via rickshaw, we took to cruisers and pedalled our way through the ruins for about 2 days. as there are soo many, the chances of running into another group of raging tourists are slim to none. it gave ellen and i a lot of time time to catch up in the shade of decaying post and lintel constructions, or even atop granite boulders. dare i mention im a GRANITEVILLE GAL??? oh i did, born and raised on ada drive, which was featured on the news 2 summers ago and my neighbor was housing chemicals to build bombs. represent!
we met a gal and her boyfriends from australia who were darling and gave us a lot of tips about vietnam and cambodia (we're considering). they warned us of the insane amount of con artists and we both parted ways, only to get ripped off again by a man selling ice candy that tasted like ass. but it was cold ass, and we were hot.
the second day we ventured several miles around the ruins and got a little lost when we ended up on a plateau of rock that seemed to stretch on forever. everyone kept assuring us that there was a path five minutes away. for anyone that has ridden a cruiser, they are like an obese twelve year old who wants to be carried all of time. it's annoying and just not right. cruisers are for people who want to go on a flat road one way, and then the other way at a comfortable speed as they wave to all of their neighbors and avoid hitting any cats. they are not meant to be dragged up rocky stairwells next to cows, goats, and the child paparazzi that keep trying to get you to pose for a picture as you can feel the sweat dripping down your lobster face. every five minutes someone assured us it would be over in 5 minutes. and hour later, we somehow linked up with the main road and hopped back on our 12 yr. olds and road off to the shared showers, which faced the street so you got to hear hagglers and random pipe music and you lathered...ahhh!!! i wish we could've stayed there longer...but onto that place i can't pronounce...
It takes 30 hours to get to hell and back
We just completed what will hopefully be the longest continuous leg of our travels at least in India. It started with what was called a luxury sleeper bus from Hospet to Mumbai. Which was supposed to be a total of 15 hours. (I have discovered the time is a relavant factor in India, it is not so much an exact time you are given but more of am approximation.)
When we first got on we were quite impressed with the our accommodations on wheels. We had a clean queen size bed and lots of head room (this was a vast improvement from our bus from Goa). Only down fall was no restroom. Our sleepy eyes from biking all around Hampi started to get heavy and finally rest about 30 mins into the bus ride about 6:30 pm. When, like a gong, there was extremely loud Bollywood music started to play from the speaker placed directly above out heads about 3 feet away. Both Gillian and the hot Slovenians boys next to us unsuccessfully tried to stuff various article of clothing into the speakers to muffle the noise. Luckily after about 2 hours of being teased by the music being turned off and on, it was turned off for good by the bus diver who a guess just got board.
So 17 hours later with little sleep and the occasional experience of having to pee on the side of the road (or as the bus driver called it the "Indian Bathroom") we were dropped off somewhere in the middle of Mumbai.
We were told we would be taken to Mumbai Central but what do you know, we were not. With the of friendly Indian teenagers an other stranded Japanese backpacker we made it on to a city bus and a hour later we were at the train station with time to spare.
Which leads us to our 8 hours train ride to Ahmendabad in Non-AC class seats. It was painfully since we had not slept in 24 hours. I guess it took all of us on the train about 6 hours to warm up to each other because first 6 hours were spent in silence and the last 2 hours were spent with everyone on in the car talking to us and wanting to now everything about us it was actually really fun to talk to all of then.
The best part was that I got an 20 year old man and a 70 year old women to talk to me for the better part of an hour about Cricket, which I still don't really get.
I am still amazing at the friendliness and openness of the Indian people.
So, in the end Gillian and I made it just fine and treated ourselves to a hotel with hot water last night. It is amazing what sleep and a hot shower can do.
When we first got on we were quite impressed with the our accommodations on wheels. We had a clean queen size bed and lots of head room (this was a vast improvement from our bus from Goa). Only down fall was no restroom. Our sleepy eyes from biking all around Hampi started to get heavy and finally rest about 30 mins into the bus ride about 6:30 pm. When, like a gong, there was extremely loud Bollywood music started to play from the speaker placed directly above out heads about 3 feet away. Both Gillian and the hot Slovenians boys next to us unsuccessfully tried to stuff various article of clothing into the speakers to muffle the noise. Luckily after about 2 hours of being teased by the music being turned off and on, it was turned off for good by the bus diver who a guess just got board.
