India or Indiana?

Tanzania... weird.

2006-05-19T23:39:00.000+03:00

I made it all the way to Kilamajaro, although due to another mix up no one was there to pick me up. It is fitting that my journey home was just a stressful as my journey to India. I've got to say what I saw from the plane Africa looks amazingly green and everyone I've met has been more than nice. I'm excited to venture away from our hotel and see what Tanzania is all about. We start our Safari in two days. So, I'll be posting later rather than sooner.

Oh and for those who understand, I ate cheese.

Dubai....wow

2006-05-18T05:52:00.000+03:00

Dubai contains the most variety of people I've seen in a along time, maybe ever. It is amazing to see many people in such diverse traditional dress. Emirates is also my new favorite airline, hands down. They are partners with SriLanken, for those who have flown them. I ordered some random vegetarian meal, they had something like 6 different veg options. I did this when I bought my ticket and forgot. Well, sure enough they brought me a special veg meal with no egg or milk. I think it was strict Asian Veg. This is coming from flying AirIndia where they ran out of vegetarian meals before finishing the first half of the plane.

/خرث /هىيسشغ

From shit of a day to realizing that I have a great life.

2006-05-17T16:00:00.000+03:00

In brief I lost my ticket for my train from Bejing to Macau, take the next on no big deal. I board and want to start my next sock to realize I have lost a needle and think, ""ticket, needle it could be worse." Then it got worse, my journal... I had left it after ripping a page out to write info about India for a friend on. I went into the bathroom and lost my face, i.e. cried. It not only held thoughts from the past few months, but my lesson plans for the summer and all of my mridagum lessons. Then I realize my train is cutting it close and Ï'm not exactly sure how to cross the border, I know a bus ride is involved. I befriend a person in my cabin who lends me his cell phone, my journal is at the hostel. Although there is no one to call about the border and he has no idea. Well, he ends up calling friends who give me the basics. Our train is an hour late. The bus which was meant to take 1.5hours takes 2.5. When crossing the border into Macau you have to go through customs, twice. Let's just say I miss my flight, it''s there, but I'm not allowed on. I'll just take the next one, which is the next afternoon, 20hours away. I freak out, I am meeting my mom at the airport in Africa. I don't want to just leave her there waiting. I use my credit card to make calls, the only person I talk to live is Jessica Lennard, I am balling. Within a few calls, good old chase turns off my card. I spent the little actual cash I had to buy a coke. It made me feel amazingly better. Then I remembered a phone card we'd had in high school. You would not believe how many of you did not pick up your phone. To say the least I tried 3/4 of the numbers I had, even calling Chicago Shakes. I was a mess.

And you know what? My friends saved me. I mean, I felt so alone, stranded and the next thing I knew Katie and Jessica had talked to my mom and the people in Africa. Turns out by accident my mom and I were flying into different airports. That would have been a shocker arriving in Africa to realize. I am now safe on my way, feeling really great. I can't say enough how much my friends mean to me. To those I didn't reach and weren't part of my superhero team, I promise there will be a next time. Until then, thanks to the people who helped me out more than they'll even know. Just telling me how you were calmed me down more than you believe.

ps. I'm still not sure how to spell doug out in numbers. Ha.
.com

No, I don't think I lost my face, but I did come close

2006-05-14T12:22:00.000+03:00

There is this big thing in China about "losing your face." It's embrassing someone, proving they do not know everything. People do not like to ask for directions or show any weakness, basicly the opposite of India. This is something that took a long time getting used to. It is rude to doubt someone or even suggest they do not know exactly what is going on. Well last night I almost... let's just say my face hopefully will make it all the way to Chicago. Last night I was walking back to my hostel after talking to my mom on the phone and promising I would be safe in Bejing. I got a little turned around and needed to use the restroom badly, it seems like the one time there is no public restroom in sight. So I hope in a cab, logical. I give the guy my map and what should be a 12quai ride, turns into a 30quai ride, I still don't know if he was lost or just taking me for a ride. But I gave him the map and we still went in circles. Then he tells me here, just down that street, takes my money and leaves. I was so mad it had been so expensive I accidently left the map back to my hotel and realized he dropped me somewhere random. It was just one of those days. So I wonder and some things looked familiar; some looked, well not. It was so frustrating, I did make it back okay. It was an early night, today I was going to see the Great Wall. Well, in the middle of the night my alarm fell from my bunk, the battery came out and no alarm went off. I woke up at 6:55, bolted outside and the group had left only 5 minutes prior. Apaprtently if you go by yourself the taxi is almost $100. So instead of doing the one thing I really wanted to do, the reason I came with Katie to Bejing I did something that scared the crap out of me. I rented a bike. It was amazing, the best day I could have had hands down. Since I was up early the streets were crowded with old people on bikes, I followed them to a huge park. There were probably 30 different crowds of people. A lot of them were practicing songs, some reciting poetry; there were old women dancing; people learning to play loads of different instruments. I think it is because the Olympics are coming and China is trying to re-infuse some of it's old culture back in. By 10 the park was empty and I headed to see the Temple of Heaven, but got lost and frustrated. And as I road by Tianamen Square and looked up at Chairman Mao, I decided it was worth getting frustrated and if I just rode then I wouldn't get lost. It was spelndid. Bejing is one of the best cities I have been to. Definately in the top three. So I rode for hours, stopped when I saw interesting things. I even stopped for Sushi for lunch, random. It was a wonderful day and there is still so much of it left.

Happy mother's day to mom and Lez.

And I forgot to mention on a sad note Blind Kitty has left us and is now in Kitty Heaven.

This will be my last post before Africa. Sending my love across the oceans.

Tibet: One mile or Gilligan's Island in the Sky

2006-05-13T10:37:00.000+03:00

Our adventure in Yunan was meant to be slowly making our way further from the tourists and search for some peace and quiet. Well we did find find the middle of no where. We had been staying in a small vilage called Shergu and it was one of those places you dream of staying in. There are no big hotels and only a hand full of guest houses. The stone paved roads wind alng the side of s slight hill. And because it is so tucked away there are still traditions here that have not been erased or forced to change. The people are kind, although taking a photo is not okay. It may capture their soul. This is a good excuse if I ever heard one. We walked not just through the village, but though the fields. The amazing thing is it's all public land, so we could wonder to our heart content.

For some reason we decided this was not enough for us, we wanted to venture farther. This was to a place called Weixi(a mispelling I'm sure) and it was only 80 km away, a simple day trip for 6 excited travelers. So we jumped in a van and were off. We should have known something was wrong when we had to stop and ask for directions within the first five minutes. But the drive was beautiful, along a beautiful, huge, paved road. The hills were amazing and reminded me a lot of Sikkim. I mean, we were again in the foothills of the Himalayas. The drive was not the hour and a half we expected, more like 4. And the "village", was more like a huge city in the middle of no where. But the drive... Our driver came into the resturant and explained, sort of, that we had taken the long way and the way home would be much quicker. Which is nice because it was getting late and the last thing you want to do is lose the light on hilly roads.

The way back was, an adventure. There was not a single paved road and we got lost probably 5 times. In the middle of darkness we would have to back up or turn around on narrow roads with no light. Stopping at the only house we'd seen in an hour to ask which way we should have taken at the fork. Finding out we had taken the wrong on. It seemed to go on for hours, that's mainly because it did. Out 3 hour tour took more like 12 hours. There was more than one time I thought we were going to run out of gas or have to sleep in the middle of the cold wilderness because our driver was tired. Don't get me wrong I like the cold wilderness, but I like it when I have something longsleeved and maybe some close toed shoes.

