In Bangalore I can insist that the auto rickshaw driver uses his meter. If the first one won’t do it- I know the next one or the next one or the next-next one- someone eventually will turn on the meter. And even if he doesn’t I know approximately how much it cost to go to the places I frequent here in town so I can get a good enough deal.
In Delhi I had a basic idea- so when I was trying to leave Varanasi and the charges for getting to the airport were running anywhere from 800 rupees to 120 rupees- I knew which end was closer to reality.
I decided not to pay more than 300- I ended up paying 350 plus some imaginary parking charge which I should have told the guy to shove up his hole, but I didn’t. I got the oldest, slowest, ricketiest auto rickshaw in India to take me 25 kilometers to the airport. That’s a little more than 15 miles- it took an hour and a half to transverse.
It’s a good think I left the hotel way early-I was so ready to leave Varanasi I didn’t even care that I would have been sitting in the airport for three hours. Of course that was cut down to an hour and a half on account of the snail like pace of my auto.
At the airport the plane was late departing- but they told me when I got to Delhi (my layover) I would need to identify my luggage before they put it on the next flight. I asked what the process was and he said they would tell me in Delhi like it was some national secret. Since we left late, we got to Delhi late and I asked five people about identifying my luggage for fear that it would be left behind.
They all directed me to one man who indicated that it hadn’t been unloaded from the last (late) flight yet and that he would “Yes-yes I’ve got it I’ll take care of it no problem.”
Of course I did not believe him, but I was ushered to my next flight anyway.
In Bangalore I stood in front of the luggage belt alternating between deciding what kind of scathing remarks I was going to make when I talked to whoever was in charge and trying to be positive and assume they really did take care of it.
Eventually an airline employee came to ask if I was waiting for my luggage . . . why yes that was my general stance here in front of the luggage conveyer belt. He dashed off to get a cart for me- before I could tell him 1. I didn’t think it was really coming and 2. if it did come it was only two small bags so I didn’t need a cart.
In time the airline guy also realized my luggage wasn’t coming. As I had expected my luggage didn’t make it on the plane with me. To my surprise Kingfisher had already placed it on the next flight to Bangalore and it was due to show up in an hour. They were even going to deliver it to my door- except my phone was dead and they wouldn’t be able to call me to get directions and I left my house key in my luggage so I couldn’t get in anyway- well I could have but it seemed easier to just wait at the airport.
When my luggage finally did come- Kingfisher drove me home.
Those Kingfishers are good birds after all.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
One day in Varanasi-
I tried to make it more like a half day, but Kingfisher was not cooperating. I will, however, be flying out tomorrow afternoon- two days earlier than previously planned. (YEAH!)
I was way pissed last night when I got here. First of all, my train was four hours late getting into the city. “What can we do this is Indian Rail?” was all my cabin mates had to say. I had some pent up fury which got released upon the front desk man here at hotel Sai Shiva or wherever the heck I am.
I tried to call the hotel I had booked when I got into the city, no answer on the phone. I got an auto and attempted to follow the instructions on how to find the hotel from the website. The auto driver was not cooperating. He took me not where I wanted to go, but where he wanted me to go and the problem was that it was dark, I was in a strange (stranger even than I thought at the time) city and both he and the guide book recommended against walking alone at night.
We ended up here and I was mad. Not because here is any worse than where I wanted to go, but because I just knew the driver was getting some kind of commission for bringing me here. I tried to call another, different hotel, the phone lines weren’t working, there had been some kind of storm earlier that knocked all the lines out.
I asked to see the room here. It was ok. I asked how much it was. The price was ok. The desk man asked how many nights I was staying I said, “one.”
He said, “you have to pay for two.”
I said, “Why would I pay for two if I’m only staying for one?”
He said, “It’s the rule.”
I said, “That’s a stupid rule, why do you have it?”
He said, “I don’t want you to stay only one night here and other nights in other hotels.”
I said, “But what if I won’t want to stay in other hotels? What if I want to leave Varanasi tomorrow?”
He said, “Then you can stay one night.”
I paid for one night.
At that point- well, to be honest at every point along the way leading up to that point I had already convinced myself that if at all possible, one night in Varanasi was more than enough.
I got up at 5:15 this morning to take a dawn boat ride on the Ganges. It wasn’t as awful as I imagined it. It’s much wider than I thought, and there wasn’t a smell at all. Nothing- that’s weird. It didn’t smell like sewage or death- it didn’t smell like fish- it didn’t have a smell. We rowed past all the ghats. It was early so it wasn’t so busy- the “Burning ghats” were just getting swept clean of yesterday’s ashes- the people on the bathing ghats were still sudsy and the songs were just getting started on the temple ghat.
I half heartedly took a bunch of pictures and set a banana leave bowl full of rose petals out into the water for a “blessing.” I may have negated the blessing by not including the candle . . . but I decided to keep it because it was kind of cute.
After the river trip I came back to the hotel for breakfast and to talk to Kingfisher about changing my flight. Then I was taken on a tour of temples in the area. I went to the monkey temple- where you cannot take pictures because once Pakistan bombed it. 17 people and uncounted monkeys died in that attack- and they don’t want it to happen again.
One thing about Hinduism is that the temples are always lively. From dawn to late at night the temples are going. There are people playing instruments and chanting- others are praying, meditating, reading scriptures- walking around fending off hungry monkeys, giving offerings- giving themselves the marks of the pious- All the daily activity of the temples make American Christianity and Christian churches look pale.