So 17 hours later with little sleep and the occasional experience of having to pee on the side of the road (or as the bus driver called it the "Indian Bathroom") we were dropped off somewhere in the middle of Mumbai.
We were told we would be taken to Mumbai Central but what do you know, we were not. With the of friendly Indian teenagers an other stranded Japanese backpacker we made it on to a city bus and a hour later we were at the train station with time to spare.
Which leads us to our 8 hours train ride to Ahmendabad in Non-AC class seats. It was painfully since we had not slept in 24 hours. I guess it took all of us on the train about 6 hours to warm up to each other because first 6 hours were spent in silence and the last 2 hours were spent with everyone on in the car talking to us and wanting to now everything about us it was actually really fun to talk to all of then.
The best part was that I got an 20 year old man and a 70 year old women to talk to me for the better part of an hour about Cricket, which I still don't really get.
I am still amazing at the friendliness and openness of the Indian people.
So, in the end Gillian and I made it just fine and treated ourselves to a hotel with hot water last night. It is amazing what sleep and a hot shower can do.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Stary Night
Gillian and I were on the beach sipping cheesy tourist drinks last night when we were finally able to see a clear night sky full of stars.
A friend in North Carolina told me the story of Orion, Taurus and the Pleiades and taught me how to find them in the sky.
http://www.astro.wisc.edu/~dolan/constellations/constellations/Orion.html
It was pretty cool because they were up there just as bright as in the North Carolina sky.
Made me feel at home.
A friend in North Carolina told me the story of Orion, Taurus and the Pleiades and taught me how to find them in the sky.
http://www.astro.wisc.edu/~dolan/constellations/constellations/Orion.html
It was pretty cool because they were up there just as bright as in the North Carolina sky.
Made me feel at home.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
the mod squad takes to the waves
ellen and i are currently in goa, getting burned and enjoying vegetarian food. not only can i order food in my own language, i don't have to worry about what mystery meat will be lurking at the bottom of my bowl or food heap...BECAUSE THERE IS'NT ANY! we have been rotating sitting on beach chairs and swimming in the ocean for the past 2 days while trying to dodge sketchy people. we are probably the most modestly dressed people on the beach with our suits, but maybe people find that even more intriguing? bastards...the beach we are staying at is hippie central!!! it's nice because there are no screaming popped collared americans...OMG IM SOOOOO DRUNK. people will claim that this is merely a stereotype of the american traveller. i have trekked across many lands to the soundtrack of the american drunk. however, in our defense, i do think we are one of the friendliest lots.
prior to the paradise that is goa, ellen and i stayed in the small village of panjim. one of the highlights of panjim was simply strolling about the portuguese area, camera in tow, to capture all the colors of the old buildings. we came across a cover band in a small studio and sat down to absorb their covers of santana, a sean paul and the beach boys. we also visited a bunch of churches and posed for a family shot with some tourists. i wish i could detail more of what happened, but my brain is on beach patrol. sand, lassi, i dont want another sarong, check out the nips on that chick, etc...it's a lot to take in...
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Going to Goa
Ellen Here,
We made it out of Mumbai with out any problems, we are now at a small beach village in Goa named Arambol. Gillian is sleeping so I got up early for a yoga class and found in Internet on my way back. The last few day in Mumbai were adventurous. We made it out to the cave temples of Elephanta.
http://www.templenet.com/Maharashtra/elephanta.html
Were a monkey stolid Gillian's Bananas. No joke. Gillian bought a bag a bananas and as we were walking a monkey came out of no were and grabs the bag. It was amazing to see.
We have been released for the protection of out India mother and are now enjoying Goa. Which is a trip in itself.