2006-05-09T20:14:00.000+03:00

If you want to call, then go ahead. We'll be near the phone until thursday.

86-27-6137-8517

Remember there is a 12 or 13 hour difference.

I don't need no stinking comments.

2006-05-03T08:25:00.000+03:00

China, just like everywhere else seems to be full of these crazy contradictions and in this case so much of it is based on the government. This week in China is May break, so everyone has the week off from there jobs. Well, everyone except the people who run the places people go visit. We started our time in Macau, a part of China that missed the cultural revolution and there for feels a little less gray. (Please note at this exact moment "I can show you the world" from Aladdin is playing in the internet cafe, a remix version.) It has the cobbled stone roads and neon signs synonymous with kung fu movies. We spent our day there mostly walking around and adjusting to these unfamiliar surroundings. There are shops with slabs of baked sweet meat on every corner, they are displayed right on the streets under intense lights. Everything is in Cantonease, which can be difficult since in 7 months I couldn't seem to learn to read Hindi. On the other hand I learned the symbol for guest house and which has proved to be helpful. I think if you are trying to learn the basics while traveling being able to learn symbols is easier than trying to learn an alphabet, then the words which the alphabet make up.
Our train ride to Kunming what absolutely crazy. It cost 5x more than any train ride in India and we crossed that country in large chunks. The trains are amazingly nice, like everything here. Rundown is not something China seems to do. The trains(all) are air conditioned. They give you sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. It was the nicest I've slept in months. There is someone who comes around every few hours and empties both of the trashcans in your compartment. There are two curtains on all of the windows, one to shade the sun and one to block out all light. Crazy to say the least.
Kunming what much more high tech than Kate and Duff had expected, but was much more Chinese than Macau. The crowds of people were overwhelming, even coming from India. And here you are expected to bargain for everything, but the prices are gouged much higher than they ever were in India. If something is 300qui here you can offer 30.
Yunnan, specifically Lijang where we are, seems to miraculously missed the cultural revolution, or perhaps was set aside by the government as the part of China that could have culture. And everyone comes here to see "culture". Watching the Chinese on holiday is quite a spectacle. Children are spoiled beyond belief, mainly because they are all only children. Can you imagine what this generation will be like when they get older? Being, sort of, an only child I can say I would not want a nation of only children. But then I think the government may have been genius when making this rule. They want a society that cares only about China, and they are raising people who know only how to think about themselves. Apparently if you have twins you are okay, but if you get pregnant a second time they can force you to have an abortion. If, by some miracle you have a second child, there is a huge fine. Such a controlled society makes me twitchy (So does "Don't cry for me Argentina" which is now playing.). Today we are heading to, hopefully, a more rural town for a few days. Then to Wuhan, from everyone's descriptions sounds like a gray hole. Oh, I am traveling with Kate, Duff and two girls from Mississippi, Megan and Lindsey. Chinese with a southern accent is one of the funniest things I've heard in a long time. They both teach English here as well, but amazingly most of the tourist we've met speak Chinese. I guess you would have to to really do anything in this country. I never really appreciated how many people in India spoke some English. Now we are off. Sending you all love.

Blog, why does China hate you?

2006-05-01T14:46:00.000+03:00

We are unable to see our blogs and hope they are being treated well. China is, pretty much everything I wasn't ready for. I've spent the last few months being overloaded with India and thinking of home, never considering this vast country. It's bizarre because everyone is in western clothes, in mainland China they drive on the right side of the road, the buildings are huge and yet it is the most culture shock I've had since leaving Chicago.

We are now in Yunnan, in Kumming, but shortly we hop on an overnight bus and out of this city. It's bizarre because of everything China has been through "new China" is really new. This major city only 20 years ago was a rural town in the Yunnan Provence. Now it is easily the most crowded feeling city I've been to. It is Spring Festival so no one is at work, but all sharing the sidewalk(!) with us. Today a parade stopped traffic for hours and we headed, obviously, to the pet market. We are talking puppies, kittens, turtle, rabbits, rats, geckos, birds, worms(for feeding), squirrels and I'm sure there is something I'm forgetting. You could wonder the market and pick up what ever you wanted, I almost lost it.

It's crazy going from a country where everyone could do whatever they wanted, businesses where all self owned and culture was celebrated. To this. More to come, once I begin to understand.

China, with a capital C

2006-04-28T12:24:00.000+03:00

So we're in China, and if there's one thing that is certain we are not in India anymore. The building are huge, the people are short and I feel really uncool. Kate and Duff picked us up after an adventure of a plane ride and we are off to Yunan soon. But for now there's a line to use the internet, so catch you all on the flip side.

Love,

The last 12 hours

2006-04-26T17:04:00.000+03:00

It now seems like a mere series of dream adventures, the real world is now about to stare me in the face. There are so many questions which float is my consciousness. How will I teach cherubs enough in 5 weeks? What will I do after that? Is grad school the right choice? Should I mover to Honduras or learn Hindi and return to India? There is no question that I will return here soon. The only question is how soon? And why? I have planted roots in this country and will leave a little of myself behind with the hopes of returning and find what my small seed will sow. I leave behind more friends than I can count and families that have treated me as their own.

Blayne is in the air right now and there is a slight silence where his presence was. I say slight cause the boy was always reading a damn book. I feel lucky to have been able to spend so much time with him, 3 months every day is more hours than I've spent with most people I know. He's a true rockstar. Now we, Katie and I, sit and count down the hours to hop on a plane of our own and leave behind all of this. It's unreal.

I'm not sure what to write so here are the beginnings to some list I've started to keep.

Misconceptions about India from a western perspective or Contridictions.

1. "The caste system rules the country." Not true, it rarely enters into a conversation. People are now held back by their caste, only by their perspective.

2."The caste system no longer exist." It's everywhere, sometimes you just choose to call it by another name. It plays a bigger part in this society than is seen of the surface.

3."India is dirty." People are always cleaning here, the problem is there is no where for all the garbage to go. There are not only pollution control programs for cars and rickshaws, but many states have laws against plastic bags.

4. "India is crowded and over populated." There is more deserted land here than people know what to do with. Villages that are self sufficient are everywhere. It is in the cities that the masses are overwhelming.

5."It's hotter than Hades." We froze in Sikkim and I wore a sweater for my first 4 months.

6. "Everyone is trying to find spiritual enlightenment." People here have a strong faith in something and are shocked that some many foreigners come looking.

7. "You'll turn into sticks and bones." Who ever started this rumor must have missed all the street food and never eaten a roti. The food here is everywhere and rich with flavor and ghee.

I will write more as soon as I step away and really see what's going on. Until then, see you all in China.

Fwd: So much to do, so little time

2006-04-25T16:42:00.000+03:00

You might be asking yourselves what on earth will they do with their last 10 days in India? There is so much to choose from, so many places left unvisited and undiscovered. Well, we just went back to our favorites. Okay, two out of the three, Sikkim just a little too far. Although if Blayne had really had a choice I think we would be in the Himalayas right about now.