We accumulate so much stuff for our buildings, we have to lock them up so nobody takes the stuff- but nobody can come in for prayer, meditation, worship, reading, praise or fellowship. In that way the temples have us beat.
I also saw the “temple you should go to if you are in love” and the “temple that is too holy that no not-Hindus people can go there.” I saw the former from the outside only, on account of my non-holiness.
The driver commented that I wasn’t excited about it all. Little did he know how not excited I was by it all.
Then I went to see how silk was weaved, by hand- now that is crazy intensive work. Weaving a carpet- ok but weaving a silk sari? By hand?! I’ve heard of it, but I guess I always thought they were kidding. They weren’t. I walked through a house- the first room had a man feeding his goats in it. The second room had silk looms. And I have pictures of a guy throwing a shuttle of thread back and forth through the silk cross threads. It was pretty amazing.
So I bought a few pieces of silk just to show I appreciated seeing how it was done.
I was done by 10AM so I took a shower and laid around naked in my room in which the electricity had gone out. It was stifling hot. By noon I couldn’t take it any more so I went out into the city- I found an Israeli restaurant and had some falafel. I found a café/bakery called “Bread of Life” some kind of missionary thing- I noticed they were serving “chilli con carne (veg).” I don’t know what that could possibly mean. I hung out as long as I could before I just had to come back to the hotel.
Here I am- counting the hours until I leave “vacation” and the days until I leave India.
I tried to make it more like a half day, but Kingfisher was not cooperating. I will, however, be flying out tomorrow afternoon- two days earlier than previously planned. (YEAH!)
I was way pissed last night when I got here. First of all, my train was four hours late getting into the city. “What can we do this is Indian Rail?” was all my cabin mates had to say. I had some pent up fury which got released upon the front desk man here at hotel Sai Shiva or wherever the heck I am.
I tried to call the hotel I had booked when I got into the city, no answer on the phone. I got an auto and attempted to follow the instructions on how to find the hotel from the website. The auto driver was not cooperating. He took me not where I wanted to go, but where he wanted me to go and the problem was that it was dark, I was in a strange (stranger even than I thought at the time) city and both he and the guide book recommended against walking alone at night.
We ended up here and I was mad. Not because here is any worse than where I wanted to go, but because I just knew the driver was getting some kind of commission for bringing me here. I tried to call another, different hotel, the phone lines weren’t working, there had been some kind of storm earlier that knocked all the lines out.
I asked to see the room here. It was ok. I asked how much it was. The price was ok. The desk man asked how many nights I was staying I said, “one.”
He said, “you have to pay for two.”
I said, “Why would I pay for two if I’m only staying for one?”
He said, “It’s the rule.”
I said, “That’s a stupid rule, why do you have it?”
He said, “I don’t want you to stay only one night here and other nights in other hotels.”
I said, “But what if I won’t want to stay in other hotels? What if I want to leave Varanasi tomorrow?”
He said, “Then you can stay one night.”
I paid for one night.
At that point- well, to be honest at every point along the way leading up to that point I had already convinced myself that if at all possible, one night in Varanasi was more than enough.
I got up at 5:15 this morning to take a dawn boat ride on the Ganges. It wasn’t as awful as I imagined it. It’s much wider than I thought, and there wasn’t a smell at all. Nothing- that’s weird. It didn’t smell like sewage or death- it didn’t smell like fish- it didn’t have a smell. We rowed past all the ghats. It was early so it wasn’t so busy- the “Burning ghats” were just getting swept clean of yesterday’s ashes- the people on the bathing ghats were still sudsy and the songs were just getting started on the temple ghat.
I half heartedly took a bunch of pictures and set a banana leave bowl full of rose petals out into the water for a “blessing.” I may have negated the blessing by not including the candle . . . but I decided to keep it because it was kind of cute.
After the river trip I came back to the hotel for breakfast and to talk to Kingfisher about changing my flight. Then I was taken on a tour of temples in the area. I went to the monkey temple- where you cannot take pictures because once Pakistan bombed it. 17 people and uncounted monkeys died in that attack- and they don’t want it to happen again.
One thing about Hinduism is that the temples are always lively. From dawn to late at night the temples are going. There are people playing instruments and chanting- others are praying, meditating, reading scriptures- walking around fending off hungry monkeys, giving offerings- giving themselves the marks of the pious- All the daily activity of the temples make American Christianity and Christian churches look pale.
We accumulate so much stuff for our buildings, we have to lock them up so nobody takes the stuff- but nobody can come in for prayer, meditation, worship, reading, praise or fellowship. In that way the temples have us beat.
I also saw the “temple you should go to if you are in love” and the “temple that is too holy that no not-Hindus people can go there.” I saw the former from the outside only, on account of my non-holiness.
The driver commented that I wasn’t excited about it all. Little did he know how not excited I was by it all.
Then I went to see how silk was weaved, by hand- now that is crazy intensive work. Weaving a carpet- ok but weaving a silk sari? By hand?! I’ve heard of it, but I guess I always thought they were kidding. They weren’t. I walked through a house- the first room had a man feeding his goats in it. The second room had silk looms. And I have pictures of a guy throwing a shuttle of thread back and forth through the silk cross threads. It was pretty amazing.
So I bought a few pieces of silk just to show I appreciated seeing how it was done.