We made it out of Mumbai with out any problems, we are now at a small beach village in Goa named Arambol. Gillian is sleeping so I got up early for a yoga class and found in Internet on my way back. The last few day in Mumbai were adventurous. We made it out to the cave temples of Elephanta.
http://www.templenet.com/Maharashtra/elephanta.html
Were a monkey stolid Gillian's Bananas. No joke. Gillian bought a bag a bananas and as we were walking a monkey came out of no were and grabs the bag. It was amazing to see.
We have been released for the protection of out India mother and are now enjoying Goa. Which is a trip in itself.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
live from mumbai!
ni hao! hey kids...this is g-train popping my posting cherry. we are tired. extremely tired. our eyelids are caked with sleep, yet we persevere for your enjoyment. india is rad to the googleplex power. mumbai dances with color, cows and palm trees. it reminds me of puerto rico, except everyone here is indian. i wish i could detail everything we accomplished today, but given the time constraints, as my pillow is calling my name...bullets will have to suffice.
- we participated in a laughing yoga session in a park. it was dreamy. we laughed and stretched.
- our hostess convinced the security guards of a nearby residential high rise to allow us access to their roof for photographic purposes. oh yeah and like bollywood actors and actresses will live there eventually, and we were there first. booyah!
- we visited a small temple near a body of water. although my description is general, it's possibly one of the most beautiful things i've seen in asia. and i've been living here a year. you do the math!
- our hostess and her sidekick got us into a soap opera studio shoot in which we posed with the male protagonist...sweet.
- we went to several other temples, one being a Hare Krishna one. we were barefoot. i felt a lot of dirt and grime between my toes, thought about alfalfa and darla and smiled at a sign that detailed the origin of the Hare Krishnas while mentioning TOMPKINS SQUARE PARK. what a wonderful world.
- had my palm read by a friendly astrologist. im independent, will have a smooth life and two kids. ellen is also independent and strong-willed. go figure.
- we watched the inauguration on tv and i was a little too hard on obama's speech. i think i'm being a bit of a party pooper because i missed out on a lot of political action this past year. well, a lot of AMERICAN action. i've been dippin' in international waters.
okay...this is g-train signing off for now. xoxoxoxoxoxo.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
So Far, Really Good
Ian and Klye made me a wonderful meal before I left last night. I had a great short flight of only 5 1/2 hours. Got into the city in 45 minutes on the tube with no problems.
I had a wonderful time with Sarah, Dominic, and Katie in London we had a good veggie lunch and got in some shopping and a museum!
Brooke sent me with treats for Katie and Gillian which went over very well so far!
And to make the day even sweeter some guy gave me the rest of his time on the computer at the internet cafe!
Off again.
I had a wonderful time with Sarah, Dominic, and Katie in London we had a good veggie lunch and got in some shopping and a museum!
Brooke sent me with treats for Katie and Gillian which went over very well so far!
And to make the day even sweeter some guy gave me the rest of his time on the computer at the internet cafe!
Off again.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
A Few Things
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Here is the Journal that I made while in Iowa it is collection of things I have collected over 2008. Pictures and maps (of Dollywood and Brooklyn) mixed in with blank pages for journaling. Traveling Art.
And it is all packed with room to spare!!!!!!! The heaviest things in my pack now are all my travel guides but hopefully I can leave thoughs along the way.
Lunch in London
Dinner in New York, Lunch in London, Breakfast in Mumbai.
Sounds fun but this part of my journey is going to take almost 27 hours. I am leave for London tonight and will be in London for the day on Sunday. Which is good luck because I get to see Sarah, Dominic, and Katie for Lunch and a visit to a museum or two.
I leave for Mumbai on Sunday night and arrive in the morning to meet up Gillian who is traveling form China.
Our great stroke of luck is that we are staying with friends in Mumbai who is going to pick us up from the airport so we do not have to deal with all the madness.
I am also looking forward to a warm 85degrees in Mumbai, which I am longing for after my 3 weeks in cold cold Iowa.