We went back to Ahmedabad, I think the best big city in India to do all of our favorite things. You know, drink a good Lassi, walk though amazing markets and of course, have some clothes tailored. The city has all the excitement you could dream or, except being a dry state. The markets seem to go on for days and endless wind you in circles. It's great because the streets are crowded with people, cows and bicycles, but as soon as you enter a shop it all disappears. The best moments are sitting on the floor of a shop with an owner, sipping some chai and talking about the fabrics that surround us. Hand block printed fabric that their family has been making for generations. I will miss the personal interactions you get with everyone here, even if for a brief moment. The markets are amazing in India because they are separate by type of goods. You can be wondering the fabric markets turn a corner and be in the most amazing flower market. People stringing magnolias and creating amazing arrangements. Then again turn the corner and be in the meat market, the stench of raw flesh makes me happy to be a vegetarian. You can find anything at the market in Ahmedabad, if you just look hard enough. We also were lucky enough to have a friend who goes to school in the city, at the hip National Institute of Design. It's were all the young cool art students study and wondering it's campus made me feel at home. At home at least until we walked out of it's gates and ate at an amazing eunuch omelet shop. It's just a small cart, that has fold of tables and chairs which are set up on the side of a fairly busy road. Perfect. We had tasty omelets and some amazing conversation. Between my broken hindi and lacking mudra skills the communication went fairly well. What a life. There was an amazing server who was probably 60, had only one front tooth, but loved sharing his bidis with me. How can you say no to such an amazing man.

Okay, on the flip side of Ahmedabad we headed to Bhuj, in Kutch. How could we come all the way to Gujarat and not see the Ribaris. Our trip was kind of like going home, not only were the people at the hotel happy to have us back, but so was our favorite rickshaw driver. On our last visit we had tea with his family, this time we had the full treatment. His family is a great example of people who are living without structure, but have everything they could dream of. His house is an open courtyard which is partially covered for sleeping by a tarp roof, and a bamboo structure which serves as their only room and additional sleeping space for the 7 people who live there. But this family is rich, the oldest daughter, 19 makes all of their very smart looking kurtas. Each time we have visited we never leave empty handed, they always insist on giving us a pair of earrings or bangles. I have never met a more lovely family. After an early morning tea with his wife, 3 daughters and blind grandmother we agreed to an evening jaunt to the hill garden. This included Blayne getting dressed up in a traditional muslin kurta, with matching pants and small beanie(which fit him like a where's waldo cap). The evening was spent playing on an epic playground, which included lots of equipment I had never played on until now. We watched a puppet show and rode one of those death defying carnival rides that feels like you could fly off at any moment if it weren't for a bolt of two. On our last night they even cooked a huge feast for us, which is a lot to ask for from any family. And they asked for nothing in return, although the oldest girl did make us promise not to forget her. I would never dare.

Now we are back in Bombay and on our way out sooner than I realize. Pure craziness.

--
www.indiaorindiana.blogspot.com

So much to do, so little time

2006-04-24T14:05:00.000+03:00

Now we are back in Bombay and on our way out sooner than I realize. Pure craziness.

Don't be sad

2006-04-21T13:56:00.000+03:00

Okay, so no blog for today. I know, you are all waiting with baited breath. But there are new picture's. Look under Kerala and Sri Lanka for some new pics. Soon, soon, soon.

Love,

Lindsay

Mail me something in China!

2006-04-15T09:42:00.000+03:00

If you're dying to send me a letter,and I know you are I have an address, kind of. You can send it to Kate in China, where I'll be in only 2 weeks, for 2 weeks. So if you do the math it has one month to arrive. Please note this does not mean I'll be home in one month, still another to go. Sending you all love. LT

Kate Riker
International Office
Hubei University of Technology
Wuchang, Wuhan, Hubei
CHINA 430068

All good things come in 3's

2006-04-13T10:27:00.000+03:00

Our last night in Kerela was on of the highlights, something to check off the unspoken list. We went to see Pradeep, my mudras teacher, perform in an all night Katakali performance at a temple near by. We made the trip by bus and filled out stomachs will good food before venturing to the temple. When we arrived at the temple we ran into Vishnu, a boy from Aranmula(where we had been staying), random I know. He seemed to sort of know what was going on an gave us a quick tour. There were Karnatic vocal performers on the stage, people were sleeping everywhere, preparing for the all night ordeal. Then we went into one of the most interesting rooms I've entered in a long time, the Make-up room. A common part of the Katakali performance is that anyone is welcome to watch them come and prepare. It was a sight to been seen as all the performers are crowded around a single hanging exposed bulb. When we arrived at 9:00pm Pradeep was already showing signs of basic make-up as he sat and at his dinner. He would not go on until 2:30am. The actors crowded around this single bulb are applying their own extensive make-up, perfection is the only option. The make-up has all been hand ground and it is applied using small bamboo twigs. It's takes more hours than you'd ever want to think about. On top of that thereis also the Chutti, a paper arc, which is applied above the chin. When we post picture it is the large white thing framing their face. It is hand make for each performer, for each performance. Like a make-up artist in the states, the Chutti guy always has work. Looking at a complete Chutti you would never guess is just plain white paper, the kind your printer takes. And yet the actor must lay on his back white the extensive chutti is applied. It is attached using a paste which is ground it a coconut. Apparently it is not uncommon for the actor just to fall asleep. The amount of detail which goes into every show, no matter how big, is amazing. It's important to step back and remember that this is an offering to the Gods. It's an interesting concept to have this piece of theatre be either an offering from a temple during a festival, or an offering from a family with the hopes of health, prosperity or fertility. . Even if no one is there to watch the performance it always goes on, it is not about the audience, but about the ritual. Imagine if that same sacred feeling was true with all theatre. All of the Katakali performers were me, although there are rumors of women. Pradeep is currently training a girl who is 10. She started when she was 3 and at 5 performed her first Krishna Patanam(a 15 minute performance). As we watched the men layer their costumes it was amazing to see that no corners are ever cut. They wear these amazing puffy skits, that's the technical name. There is first a bum roll added to give it such a drastic shape. Then then use a 5" piece of fabric, tying it at the waist and slowly as they turn they as layers of potato like sacks. First folded into 1/4, then folded into 1/2, forcing the under layer of the skirt to have a dramatic shape. This basic/under dress held more character than any costumes I've seen in ages. Then the drummers on stage played a rhythm calling the first story to the stage and we were off. From 10pm to 6am we enjoyed this spectacle for the Gods. I was fascinated by the precision in which all of the scenes were performer, as well as the indeflatable way the performers played into the night. Each story is made up of only a handful of scenes. There are two vocal performers who are singing in Malayalam(the language of Kerala) and Sanskrit, they are telling the story and the actors using mudras, hand gestures, are acting it out. Pradeep stole the show, he put everything in his heart into the story. From his first moment on stage I was captivated. Katakali performers are training in an excruciating method, which begins from the moment they decided to dedicate their lives. This begins as early as age 7, when they drop out of school and study the art. Training takes a minimum of 8 years. They learn all of the 212 characters and can perform them on a moments notice. Often an actor will show up to a performance and not know who he is playing until he gets there. Most actors I know back home I don't think would really be up for the task. Pradeep performs as it this is his role, as if he plays it every day. It's an interesting thought that these actors never create a role, only fill a spot. They learn each beat for each part, the mudras and facial expressions, but there is never a chance to make a role your own. There is never the opportunity to play with a role, try something new, because the role is only yours for that one day and your scene partner and you exist only in that moment. On one hand I feel like that is real theatre, on the other hand, is it theatre at all?