I was done by 10AM so I took a shower and laid around naked in my room in which the electricity had gone out. It was stifling hot. By noon I couldn’t take it any more so I went out into the city- I found an Israeli restaurant and had some falafel. I found a café/bakery called “Bread of Life” some kind of missionary thing- I noticed they were serving “chilli con carne (veg).” I don’t know what that could possibly mean. I hung out as long as I could before I just had to come back to the hotel.
Here I am- counting the hours until I leave “vacation” and the days until I leave India.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
I made it to Varanasi- the train was four hours late. Varanasi is the last stop on my "vacation." I'm supposed to be here for 3 days. I think I'll try to change my flight to leave out tomorrow afternoon. If at all possible I will be doing nothing in Bangalore for two days instead of doing nothing in Varanasi for two days.
I have a dawn excursion planned for the morning- I'm feeling pretty confident I can see all I need to see of Hinduism's holiest city in a span of 6 hours.
Kingfisher Airlines, don't let me down!
I have a dawn excursion planned for the morning- I'm feeling pretty confident I can see all I need to see of Hinduism's holiest city in a span of 6 hours.
Kingfisher Airlines, don't let me down!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
I got nothing going in Amritsar. I got in yesterday. I went straight for the Golden Temple. The temp outside was 41C. That’s 106 for us Americans. I don’t know much about Sikhs- ok I admit it I don’t know anything about Sikhs- but I decided to go see their holiest temple anyway. I could have lived without it.
Sure- it was a temple, it was golden and there were plenty of Sikhs around, but in reality what’s that to me? I was feeling sick, it was 106 degrees and I was walking around an enormous marble complex barefoot and with my head covered. Do you know how hot marble gets in the sun? Dang HOT! REAL HOT!
I was wandering around with a scarf on my head- sweating my fat rolls off, hopping from foot to foot trying to keep from getting crispy feet wondering why nearly every other religion (except Christianity) have you take off your shoes before you enter a place of worship. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea- but perhaps some more careful thought could be put into the whole marble floor- outside courtyard 105 degrees materials and structure design.
What I learned about Sikhs-It is some kind of mixture between Hinduism and Islam.
It seems neither Hindus nor Muslims like them so much on account of the whole mixing up of the religions and everyone keeps killing them.
It was started in this area in the 1400s.
The men wear turbans or topknots where they wrap up their hair, which for some reason I’m assuming is very long.
The men all have beards.
The men traditionally wear white shalwar kamis and a knife on a shoulder strap as part of their dress.
The women look like everyone else- they wear shalwar kamis.
Sikhs say they invented the shalwar kamis and everyone just took it up because of it’s simplicity, comfort and style.
The Sikh men here in town have given me the impression that they are gentile, non pushy kind people.
I thought I heard before I came they are known as great warriors- historically.
I think I’ll do more research on Sikh people- not because I loved the temple, but because the people seem to be very kind. The temple provides free food and shelter for travelers and pilgrims. It seemed very organized and clean. Everyone was kind while I was there- but of course there was a lot of staring and nudging me out of the way (lots of people, but it’s India, there are lots of people everywhere).
It could be I wasn’t so impressed because I was tired and not feeling well, but I don’t think so. I was feeling the same wayat the Taj and I really loved it. I think it’s the Hindu thing that throws me off- too many gods confuse me. I’m just a simple monotheist.
After a short time in the temple, I looked around at some of the shops- thought about buying a knife but then figured I had enough knives laying around already. I went back to the hotel for a nap.
I went to the Pakistani-Indian boarder in the evening. Now that was fun. When I first heard people talking about this I thought that they were just going to look at the border and that sounded silly. When India and Pakistan were divided they divided straight down the middle of Punjab state. Things aren’t so different on the other side.
But I was wrong; it’s not just the boarder. It’s a show- it’s a dance off- it’s a national pep rally -it’s a nightly ceremony of showing off and stomping around and cheering that made me glad I came to Amritsar.
More on that in the next blog.
Sure- it was a temple, it was golden and there were plenty of Sikhs around, but in reality what’s that to me? I was feeling sick, it was 106 degrees and I was walking around an enormous marble complex barefoot and with my head covered. Do you know how hot marble gets in the sun? Dang HOT! REAL HOT!
I was wandering around with a scarf on my head- sweating my fat rolls off, hopping from foot to foot trying to keep from getting crispy feet wondering why nearly every other religion (except Christianity) have you take off your shoes before you enter a place of worship. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea- but perhaps some more careful thought could be put into the whole marble floor- outside courtyard 105 degrees materials and structure design.
What I learned about Sikhs-It is some kind of mixture between Hinduism and Islam.
It seems neither Hindus nor Muslims like them so much on account of the whole mixing up of the religions and everyone keeps killing them.
It was started in this area in the 1400s.
The men wear turbans or topknots where they wrap up their hair, which for some reason I’m assuming is very long.
The men all have beards.
The men traditionally wear white shalwar kamis and a knife on a shoulder strap as part of their dress.
The women look like everyone else- they wear shalwar kamis.
Sikhs say they invented the shalwar kamis and everyone just took it up because of it’s simplicity, comfort and style.
The Sikh men here in town have given me the impression that they are gentile, non pushy kind people.
I thought I heard before I came they are known as great warriors- historically.
I think I’ll do more research on Sikh people- not because I loved the temple, but because the people seem to be very kind. The temple provides free food and shelter for travelers and pilgrims. It seemed very organized and clean. Everyone was kind while I was there- but of course there was a lot of staring and nudging me out of the way (lots of people, but it’s India, there are lots of people everywhere).