Thanks to everyone in NYC for making my few days here so much fun! I will see you all this summer. I and excited to return to my city soon.
Brooke keep the kitchen warm.
Well here I go.
Sounds fun but this part of my journey is going to take almost 27 hours. I am leave for London tonight and will be in London for the day on Sunday. Which is good luck because I get to see Sarah, Dominic, and Katie for Lunch and a visit to a museum or two.
I leave for Mumbai on Sunday night and arrive in the morning to meet up Gillian who is traveling form China.
Our great stroke of luck is that we are staying with friends in Mumbai who is going to pick us up from the airport so we do not have to deal with all the madness.
I am also looking forward to a warm 85degrees in Mumbai, which I am longing for after my 3 weeks in cold cold Iowa.
Thanks to everyone in NYC for making my few days here so much fun! I will see you all this summer. I and excited to return to my city soon.
Brooke keep the kitchen warm.
Well here I go.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Well here we go. Gillian and I both arrive in Mumbai on the 19th of Jan. Here is the schedaul we have planed. We are going to stay on track as much as possible. We have three date that we must make. We need to be in Amendabad by Feb 2 to meet Susanna, Delhi by Feb 16th so that Susanna can get her flight back to the States on the 17th and Kolkuta by March 3rd to meet my father's friend Govid.
I am almost all pack just have to pick up a few new thins in New York.
I am almost all pack just have to pick up a few new thins in New York.
Mumbai - Jan 19 - 22
3-4 days
1. Fly into
Give ourselves time to adjust to the time change and see the city.
Travel day to Goa - Jan 22
12 hour train ride
8 days
1. Spend a few days on the Beach
3. Old
Francis Xavier
4. Panjjim
Hampi - Jan 31-Feb 2
10 hour train ride
See the ruins
Travel Day to Amendabad - Feb 2
Amendabad - Feb 3-4.
2 days
a. Old Town - the bazaars
b. Mahatma Gandhi's Sabarmati Ashram
c. Hathi Singh Temple, Sidi Sayyid 's Mosue, Alif Shah's Mosque
d. Calico Museum of Textiles
Feb 4-7
Staying with my friend Susanna is going to be teaching at an ashram
about 2 hours outside of Amendabad.
She is then going to travel with Gillian and I to
going to fly out of.
Travel Day to Jodpur - Feb 7
Jodhpur - Feb 7-10
The Blue City - 2-3 days
10 hours from Amendabad by train
a. Village Safari - A day trip to the desert to see local Bishnoi
Tribal Villages
b. Meherangarh Fort and Museum
Ranthambore National Park - Feb 10-12
2 hours by train
Home to Project Tiger. Stay in a tent in the park overnight.
http://www.ranthambhore.com/
Travel day to Jaipur - Feb 12
Jaipur - Feb 12-16
The Pink City ( 5 hours to Delhi) 3-4 days
Feb. 12 Travel day - Feb 12-16
5 hours by train from Jodhpur
a. Hawa Mahai - "Palace of the Wind"
b. City Palace
c. Rent bikes for the day
d. The Forts - Especially the Amber Fort.
e. Pottery - Blue potteries along
f. Sanganer 15 miles from Jaipur that is famous for its crafts. They
make papers, do block prints and blue pottery.
We may also take a few days to explore the desert region North called
Shekhawati.
3-6 days
5 hours from Jaipur by Train
a. Humayun's Tomb
b. Red Fort
c. Jama Masjid
d. Lots of museums......
Agra - Feb 22 - 24
2 hours by rain from Deli
a. Taj Mahal
B. Sikandra
c. Agra Fort
Fatehpur Sikri - Feb 25th
The Ghost city
1 1/2 hours by bus form Agra
Travel Day to Varanasi - Feb 26th
Varanasi - Feb. 26 - March 1
12 hours by train from Agra
a The Ghats
B. a Boat Ride on the Ganze
c. Stay at the Yogi Lodge
d. Bharat Mata
Travel day to Kolkutta - March 2
Kolkutta - March 3-9
13 Hours by Train from Varanasi
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