Now we find our selves back in Bombay, doing our favorite thing to do in Bombay, seeing Shakespeare. This time we went to a performance of A Midsummer's Nights Dream, directed by Tim Supple and sponsored by the British Council. The method and circumstances he used to create it are the exact ones I've been dreaming of. He ran workshops all over India and Sri Lanka and found an amazing group of actors. In total the official languages of Sri Lanka and India are something like 19, and he is using this to his advantage. India is the only place I've been where a movie can be in two languages simultaneously and it works brillantly. Well, he took that and exploded it. All the actors speak in the language they are most comfortable, each already understand the myth they are telling. As I sat in the audience I understood the words in English and some in Hindi, but I understood the feeling of all 9 languages that were spoken during this performance. Not only does he do an phenomenal job with languages, but also with movements. Many of the actors have a strong background in the dance and martial arts of their region and they are blended together in a strong movement style. It was interesting seeing elements of the Kalari we studied in Kerala, mixed in with the dance style of Rajasthan. It is this blend of cultures though myth that I'm most interested in currently.

I bought a pair of jeans!!! I didn't really know I had legs, wow.

Kerala, you have won me over.

2006-04-08T13:02:00.000+03:00

School has come to a conclusion and it's time to move beyond this paradise that is Kerala. Over the past few weeks we have seen the high temperature rise over 5 degrees Celsius, which is crazy. Just sitting at this computer, cooled by the swiveling fan my body is covered by a layer of sweat. A nice thought, I'm sure. It's funny actually how little the heat will bother you if you never enter a air conditioned room. Most of my day is spent in different palm leaf covered pavilions, which allows for the cool breeze to satiate my needs. The school is set in a small village of Aranmula, stereotypical of the lush Keralan landscape. Palm trees are bountiful and flowers seem to spring up in the most unexpected places. The walls are plastered with movie posters, in which the lead man always has a thick, bushy mustache and the female, looking as if she's stepped out of as movie from 1980, with her cropped shirt and high rise jeans. And it not as if there is one poster per movie on each wall, it is usually one poster which will cover the wall twenty times. The same bushy mustache, the same cropped shirt. Kerala is also covered, like most of India, with had painted murals. Here though they are a bit different. Large painting of portraits cover most billboards, optical shops, saree stalls. The people of Kerala also seem to be very politically aware and involved. There was a huge communist movement here, which began with a victory in 1957 and even today there are images of the communist party painted every where, with pride. Last night we wondered down the street to a temple for a local festival, which has blared music the past few days. The performers were people from the village and were the exact inspiration I needed to end my stay here. The lovely gentleman playing the mridagum gave me hope, as I now could watch him play and understand the rhythms.

With my new drum under my are and some mudras(hand movements which are popular in many Indian Dance forms) on the tips of my fingers, I leave this school excited for what it has awoken within me. There are, of course, many courses I want to return to explore, but I am content in the knowledge I leave with. Now we head to Bombay, well first we go to an all night Katakali performance, then a two day train, but then Bombay. Gujarat is also in our future, with the hopes of meeting up with some friends from TLFI.

Can I just take a moment and tell you all about the most amazing experience I had yesterday. I keep saying silly things like, "Maybe I won't get a cell phone when I get back." and "It's nice to not have to talk on the phone." This is all before I received my first unexpected phone call from a friend in 7 months. I was minding my own business, the phone rang and Suemetra, the woman who works here said, "Lindsay, it's for you." There was a short exchange to follow: "Me?" "Yes." "Really?" It was amazing and put me in the best mood, filled with the excitement at the possibility of seeing them soon.

A Normal Day

2006-03-30T09:47:00.000+03:00

Each morning I seem to wake up before my alarm has a chance to disrupt my deep sleep. There is rich, orange light coming through my window, which hits my light up Sai Baba night light just so. And for the first time in my life I can't make myself go back to sleep, I want to get up. The morning greets me kindly as I open the door to porch and allow the light to spill in, the sounds of India are alive in those few brief moments. My balcony over looks at Toddy House, which is sort of like a bar that's made of bamboo. And I swear there are more people there in the mornings than any other time of day. I am then off to breakfast, always one the first for the 8am food rush. When I say "food rush" I mean some nice Nes Cafe, maybe an idly or two, a nice somber and coconut chutney. There is also an obsession with lemon water, which I have become an addict of. The day is broken up of hours chunks, each building within a 5 minute walk, taking away any excuse for a change in schedule. After breakfast I walk down the main road to the school house, where all of my classes are held. I site in the outdoor stage and practice my mridagum for the better part of an hour, just trying to inverate the rhythms into my veins. After a nights rest the beats come easier than the day before, it could be because they seem to haunt me in my dreams. Blayne then comes for his lesson, so I am off the check my e-mail. It's an hour filled with talking to Jessica Lennard on G-Chat, receiving maybe one new e-mail and forgetting to respond to it, looking for jobs, for grad schools, for apartments, hoping someone has updated their blogs and trying to remember why I came to the internet in the first place. As 11 approaches I head back to the school and listen to Blayne finish his lesson, it's sort of cheating so I can know what the next hour will bring me as well. Playing the mridagum is an intoxicating experience, having never really played an instrument before the idea of keeping rhythm is both difficult and thrilling. I find my hands slowly becoming familiar with with rhythms, rather than notes. As the speeds increase you can no longer really think about what you're doing, but are forced let you sub-conscious take control. I end each lesson with my hands throbbing and red, but ususally with a sense of accomplishment. Having conquered the songs from the previous day and begun a new chapter. Lunch is a smaller version of dinner, pared down quantaties of chutneys and sombers. Still the same addictive lemon water, and perhaps a cup of tea. Then back to my mridagum for another hour, by the end of this lesson it feels like my arms are going to fly off at any moment. My teacher is always patient and kind, telling me how well I'm doing and how far I've come. He shows up each day wearing a white lungi and a small leaf tucked behind his right ear. The beautiful leaf comes from the habit of paan, which is served on a leaf with a beetle nut. After class I head straight to my woodcarving class, with one of the kindest men, Sanji. He refers to each of the animals we can see from his class as his friends and can hear the elephants quiet chains before they approach the corner where we can see them as they carry food back to the temple. I have almost completed an elephant, which I will display proudly on my wall. It is a difficult task, woodcarving, there is some much care and attention placed on carving slowing and meticulously. It is done with only a chisel and wooden hammer and the concentration is on taking away the layers of the wood one by one. It's quite a change from my gargoyle which involved power tools and the quick pace Joe forces up on you. Then we take tea and I prepare for Kalari class. Kalari is an ancient Keralan martial art, which is inspired by the movements of animals. The is an emphasis on stamina and building it up. You can do one movement back and forth for 20 minutes, before moving onto the next. Like yoga the movements are specific and your body can receive the most intense workout with the slightest movement. Dinner time is the real feast as we sit at one long wooden table, under a bamboo pavillion. The food is incrediable, as each scoop hits the banana leaf your senses are overwhelmed. There are usually 5 different curries, rice, dal, papad, some fresh vegtables, maybe a nice cucumber yogurt sauce. The mound of food piles up and I find myself eating more than I have in my entire life. You just can't leave such amazing food on your banana leaf. We all eat with out hands, squeezing a bit to perfection before scooping inside your mouth. The spices are rich and layered, a dish can be equally sweet and spicy, perfect. Devon has a lot to live up to. The evening is filled with conversation about class and the upcoming plans for the weekend. Then we usually close the night infront of the television watching a classic Bollywood movie. In there is, of course, two or three showers depending on the heat, some sitar playing and those, oh so much fun, GRE flashcards.

Rinse and repeat if necessary.