It could be I wasn’t so impressed because I was tired and not feeling well, but I don’t think so. I was feeling the same wayat the Taj and I really loved it. I think it’s the Hindu thing that throws me off- too many gods confuse me. I’m just a simple monotheist.
After a short time in the temple, I looked around at some of the shops- thought about buying a knife but then figured I had enough knives laying around already. I went back to the hotel for a nap.
I went to the Pakistani-Indian boarder in the evening. Now that was fun. When I first heard people talking about this I thought that they were just going to look at the border and that sounded silly. When India and Pakistan were divided they divided straight down the middle of Punjab state. Things aren’t so different on the other side.
But I was wrong; it’s not just the boarder. It’s a show- it’s a dance off- it’s a national pep rally -it’s a nightly ceremony of showing off and stomping around and cheering that made me glad I came to Amritsar.
More on that in the next blog.
Monday, April 23, 2007
I wish I had the time and inclination to write about my days-- but I don't- it's that simple. Its a shame because I'm sure to lose some fabulous details- Highlights-
Giardia- bad-bad-bad
I think I'm almost over it 90% Inshallah-
Train to Amritsar tonight
A police officer asked me how many liters of milk an American buffalo could give at one time . . . I had to admit I did not know- more on that later.
Taj Mahal was AMAZING- so worth it.
Vacation more than half way finished (and there was much rejoicing)
Giardia- bad-bad-bad
I think I'm almost over it 90% Inshallah-
Train to Amritsar tonight
A police officer asked me how many liters of milk an American buffalo could give at one time . . . I had to admit I did not know- more on that later.
Taj Mahal was AMAZING- so worth it.
Vacation more than half way finished (and there was much rejoicing)
The next time your date offers to drive you somewhere, pay attention to how they react on the road. “Driving is very, very revealing,” says body language expert Patti Wood (pattiwood.net). “Years ago, I was on a first date with a man who’d turn left at yellow lights, and take lots of risks on the road. That told me he was a person who would always live a little on the edge.” Other insights from Wood: Lane-changers will probably always be on the lookout for someone better-looking, smarter, or richer than you. Picky parkers who always want to go around one more time to see if they can snag a closer spot probably have problems with commitment. Herky-jerky drivers who accelerate and brake so quickly they leave your stomach queasy may have poor sense of pacing in all areas of life. Plus, if you’re driving, see how they handle it—nagging that you should slow down, speed up, or otherwise do things differently is a sign this person probably won’t love you just the way you are (starting with your bad driving).
I don't really have time for this, but this paragraph from an MSN article called "Five ways to Decode your Date" made me laugh.
http://msn.match.com/msn/article.aspx?articleid=6695&TrackingID=523934&BannerID=566942&menuid=6>1=9278
I don't really have time for this, but this paragraph from an MSN article called "Five ways to Decode your Date" made me laugh.
http://msn.match.com/msn/article.aspx?articleid=6695&TrackingID=523934&BannerID=566942&menuid=6>1=9278
Saturday, April 21, 2007
When my mother was feeling poorly, she used to say cute little phrases like, “I feel like death warmed over.”
I’m feeling poorly now and I feel like death in an oven.
It is of course unusually hot here in Delhi for April, and I have a fever, among other discomforts. Discomforts that include unfortunate and frequent bodily discharged from both ends if you know what I mean.
Next stop Agra- Taj Mahal- this better be good.
Can’t write more now, this key board sticks in an annoying way and I need to go feel sick and sorry for myself.
I’m feeling poorly now and I feel like death in an oven.
It is of course unusually hot here in Delhi for April, and I have a fever, among other discomforts. Discomforts that include unfortunate and frequent bodily discharged from both ends if you know what I mean.
Next stop Agra- Taj Mahal- this better be good.
Can’t write more now, this key board sticks in an annoying way and I need to go feel sick and sorry for myself.
Friday, April 20, 2007
I'm so hot I feel like I'm going to burst into flames. I embrase the fact that I am not a regular person not in any need of fancy things. I get it- I need fancy things. I need bottled water, I need air conditioning with it's hotter than well, hot. I need comfort food when I'm sick, and strange as it may sound- that's not rice an dahl for me. Maybe for lots of others out there- not so much for me.
What I'd really like is to go somewhere cold, and lay there for a day or two. I have another whole week of "vacation" and I've already had enough.
I feel like I'm going to throw up, then burst into flames.
I'm so over India.
Do I really need to see the Taj Mahal?
What I'd really like is to go somewhere cold, and lay there for a day or two. I have another whole week of "vacation" and I've already had enough.
I feel like I'm going to throw up, then burst into flames.
I'm so over India.
Do I really need to see the Taj Mahal?
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Today:
I got off the train in Jaipur. I had held back a little because it seemed like I was the only woman on the train, and I didn’t feel really graceful climbing down from the top bunk.
As soon as I walked off the train this young guy came up to me and said, “You want a prepaid auto?” I looked at him suspiciously. He asked where I was going. I told him. He said, “Ok, 20 rupees.” Well, that means that either he was trying to sucker me into something, or the place was in walking distance. I decided to take him up on the offer. I had to pee so bad I didn’t care if it was three feet away, as long as I got there quick and I was willing to pay 20 rupees to get there fast.
As we started walking he asked, “Is your name Katherine?”
I said, “No,” thinking that was a funny way to start a conversation with someone you just met at the train station.
He said, “Oh, what is it?” (Like big surprise, it’s not Katherine!)
I said, “Shannon.”
He said, “Oh, Shannon. You just came from Udaipur.”
I was mildly surprised, until I remembered that I just got off the train from Udaipur, so of course he would know I just came from Udaipur.
Then he said, “You live in Bangalore and work at Microsoft, you will go to Delhi next.”
At that point I began to wonder what exactly was going on.
He said, “I talked to Jamil” (my driver in Udaipur) “he’s my friend and he told me you were coming here.” Oh- well, it’s a small India after all then isn’t it?
So Janu- my new driver who knew everything about me took me to my hotel- then he offered to take me wherever I wanted to go. Since the whole hiring a driver thing had gone quite well in Udaipur, I took him up on it.
Janu had me read his volumes upon volumes of “your great!” books that other tourists had signed for him. He showed me his vacation pictures, he told me all about his friends and family and he showed me around town.
His moto: “No hurry, no worry, no chicken curry.”
Great, good thing I don’t eat chicken.
The thing I might be sorry for later:
I made the most costly impulse buy ever- ever- ever
I bought a silk hand knotted carpet. Pricy. Dummy- now I have to carry this heavy carpet around the rest of vacation. Oh- but it is so pretty and soft and aside from my concern that it’s not real silk I love it and it is worth the hassle and the pricy price.
If it’s a hoax and not a real silk carpet it was very elaborate setup. He showed me how they make the carpets on the loom (he let me tie a knot on one carpet, so he could “tell the buy that a beautiful woman helped make the carpet.”) He showed me pictures of the dying process for the wool and silk. Then he took me across the street where they wash and comb and clip the carpets- then he took me to his show room and showed me about 20 carpets until I picked one.
It wasn’t a total impulse buy, I have been eyeballing silk carpets since I got here, but I really had no intention of actually buying one while on vacation.
Well, there it is, me and my magic carpet all around north India for the next week and a half.
Would love to talk about yesterday in Udaipur, but I’m starving and I think the restaurant is going to close in a few minutes.
I got off the train in Jaipur. I had held back a little because it seemed like I was the only woman on the train, and I didn’t feel really graceful climbing down from the top bunk.
As soon as I walked off the train this young guy came up to me and said, “You want a prepaid auto?” I looked at him suspiciously. He asked where I was going. I told him. He said, “Ok, 20 rupees.” Well, that means that either he was trying to sucker me into something, or the place was in walking distance. I decided to take him up on the offer. I had to pee so bad I didn’t care if it was three feet away, as long as I got there quick and I was willing to pay 20 rupees to get there fast.
As we started walking he asked, “Is your name Katherine?”
I said, “No,” thinking that was a funny way to start a conversation with someone you just met at the train station.
He said, “Oh, what is it?” (Like big surprise, it’s not Katherine!)
I said, “Shannon.”
He said, “Oh, Shannon. You just came from Udaipur.”
I was mildly surprised, until I remembered that I just got off the train from Udaipur, so of course he would know I just came from Udaipur.
Then he said, “You live in Bangalore and work at Microsoft, you will go to Delhi next.”
At that point I began to wonder what exactly was going on.
He said, “I talked to Jamil” (my driver in Udaipur) “he’s my friend and he told me you were coming here.” Oh- well, it’s a small India after all then isn’t it?
So Janu- my new driver who knew everything about me took me to my hotel- then he offered to take me wherever I wanted to go. Since the whole hiring a driver thing had gone quite well in Udaipur, I took him up on it.
Janu had me read his volumes upon volumes of “your great!” books that other tourists had signed for him. He showed me his vacation pictures, he told me all about his friends and family and he showed me around town.
His moto: “No hurry, no worry, no chicken curry.”
Great, good thing I don’t eat chicken.
The thing I might be sorry for later:
I made the most costly impulse buy ever- ever- ever
I bought a silk hand knotted carpet. Pricy. Dummy- now I have to carry this heavy carpet around the rest of vacation. Oh- but it is so pretty and soft and aside from my concern that it’s not real silk I love it and it is worth the hassle and the pricy price.
If it’s a hoax and not a real silk carpet it was very elaborate setup. He showed me how they make the carpets on the loom (he let me tie a knot on one carpet, so he could “tell the buy that a beautiful woman helped make the carpet.”) He showed me pictures of the dying process for the wool and silk. Then he took me across the street where they wash and comb and clip the carpets- then he took me to his show room and showed me about 20 carpets until I picked one.
It wasn’t a total impulse buy, I have been eyeballing silk carpets since I got here, but I really had no intention of actually buying one while on vacation.
Well, there it is, me and my magic carpet all around north India for the next week and a half.
Would love to talk about yesterday in Udaipur, but I’m starving and I think the restaurant is going to close in a few minutes.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
DAY 1 Ahmedabad, Gujarat
My plane was late leaving Bangalore, but no biggie, I still had plenty of time to waste here. This is really just a stop over place- I flew in at around 3- I'll take the train out at 11:15. I'm at the train station cyber express cafe as I type.
As soon as I landed at the airport I was accosted by about a million auto drivers. I told them all to back off- they are like mosquitoes- always buzzing around your head- I asked a guy who looked local if there was a prepaid stand. He said no, but they all used their meters, so it was hard to get ripped off. Obviously he's never been a white woman traveling alone in India. (Obviously)
I got an auto to the train station- probably paid near the correct amount- give or take 30-40 rupees. I left my backpack at the train station in the "cloak room" aka "left luggage." It cost 20 rupees an hour. In Liverpool I think I paid 2 pounds an hour- translation 40 cents and hour verses 4 dollars an hour.