Summer Camp, oh wait, I mean India

2006-03-24T10:33:00.000+03:00

I left Sri Lanka on a good note, with only a yearn to see more and travel farther into it's intricate wilds. We did a pretty good job of avoiding the Tigers, civil war and even highly Tsunami destructed areas. In the end I think we may have been too cautious with the potential war areas, considering it felt like everyone we met had either been east and north or were on their way. In the end,unlike traveling through the middle east or somewhere else the US has picked a fight with, the war in Sri Lanka is within it's own boundaries. They have no qualms with me. It was actually weird to be in a county that, while everyone disagrees with the Iraq war, really appreciates not just America but the world. They had this huge catastrophe and the world was there within hours to help them onto their feet, which is more than we can say for Hurricane Katirina. After leaving the comforts of Jack's place we headed south to the beach for one day, the drive was amazing. We drove by villages constructed with only new homes and a sign would say "Brought to you by the Swiss People", these was even a park name Friendship Park, built by the Pakistan Army. And not everything is perfect, next to these beautiful new house, people are still living in wood shacks as they await help. It was amazing to see so many countries names tagged to the building of Sri Lanka. Note: We never say anything donated by the American Government. Although my mom would be happy to know we did pass though several villages sponsored by World Vision. I must admit I used to think it corny to receive a "goat" for Christmas, which was in a World Vision Village somewhere in the world, but now I really understand what that means and it's amazing.

Well, a day before we left Sri Lanka we found out that there was a surprising opening in an art school we had been desperate to attend. The idea being you can study 2 subjects, take yoga and a martial arts class as well. It's been wonderful. I have my own room, I unpacked all my stuff and even decorated. Everything has it's place. I have a balcony. My room could not be more of what I needed. Currently I'm taking woodcarving, my elephant it almost completed. I took a little bit of classical dance, while my other teacher was away. This went better than one who knows my lack of grace would think. It's focused on the eyes and hand gestures, I think I may drop woodcarving and give it a try. I like it because it's 100 percent Indian, unlike woodcarving, which is 100 percent wood and chisels. The most difficult class I'm taking is the Mridagum, a drum. It's my "focus" and absolutely addicting. It's a hard(physically) drum to beat, so my hands are swelling, but it's coming along. I, the beatless wonder, am slowing gaining confidence to whack it will all I've got. Because, like most things, once I stop thinking too much it all works out well.

So that's the short of it. This place sort of feels like summer camp, I mean we go to classes and eat at a long table. There are 18 students, ranging from 19-65 from all over the world. We eat on banana leaves and sing at the table. Last night we even had an amazing evening of Kantra Dancing, which is like Square Dancing. Just like summer camp.

Jesus and Mickey

2006-03-16T14:52:00.000+03:00

Yes, we were asked to paint a mural with Jesus and Mickey Mouse. No, we did not do it.

The orphanage was more amazing than we could have ever hoped for. To begin with it's not an orphanage and they stress that fully. "This is a children's home and these are my children," the Father and his wife would say over and over again. The idea is when a child moves in they are not going to move out. It's actually a beautiful idea, because they are just a big family who will be together forever, or until they grow up and move away from home. Right now it houses 43 children, ages 1-17. Over the past few years they have started receiving private funding which has help make this an amazing place to live. The kids live in house, 10 kids in each house and one "mother". They surround a huge playground, near by is the kitchen and newly build recreation hall. This is where we come in.

There must have been a sale on egg shell paint, because it is everywhere at this place. It doesn't help that Sri Lanka just isn't that colorful, but bland is boring. The Father asked us maybe to paint a mural in the hall, something inspirational. W thought long and hard, after talking to him for a while we decided we wanted to paint a tree in the center having Jesus on one side and Buddha on the other. We are after all in a community which celebrate all religions. Sadly our tree of words was shot down, we clearly did not understand what he wanted. He then asked maybe for Mickey and Jesus... how would a mural like this work we asked our selves? We were told no Buddha because they feared the children would start worshipping other idols, besides Jesus. What about Mickey, is he okay to worship? Well, the father started bring in picture ideas, most of Tweety Bird and The Lion King. Eek. Did I mention how hard it is to get paint with rich, vibrant pigment.

Well, we chose a picture of Simba, in silhouette during sunset. It's not that I'm anti-Disney, but we wanted to just leave a nice mural that could stand alone. Well it worked amazingly well, because the Lion in the animal of Sri Lanka. We added birds and elephants. It was amazing because we chose a simple image which meant we were able to let the kids help up a lot. We painted while they were at school and then they would help once they got home. During the day some of the kids stay home for one reason or another. We had the most amazing autistic boy who latched on to us our first day there. Some of the women who worked there told us that he didn't speak, I think expecting us move on. But I could really talk to any of the kids. He would sit while we painted and sing, he would show us places we had missed and even painted some with us. He was amazing.

We wanted to give something to this community and I'm glad it was the color of a sunset.

Stuck in Sri Lanka

2006-03-14T11:53:00.000+03:00

I know, everyone wants to know about Sri Lanka and here it is. Sri Lanka is magical, a place like none I have visited before. Where to begin?

After our incident with the peeping tom I decided that what I really need was a few days alone in the mountains. So I was off one morning to catch the train... which I missed. I have this habit of not letting people take advantage of me. So I refused to take a rickshaw that was going to over charge me. I knew there was another train, the only problem being I had to change trains at a small station in the country. Well I did, I promptly got on the 12:30 train when it arrived. We pulled about one km from the station when I realized, after making small talk someone selling nuts I realized I was on the wrong train. So in true Sri Lankan style I hopped off the train while it was stopped and followed the tracks back to the station. I get 25 style points for that one. The train rides, like I've said before, are amazing. I would come to Sri Lanka just to ride the trains through out the country, the landscape flying by, my train often above the clouds which lay low in the valley. Arriving in the small town of Ella, without a rickshaw in sight I headed into town on foot.

The town of Ella is set in the hills and made up mostly of small guest houses and family farms. As it poured rain(which was the most amazing feeling) I sort of wondered through the side of this hill trying to find the perfect guest house, that was in my budget of little to nothing. And I did, at the very top with an amazing view. It had a hot shower, a fan, mosquito net. What more could I ask for. After I settled in I went and sat in the little restaurant, which offered amazing views of the valley and Ella's rock and read my book and sipped tea, which had been grown by the family. That night as I had the most amazing home made dinner and drank a beer to celebrate the rain.

My time in Ella only lasted a few days, but I would go back in an instant. The village it's self is filled with small amazing gardens and farms. If you walk 2km in any direction you are without a doubt in the middle of some tea plantation. And it's amazing because you are not a spectacle there, and at the same time the place has no been ruined by tourism. On one of my longer walks I came across a group of women picking tea, just like in the pictures you've seen of Sri Lanka. Well, they stopped me to show me what they had picked and I gave them the water I had on me. It was amazing to see the these old women doing the same job they'd had for years, in the blazing hot sun and their amazingly rough leather skin holding huge similes.

My time alone also through me into the world of solo travelers and made me realize this is a tight knit community. Whenever I'd come across another traveler, they'd always come up and try to make small talk. It's sort of a system of just making sure everyone is doing okay and doesn't need anything. It made me realize how bad my social skills can be, or rather how much worse they've become. I can only talk to someone about nothing for so long. Alas, I digress.

The plan was to meet up with Katie and Blayne and climb Adams peak, a quick 4 hours return trip during the sun rise hour. Delhousie, the town which lays at the base is sort of life an amusement park. The streets are lined with people selling everything, from plastic flowers to large tiger shaped piggy banks. It had been the exact opposite of Ella and when I found Katie and Blayne it appeared the town was slowly sucking their soul away as well. We decided that when we awoke at 2:30 and left for the top of Adam's Peak we would take all our stuff and go down the other side, there were rumors of a path leading to a smaller town.