My same little auto driver tried to take me to sight see- but my Lonely Planet made it look like I could walk to where I wanted to go from the train station. So, after a long conversation of me repeating that I didn't want to go with him and I was walking- off I went- in the wrong direction of course. After another long conversation with four police men they pointed me in the right direction.
I ended up in a market area- so I did what any red blooded American woman would do in my situation- I shopped. Honestly I don't know what gets into me sometimes. Now I have this crap that I'm going to have to lug around the rest of the trip, or send home. I bought a beautiful red dupatta (light shawl) with gold hand work (gold embroidery and sequins) on it for 650 (about $13.00) That fulfils my "Can't leave India without a obscenely sequined piece of material that I'll most likely never use" requirement. But I know it won't stop there. I also bought a tiny traditional Gujarati outfit for Blondi's baby HA! It's super cute! (whopping $3 for that gem) and some cotton suit (shalwar kamis) material for another $3- Two of the venders where Muslim men with excellent English.
One of them gave me his business card all in Gujarati- a language I've never seen before- I didn't even know which way was up on that card- Usually I can at least tell which way is right side up with a language I don't know- but not with Gujarati I'm totally lost.
While I was buying the dupatta I took some pictures of some of the customers in the store- on my way out I was invited to one lady's youngest son's wedding. I took one picture of her- was in the same room with her for 3 minutes and I was invited to her son's wedding.
I'm a novelty- not so many tourists in Ahmedabad. I've seen 4 other white people. I also saw a goat with three legs- so whatever.
Lonely Planet and my new Muslim friends said I should see Jama Masjid- a mosque built in 1432. Unknowingly I walked past it twice thinking it was a veggie market- it wasn't my fault- the minarets fell down1957- how was I supposed to recognize a mosque without minarets. It looked rather shabby from the outside but was very peaceful and beautiful on the inside.
Wide open spaces- freaking hot marble floors (open air court yard) amazing pillars and carved stone window covers.
Then I went to a fancy hotel to get 1. some air conditioning 2. a cold drink and 3. a place to not be stared at like a three headed cow.
The waiter suggested I wear earrings.
I had the "Jain Special." Jains must like tempura- cause that's what it was- deep fried baby corn (baby corn is big here) green pepper rings (Jains don't eat onions) and some kind of freaky little cheesy dough ball which sounds better than it tasted- if you can believe that.
I also got cream float which was yuck and a "mocktail" aka virgin pinacolata- yum. Got me a sammich to go and got back to the train station.
Leaving the area of the train station costs 75 rupees- when we got back here the little guy who took my life in his hands I can't even count the times on the way back to the station- tried to charge me 389.
I said no.
He called over another guy who said, "100."
I said "fine."
So here I am- next leg Udaipur on the overnight train.
My plane was late leaving Bangalore, but no biggie, I still had plenty of time to waste here. This is really just a stop over place- I flew in at around 3- I'll take the train out at 11:15. I'm at the train station cyber express cafe as I type.
As soon as I landed at the airport I was accosted by about a million auto drivers. I told them all to back off- they are like mosquitoes- always buzzing around your head- I asked a guy who looked local if there was a prepaid stand. He said no, but they all used their meters, so it was hard to get ripped off. Obviously he's never been a white woman traveling alone in India. (Obviously)
I got an auto to the train station- probably paid near the correct amount- give or take 30-40 rupees. I left my backpack at the train station in the "cloak room" aka "left luggage." It cost 20 rupees an hour. In Liverpool I think I paid 2 pounds an hour- translation 40 cents and hour verses 4 dollars an hour.
My same little auto driver tried to take me to sight see- but my Lonely Planet made it look like I could walk to where I wanted to go from the train station. So, after a long conversation of me repeating that I didn't want to go with him and I was walking- off I went- in the wrong direction of course. After another long conversation with four police men they pointed me in the right direction.
I ended up in a market area- so I did what any red blooded American woman would do in my situation- I shopped. Honestly I don't know what gets into me sometimes. Now I have this crap that I'm going to have to lug around the rest of the trip, or send home. I bought a beautiful red dupatta (light shawl) with gold hand work (gold embroidery and sequins) on it for 650 (about $13.00) That fulfils my "Can't leave India without a obscenely sequined piece of material that I'll most likely never use" requirement. But I know it won't stop there. I also bought a tiny traditional Gujarati outfit for Blondi's baby HA! It's super cute! (whopping $3 for that gem) and some cotton suit (shalwar kamis) material for another $3- Two of the venders where Muslim men with excellent English.
One of them gave me his business card all in Gujarati- a language I've never seen before- I didn't even know which way was up on that card- Usually I can at least tell which way is right side up with a language I don't know- but not with Gujarati I'm totally lost.
While I was buying the dupatta I took some pictures of some of the customers in the store- on my way out I was invited to one lady's youngest son's wedding. I took one picture of her- was in the same room with her for 3 minutes and I was invited to her son's wedding.
I'm a novelty- not so many tourists in Ahmedabad. I've seen 4 other white people. I also saw a goat with three legs- so whatever.
Lonely Planet and my new Muslim friends said I should see Jama Masjid- a mosque built in 1432. Unknowingly I walked past it twice thinking it was a veggie market- it wasn't my fault- the minarets fell down1957- how was I supposed to recognize a mosque without minarets. It looked rather shabby from the outside but was very peaceful and beautiful on the inside.
Wide open spaces- freaking hot marble floors (open air court yard) amazing pillars and carved stone window covers.
Then I went to a fancy hotel to get 1. some air conditioning 2. a cold drink and 3. a place to not be stared at like a three headed cow.
The waiter suggested I wear earrings.
I had the "Jain Special." Jains must like tempura- cause that's what it was- deep fried baby corn (baby corn is big here) green pepper rings (Jains don't eat onions) and some kind of freaky little cheesy dough ball which sounds better than it tasted- if you can believe that.
I also got cream float which was yuck and a "mocktail" aka virgin pinacolata- yum. Got me a sammich to go and got back to the train station.
Leaving the area of the train station costs 75 rupees- when we got back here the little guy who took my life in his hands I can't even count the times on the way back to the station- tried to charge me 389.
I said no.
He called over another guy who said, "100."
I said "fine."
So here I am- next leg Udaipur on the overnight train.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
If you read yesterdays blog this is what the Apostle Paul said about the missionary girl who smoked: indirectly-
"The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not, and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does, for God has accepted him. Who are you to judge someone else's servant?"
Romans 14:3-4
I guess that goes for eating, drinking, smoking etc- along with moderation- I can dig it.
"Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But the man who has doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin."
Romans 14:22-23
"The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not, and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does, for God has accepted him. Who are you to judge someone else's servant?"
Romans 14:3-4
I guess that goes for eating, drinking, smoking etc- along with moderation- I can dig it.
"Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But the man who has doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin."
Romans 14:22-23
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I forgot what I was going to write about- now I remember- check it out
I went to a Pashach aka Passover ceremony on- well the day after Passover, but close enough for me.
There was 10 or 12 people there, two Jews, two Christians and a whole passel of agnostics, atheists and other confused people. Sure maybe the Jews and Christians are confused too- but at least we got something.
Top moments of the night:
The Kosher wine was quite nice. Two of the party had recently returned from vacation in Israel.
The Passover meal has much to do with questions and answers. While I did study Jewish scripture, I’ve never studied the traditions; so much of what they had to say was news to me.
Several people were Jew experts out of the blue. It was kind of a strange thing to see. I have often observed that not revealing everything you know or you think you know about a topic is very difficult for many people. Sometimes difficult for me- but I’m pretty good at that “keep it on the inside and lets see what they say” attitude.
Every once in a while the host, who was leading the story/question/discussion part of the dinner, would ask me about a detail in the story- which I would fill in. Eventually someone asked why the host was directing question to me when obviously I was not one of the self appointed experts of Judaism. You know- I wasn’t jumping in and yelling out all the answers.
Jew Expert: Why are you asking her?
Host: She has a Bible degree.
JE: So?
H: So. . . that’s what she studied in college- so she knows the stories
JE: But the Bible is Christian!
H: Uh- The Jewish Bible is in the Bible
JE: It is? I thought the Torah was Jewish
Me: The Torah is the Old Testament
JE: So, you studied the Torah?
Me: Yes
So- for anyone who is confused- Christians call the Torah the Old Testament. The Torah is also known as the Jewish bible. The Christian bible aka “The Bible” includes the Old Testament, aka the Torah, and the New Testament, aka the bit about Jesus.
The other Christian wasn’t taking wine, because as we found out later, she was studying to be a missionary- later she went out for a smoke. Which for some reason I thought was really ironic. She didn’t want to drink wine at a Passover ceremony- but cancer sticks are forever!
Who am I to judge? Doesn’t say anything about smoking in the Bible- so go for it I guess. It does say bunches about wine and drinking it, but don’t drink it- must be evil- I guess. As the apostle Paul said, Well, I can’t remember exactly what he said, I’ll have to look it up- which reminds me-
Someone started talking about the 10 commandments at some point. Then it came up that “love your neighbor as yourself” is one of the 10. Well Educated Boy in the corner, who had already, has his fair share of Kosher and non kosher wine said, “No, it’s not.”
I agreed with him and said, “It’s not.”
The Jew experts (not the actual Jews mind you) insisted it was one of the 10.
WEB: It’s Christian; it’s diametrically opposed to Judaism.
Me: No it isn’t. It is Christian, but it’s not opposed to Judaism.
WEB: Yeah, Jesus said it. It’s in the New Testament.
Me: I know, but he was quoting from the Old Testament
WEB: No he wasn’t
Jew Experts: It’s one of the 10 commandments
WEB and Me: NO! It’s not!
Me: Jesus said, it, and he was quoting from the OT
WEB: Where is it then?
Me: I don’t know the chapter and verse, but I can find it for you.
(Lev 19:18 FYI)
WEB: sure
I’m sure he thought he got the best of me. Then he drank three more bottles of wine and forgot about it.
Another really funny thing was a song they sang- it was like “The Old Woman Who Swallowed the Fly.” But it started with a goat, a cat, a dog, a stick on fire, and ended with the angel of death and the Holy one himself taking part in the fiasco of the lost “kid” which some in the group thought meant a baby goat (as it actually did) and others thought it meant a human “kid.”
It was an interesting in a good way experience- but I chose to leave in the first volley of people leaving. It is possible to have too much of an interesting thing.
I went to a Pashach aka Passover ceremony on- well the day after Passover, but close enough for me.
There was 10 or 12 people there, two Jews, two Christians and a whole passel of agnostics, atheists and other confused people. Sure maybe the Jews and Christians are confused too- but at least we got something.