4800 steps all going up at 3 am isn't exactly my idea of fun, but the sun rise was amazing. It's weird to look back of the last few months and realize how many sun rises I've seen on this side of the world, and some how never being able to fit in a sun rise in Chicago. Sad. South of the sun rising was a beautiful lightening storm, which seemed to envelop that side of the sky and make us a little nervous for our journey down with all of our stuff. Now when I say all of our stuff, I mean some satchels crammed with clothes and sleeping bags.

The journey down the other side was longer and steeper than we could have ever thought. There were three basic choices of variation along the path. One would be concrete steps, not uniform, but not so bad. So old stone steps, probably the steps which lead Buddha to the top of the peak to begin with(only joking). Or rocks. Just rocks, down a steep path. We all sort of cried out for Riley and Dan, hoping to channel their wilderness paramedic skills if we happened to fall. I am proud to say I didn't fall one, quite an accomplishment if you ask me. This journey was a thousand time more beautiful than they way up, and the villages we passed through were breath taking, but it felt nice to sit down and have an amazing pizza that afternoon. We had walked 22km and our guess us 16,000 proper steps, not including rocks. It took my calves a few days to get back to the happy use of the squat toilet, but they are happy once again.

After some advice from Hayden, a fellow traveler, we headed to Katragama, the peace center of Sri Lanka. It boasts to be the only place in Sri Lanka where the religions come together to worship in one place. We were headed to a place called Jack's Place, think commune. It's run by an American, Dee, who is from Cincinnatti and a Sri Lankan, Sylva. It fells like staying at a friends house, we can cook whenever we want. There's a tire swing and a tree house. Last night we spent hours boiling water to fill up the huge stone tub. There is the main building, the house part, then on the back of the property they've started building Kuti's, mud houses/shrines. Each one representing a different religion and completley hand made. It feels like everything we could have ever hoped the farm to be.

We are in the midst of figuring our how we can help the village, which has changed a lot since the tsunami. We have already changed our plane tickets once, so our time is running out. I think we have decided to do some painting in a local orphanage. The kids have new rooms, but the wall are bare. If there is anything I've learned it's a little color goes a long way.

That's the short version of what we've been up to. Oh and I have 3 exciting bit of news.

1. One of my good friend David Chapman was just chosen as a Luce Scholar, to travel to East and South East Asia for a year. I'm must admit to being a little sad that our years couldn't correlate, but alas.

2. Happy birthday to Doug, who is still rocking in NY and guarding his soul the best he can.

3. My sister, Angelica, 7, made her first attempt at running away. My mom is a little scared that we are so similar as children, I'm so proud.

The sights of Sri Lanka or Why it's nothing like India

2006-03-04T10:41:00.000+03:00

We arrived in Colombo 3 days ago after missing a flight, changing a flight and staying in a sleazy airport hotel room infested by gecko, which helped eat all the mosquito's. The terminal was flawless, the most sterile place I've been in months, but stepping into the crowd of rickshaw drivers and taxi-walas made me feel right at home. So we hopped in a bus and we whisked off to the train stations, which seemed to have an endless amount of ques. Each location had a different window and this could prove quite confusing when you don't understand the national language on Sinhalese. But we made it to our train with ease and has the most majestic train ride. The closest reference I can make to the beauty of Sri Lanka is New Zealand. It's like they've somehow taken all of the beauty which can be held in a country the size of India and crammed it into this small island. Our train rolled along the side of green lush hills, over looking valleys covered in clouds. The midst which surrounds the landscape is poetic to say the least.

Arriving in Kandy, on of Sri Lanka largest cities we immediately began to notice we were not in India anymore. Here people walk on sidewalks, obey traffic signals, they even have these crazy pedestrian crossings. There is no litter on the streets, stores have window displays and most things have a fixed price. We luckily met a British girl who lead us to this beautiful Burmese guest house. It's an old monastery, still run by Burmese monks, who couldn't be nice. The hotel is set on a side of a hill, so essentially every room is ground level, but some have better views than others. You can make tea whenever you like and sit in the garden which houses one cat, 2 birds and 4 turtles. The rooms are also dirt cheap and have more character than any I've stayed at in quite a while. Our room is perched at the top of the hill, which is also the old entrance to the monastery.

Okay, so usually I leave out the things that scare me or have scared me, but I'm sort of over this censored view of my blog. So grab a cup of warm cocoa, a stick full of marshmallows and pull up a log next to my campfire. We came in to our hotel last night around 9 pm after having some delicious Chinese food, in an amazingly china themed restaurant. We layed down to go to be, but since we had just had tea we were all a bit restless and Blayne went into the main portion of our hotel to sit on a veranda overlooking the rest of our guest house. I guess I need to give you a clearer picture of our rooms before I move on. The beds are on the opposite wall from the door and there is a window between them. The window has the usual vertical bars and some chicken wire, probably to keep our wild animals. There is a mosquito net hung over each of our beds and the room is pitch black. The only light is coming from the moon through our opened windows which provided an amazing breeze.

Laying under my mosquito net I couldn't take the heat anymore and decided to get out of bed and go sit with Blayne. As I crawled from beneath the mosquito net I stood up and faced the window as I reached down and tried to find my fisherman pants in the dark . As I looked out the window there was an odd shape, had there been a bush I just hadn't noticed? Was there a trick of the light causing an unexplained shadow? No, there was definitely a person crouched inches from me outside our window peeping in. A true 100 percent peeping Tom. As soon as I realized it I stated hitting the window with my fisherman pants, screaming something to the effect of "Get out of here, who do you think you are." Then there's Katie who is trapped half asleep under the mosquito net, with no idea of what is going on. She just starts screaming, like she's being murdered. One of those Alfred Hitchcock sort of high pitch devil screams. Well, this guy about fell backwards on him self and ran off.

I quickly went outside to get Blayne, who had heard the scream but assumed it was not us. Apparently in fear we sound like two Italian/German women. He came into the room and we sort of all took a moment to breath. The major problem being turning in the light gives the intruder exactly what they want, but with the light off it felt like some weird horror movie. We waited a few minutes and Blayne looked out the window again with flashlight in hand, only to find out peeping Tom had returned. He sort of started yelling at him in the amazing old pirate curse voice. It was in his defiance to come back we decided to awake the hotel staff. Who knows how many other rooms he had been peeping in that night. I said bravely I could go alone, but once I got half way down the stairs, which lead to the unlit garden, I decided to go back for a little back up.

We finally made it to the door of our hotel managers, who happen to be Burmese monks. The quickly grabbed flashlights and long sticks, sent us back to our rooms and headed out. Just picture the sight of two monks, with long stick, hunting a prowler. It turns out this is not the first time this guys been around, so hunting him is normal, although they have yet to actually catch him. The important note is we weren't in any real danger, but just a little scared. We then received the most amazing thing, a cell phone with a phone number to call if he comes back. We have the number to a 24-hour super hero monk hot line. Thankfully we have yet to use it, but it has been nice to have around.

On a happy note we spent yesterday at a Elephant Orphanage. We were allowed up close and personal with elephants bathing in the river and eating lunch. I never thought I would touch so many elephants in my life. We even got a few elephants in trouble for playing with us. Pictures to come, no worries. Although I think it will be once we arrive back in India.

Oh, so I want to do a survey if you read my blog. Just send me an e-mail, it doesn't even have to say anything except blog in the title. I'm getting a little lonely for home and it would be nice to know who still reads these. Much Love. LT

Sri Lanka or bust

2006-02-28T08:12:00.000+03:00

Today we go to Sri Lanka.... excitement is in the air.

Yes, today is my birthday

2006-02-22T19:44:00.000+03:00

Sravanabelagola

One of the most amazing parts about traveling throughout India is the variety of sights and experiences, the bi-polar vignette's of everyday life. And a huge part of everyday life is the idea of pilgrimage, no matter what religion you are the are places you need to see. For some it's Mecca, the mouth of the Ganga, Vrindaban, too many to begin naming them all. Near Mysore in the town of Sravanabelagola stands Gomateshvara, a Jain deity, carved into stone standing 17.5m

high. And we happened to visit during a festival which only happens every 12 years where you can climb huge scaffolding and pour water onto his head, which in theory is cleaning the monument. Can you picture the turnout for a festival that only happens every 12 years at a huge pilgrimage sight? It was unreal.

We first had to check our shoes and began the huge accent up 847 hand carved steps.(I counted on the way down for fun.) It was the most people I have seen in a temple yet, and even more people thronging outside waiting for their turn to enter. By this point I kind of just see situations like this as an obstacle I will conquer, because I've learned that hesitation is your greatest enemy in India. We just dove right in the mess of things, weaving our way through/with the crowds of thousands. I thought Jacqui was going to have a breakdown right then a there, it was a lot of people. We finally made it through the cue and were able to be within reaching distance of this amazing idol.

I feel so lucky to be able to visit such sights, knowing that many of the people around me have saved for years to make this journey. And even if I may not be spiritually moved by the image I am witnessing, I am moved by the devotion by the sea of people who have swept me up.

Trekking in Kodagu

After the crowds of Mysore and thousands at the temple we headed towards the mountains, the Western Ghats to be specific. Madikari would be the staring point for a 3 day trek through the Kodagu region of Karnataka. This part of the county is filled not only with beautiful forests, but with coffee and tea plantations to boot. Our trek could not have been more different than Sikkim. For one thing we had to carry our stuff, minus food. We, of course, did not need the layers of Sikkim and wore the same thing everyday. And the mountains here are fathomable, you can reach the top of all of them. We climbed both the first and second highest ones, conquering their peaks. I will not say with easy, but with little to no pain.

I was reminded of my new found love to trekking and thanks to Michael Lennard have set my sights on the Appalachian Train and the 100 mile wilderness. (When your walking you have a lot of time to think and talk and I've decided something very important about my next boyfriend. He will carry the tent. 100 miles is a long way. If only it really was that easy. )

There is an amazing feeling beginning the day looking up a huge mountain and within a few hours standing on it's peak, knowing you had conquered in and could conquer all of it's friends.

Today is my birthday....

So today is my birthday, I don't fault those of you who didn't remember... well I don't fault you much.

I was awoken to the amazing image of Blayne on the sitar and Katie on a drum playing their best version of a happy birthday like toon. In my birthday tiffin, which was decorated with flowers that I later put in my hair, was a special breakfast of fruit loops, sweet bread, pistachios and chocolate. We even had Tropicana oj and mug root beer. It's could not have been more fitting for my India birthday. We then hopped in a bus and went to see my favorite people in the world, the Tibetans at a settlement here in Karnataka. I can't think of a way I would have rather spent my birthday, although the 4 moon does sound kind of nice. I would rate today a 4-star day.

Thanks to everyone for their wishes, I've spent too long writing this blog so I will respond to your e-mails very soon. Oh and pictures are coming, but finding a computer that likes our camera is a slight problem.

Love,

I heart India

2006-02-16T19:35:00.000+03:00

Karnataka... Amazingka

Karnataka might be one of my favorite states, not just in India but the world. The beach was a bit much, relaxation wasn't really my thing, but this state is mind blowing. One day we are at beach and the next day we are surrounded my ancient ruins and palm trees. As if ancient ruins and palm trees aren't enough the landscape includes large boulders, I mean huge, semi truck size boulders.

Hampi has a reputation among the travelers of India as being a place that is easy to get lost in. People frequently go for a few days and stay a month, it's like a drug. You wake up in the morning, have some chai and then wonder. One morning we wondered into a temple and I walked out with a blessing from an elephant. We watched as he blessed people for a rupee, then one kid gave him some bananas and we literally saw the elephant smile. I quickly ran out and bought banana's, on my way back in I got attacked by a monkey for a banana. I just hit it with my bag and didn't blink an eye.

Between Katie and Jacqui the sickness has been running wild through our group. On our last morning in Hampi Blayne, Jacqui and I woke up at 5 and headed out to see the sunrise. The amazing part about Hampi is you can wonder all over the ruins and it feels like you are alone in an abandoned city. The day before while exploring we had spotted a temple on the peak of a hill and picked it for our viewpoint. So we set out with flashlights in hand and climbed broken stairs on the side of the hill, more of an arduous journey than expected. We climbed up some boulders where stairs had once been and we reached the top victorious. As the sun rose it was obvious why this had been the exact place the temple had been erected. There was a 360 degree view of the entire city and the boulders changed a range of colors as the sun breached the horizon. So the three of us there in the peace of the morning. Only disturbed by the pack of Japanese and Korean tourists singing edelweiss. Amazing.

On our way down the hill Blayne spotted a small door and proceeded inside. Though a maze of boulders and darkness we moved with alacrity knowing it was leading somewhere amazing. And sure enough it lead us to a small room,using the word lightly, with one small hole for light. And in the floor was a Shiva Linga, we guessed maybe 1000 years old. It is a shrine hidden beneath boulders, but open to all who dare to find it. Beautiful.

Now we find ourselves in the city of Mysore, a place we may come back to to satiate our desire to learn something. Blayne has purchased a sitar, but I think Katie and I are still a bit lost on what it is we want to be able to take home with us. I would like to learn to play the harmonium, but it may just be a pipe dream.

These past few weeks have been a lot harder than I could have ever expected. I've started to feel like my time in India is almost over and that there is so much left I want to do, but then I remember I will come back. Next time is such a hard concept to really grasp. It's been hard in contrast with Jacqui and Blayne just arriving and wanting them to just adjust. Or half expecting them to show up to India and not be freaked out by all the things which took me by surprise. It's actually shown me how much I've changed and gained control over a lot of things when I look at the way we handle things differently. I can order food from a street vendor when we don't speak the same language and everything will be fine. I don't know where this thought line is going, but I'm sure if was somewhere good.

Things here are going at their own pace and I will let you know as they unfold.

2006-02-08T09:13:00.000+03:00

Life here caught me by surprise and sort of took me on a really weird
ride. Bombay was this amazing city which showed me apart of India I
knew existed, but hadn't really been swept up into. It is this amazing
dichotomy of slums and the richest of India. In northern Bombay it
appeared they were more blended, but as you headed south onto Coloba,
the peninsula, we were surrounded by Mercedes and 1000rp per roll
sushi. The movie theater was just a 10min walk from our hotel, cheap
western clothing another 5 min, a coffee shop, and sailing. It was all
there, and all easy. When I think about my travels in India that's the
last word I would use to describe it.

We spent our days wondering through museums, one of which held an
exhibit about Kutch and it's famous embroidery. It was called
Resurgence, and had asked many artesians from kutch to do narrative
pieces based on the earthquake. As we stood in this museum we
recognized people in the photographs and while we had heard their
stories it was amazing to see them tell the world through hand work.
We hung out with Katie's friend Dhanya, who had been in Kutch making a
documentary. It was nice to wonder the streets with someone who knew
them, spend time in someone's bedroom hanging out and just have a
friend to call. She even hooked up us with a friend of hers who took
us sailing near the India Gate. We saw a view of Bombay few tourists
get.