Top moments of the night:
The Kosher wine was quite nice. Two of the party had recently returned from vacation in Israel.
The Passover meal has much to do with questions and answers. While I did study Jewish scripture, I’ve never studied the traditions; so much of what they had to say was news to me.
Several people were Jew experts out of the blue. It was kind of a strange thing to see. I have often observed that not revealing everything you know or you think you know about a topic is very difficult for many people. Sometimes difficult for me- but I’m pretty good at that “keep it on the inside and lets see what they say” attitude.
Every once in a while the host, who was leading the story/question/discussion part of the dinner, would ask me about a detail in the story- which I would fill in. Eventually someone asked why the host was directing question to me when obviously I was not one of the self appointed experts of Judaism. You know- I wasn’t jumping in and yelling out all the answers.
Jew Expert: Why are you asking her?
Host: She has a Bible degree.
JE: So?
H: So. . . that’s what she studied in college- so she knows the stories
JE: But the Bible is Christian!
H: Uh- The Jewish Bible is in the Bible
JE: It is? I thought the Torah was Jewish
Me: The Torah is the Old Testament
JE: So, you studied the Torah?
Me: Yes
So- for anyone who is confused- Christians call the Torah the Old Testament. The Torah is also known as the Jewish bible. The Christian bible aka “The Bible” includes the Old Testament, aka the Torah, and the New Testament, aka the bit about Jesus.
The other Christian wasn’t taking wine, because as we found out later, she was studying to be a missionary- later she went out for a smoke. Which for some reason I thought was really ironic. She didn’t want to drink wine at a Passover ceremony- but cancer sticks are forever!
Who am I to judge? Doesn’t say anything about smoking in the Bible- so go for it I guess. It does say bunches about wine and drinking it, but don’t drink it- must be evil- I guess. As the apostle Paul said, Well, I can’t remember exactly what he said, I’ll have to look it up- which reminds me-
Someone started talking about the 10 commandments at some point. Then it came up that “love your neighbor as yourself” is one of the 10. Well Educated Boy in the corner, who had already, has his fair share of Kosher and non kosher wine said, “No, it’s not.”
I agreed with him and said, “It’s not.”
The Jew experts (not the actual Jews mind you) insisted it was one of the 10.
WEB: It’s Christian; it’s diametrically opposed to Judaism.
Me: No it isn’t. It is Christian, but it’s not opposed to Judaism.
WEB: Yeah, Jesus said it. It’s in the New Testament.
Me: I know, but he was quoting from the Old Testament
WEB: No he wasn’t
Jew Experts: It’s one of the 10 commandments
WEB and Me: NO! It’s not!
Me: Jesus said, it, and he was quoting from the OT
WEB: Where is it then?
Me: I don’t know the chapter and verse, but I can find it for you.
(Lev 19:18 FYI)
WEB: sure
I’m sure he thought he got the best of me. Then he drank three more bottles of wine and forgot about it.
Another really funny thing was a song they sang- it was like “The Old Woman Who Swallowed the Fly.” But it started with a goat, a cat, a dog, a stick on fire, and ended with the angel of death and the Holy one himself taking part in the fiasco of the lost “kid” which some in the group thought meant a baby goat (as it actually did) and others thought it meant a human “kid.”
It was an interesting in a good way experience- but I chose to leave in the first volley of people leaving. It is possible to have too much of an interesting thing.
Who's counting the days but I have 5 days of work left.
I can't leave India for about three weeks, but only 5 working days- awesome!
I've planned a crazy vacation- not sure if I will be able to pull it all off, but here's the plan:
Ahmadabad
Udiapur
Jaipur
Delhi
Agra
Amritsar
Varanasi
and most likely none of those mean anything to anyone except maybe Delhi right?
Two weeks, 7 cities.
Buzz will stay with the pastor and his wife- and their cats . . . hope that goes well.
I will make an effort to write and post something about the vacation destinations.
I can't leave India for about three weeks, but only 5 working days- awesome!
I've planned a crazy vacation- not sure if I will be able to pull it all off, but here's the plan:
Ahmadabad
Udiapur
Jaipur
Delhi
Agra
Amritsar
Varanasi
and most likely none of those mean anything to anyone except maybe Delhi right?
Two weeks, 7 cities.
Buzz will stay with the pastor and his wife- and their cats . . . hope that goes well.
I will make an effort to write and post something about the vacation destinations.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
I've been delinked!
I guess that means my blog (and therefore I) am/is not interesting enough to be linked.
Well, as it turns out, maybe I'm not- not to the world at large, but the good news is I am still interesting to me.
Things I find interesting about me:
1. I learned how to do a yo (yarn over) knitting stitch today.
2. I kick started my scooter by myself for the first time today.
3. My head was so itchy at 6:45 this morning I had to get up and wash my hair.
4. I learned a "screw worm" is actually a fly today.
See? Interesting! And that's just today!
How dare I be delinked!
I guess that means my blog (and therefore I) am/is not interesting enough to be linked.
Well, as it turns out, maybe I'm not- not to the world at large, but the good news is I am still interesting to me.
Things I find interesting about me:
1. I learned how to do a yo (yarn over) knitting stitch today.
2. I kick started my scooter by myself for the first time today.
3. My head was so itchy at 6:45 this morning I had to get up and wash my hair.
4. I learned a "screw worm" is actually a fly today.
See? Interesting! And that's just today!
How dare I be delinked!
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