The evening we Jacqui and Blayne were arriving we decided to kill some
hours by going out into the suburbs of Bombay and seeing Hamlet. In
Hindi. Told through ancient dance and movement styles. Peter Brook
only wishes he could do something so vibrant and innovative. It was
amazing being in the small theatre scene in India, looking at the
people involved and thinking you are basically my friends. In a
country so filled with oral tradition it was interesting to see the
way the next generation is adapting into it's own, while not losing
it's past.

The local trains in Bombay allow you hang out the doors as the train
moves from stop to stop. Not only feeling the most amazing breeze, but
allowing you to see the entirety of the city. There are so many
people. I don't know how to properly describe this phenomenon that
could ever make you understand. For example there are shanty houses
built along the sides of most major roads, where peoples front stoop
is honestly the road it's self. The people who live here are not
homeless, this is important to remember. They have new clothes, food
to eat, many even a television. the problem is there is nowhere else
for them to go. There work is in Bombay, so this is where they are. I
would really be interested to know what is considered poverty here and
what is simply over population.

We picked up Jacqui and Blayne from the airport just pas midnight, but
sadly only 1 of their 3 bags arrived. Like champions we did not let
this hinder anything and made the group decision to leave the bags and
head out of Bombay. Of course the airline people promised they would
be shipped with the next few days, lies lies and more lies. But now
that we finally know where the bags are, almost a week later, everyone
is happy just to know that they are headed back to the states.

We set off for the state of Goa, a must for anyone traveling in India.
Or at least that's what people say. It had all of the luxury's of
Bombay, but none of the culture. I honestly felt like it was the most
white people I had ever seen in my life(clearly not true). We stayed
on the southern most beach of Palolam and met of with Kate, an old
friend of Katie's and her boyfriend Duff. They have spent the last two
years teaching in China and were in India on holiday. So there we were
on a beautiful beach, eating Mexican, a group of six, enjoying
ourselves. I thought I was going to go crazy. The culture shock was
more so than getting off the plane in Delhi and breathing in my first
breath of poo. In the end I survived and left Goa for the more
secluded beaches of Gokarna, a small town in Karnataka. We left our
posh beach huts, with beds and mosquito nets and now find ourselves
sleeping on the ground in a small mud hut with no windows. It's
perfect. Well, now I'm off to go hop in the ocean and maybe play with
a kitten or two. That's about as much luxury as a girl can handle.

2006-01-30T15:24:00.000+03:00

So I'd been going through the 4 month slump of the trip. I had the most amazing experience in Gujarat, but for some reason could only sit down and write a little. I think things were just becoming so normal, as much as they could, that my system sort of shut down. While I spent my days observing everything and loving each moment, I spent my nights submerged in a book and thinking myself in circles about the future. This is what I'm best at.

So I wanted to give a few more adventures from Gujarat, before I close off that point in my life.

Our host needs a night off

Our final night at Hotel Annapurna opened our eyes to the life our our host Vinod. Our hotel had been owned by two brothers, they shared everything, not just a family business but their home as well. After the earth quake of 2001 something changed in their relationship, Vinod didn't tell us but you could sense the tension between them. They split the business, one brother running the hotel and the other running the resturant. They also split the household, Vinod now building a house on the outskirts of town. In India it feels like building a house is a huge thing, but when an earthquake destroys most buildings it is your only option. So now Vinod, who is in his late 50's is currently in debt to the back and kept repeating to us that his life is a tragedy. Not only is he not currently doing financially well, not only is his relationship with his family weakening, but both of his children are sick. His daughter has a genetic disease which not only limits her physically, but mental. His son while suffering from severe panic attacks, also seems to be deathly allergic to most things. In India is this a huge deal, it took almost 10 years to diagnose. The idea of savings is still a new system and just like in America the common person here is in debt. The future for most families in India is completely dependent on the family, you spend your life working as hard as you can so you can take care of your parents and children, but what happens when they can't take care of you?

Textiles are dying

Ahmendabad is home to the Calico Museum, one of the worlds leading textile museums. You can only enter twice a day on guided tours, which require you to check all you bags and I think your passport. The morning tour is on traditional clothing and the afternoon is on religious textiles. Katie and I knew we could not miss this experience, so early one morning we were one our way. The museum campus is under strict lock and key, we were escorted everywhere we went even before the tour began. The craziest textile women you can imagine lead us through a maze of carefully preserved clothing from all over India. We observed not on interesting cuts and shapes of clothing, but exotic weaves and embroidery. According to her everything good in the world of textiles began in India and probably in Gujarat. Most of the cloth used to wrap mummy's, from India. She would show us these amazing embroidered textiles and then tell us about how there is only one family in the world left doing them and when they die, so does the embroidery. Most of the types she was talking about are based out of Kutch and we were lucky enough to visit some of these families up close. In Bhojodi there was a family of weavers producing some of the most amazing hand woven scarves. Their looms sitting outside under palm covered roofs. Of course when I and she says family it's not just mom and dad, but the entire extended family. And there are lots of NGO's which are trying to help preserve these ancient ways. But when does the point come to succombing to the fact that a machine is easier, cheaper and faster? Is it fair to ask them to continue living and dying in tradition, when we have all given into the future?

Bombay

We arrived this morning on a over night bus and I must admit to the culture shock I am currently feeling. I am no longer affect by beggers or by shanti towns, but this whole rich things is throwing me out of wack. You can go into stores, there are window displays, revloving doors. I just don't know what to do about it all. Luckily Spence and Blayne will be here before we know it and we'll be out of this hell hole of comfort, comfort, comfort.

2006-01-29T08:44:00.000+03:00

I Heart Kutch

Kutch is one of the most interesting and beautiful places I believe the world can offer. No, the forts and palaces don't match up to that of Rajasthan and the nature holds nothings in comparison to the north, but the people here are amazing. I do not use this word lightly, even though I know I use it often. Last time Katie was in Kutch she befriended a Ribari guide name Pababhi, he would be the leader of our magical journey.

Bhuj, a normal day

Bhuj, the main city in Kutch and our home, has been a sea of people from all walks of life and traditions. In the morning one can visit the used saree market and pillage your way through endless piles of material, until finding the perfect piece.(And when they see you wearing a saree you bargained hard for the women really love it. The best being a girl of about twelve clasping her thumbs and index finger, as if to signal okay and repeatedly saying, "Ahchee, Ahchee.") Next comes the endless, but exhilarating, bargaining that must occur in a language you don't really understand. Then to the omelet shop run by the nicest Muslim family you could hope for. Then a stroll through the winding market roads, many of the lanes are still filled with ruble from the earth quake which devastated this area in 2001. Stopping for a few moments in a embroidery shop or perhaps in a small jewelry shop on a side street run by the oldest kindest man.

One day we did just this and spent a while looking through piles of old tribal jewelry, then strangely as he was sitting with us he turned his back and we started to hear the shrieks of a small girls. Today was the day she was going to have her nose pierced, I think she may have found out the same time we did. I almost passed out as she cried, but then again I remember not wanting my second hole, trying to convince my mother that just one piercing on the left side would be okay. Next was the bravest girl, who literally bit her lip during the pain, a small tear rolled down her cheek, but a whimper was never to heard. I took this for a sign that if they could do it so could I. So, now I sit here with a hoop through my nose and a smile on my face. And don't worry, I will soon be trading up for a nice gold sun burst.

Tradition in transition

We spent two days just with Ribari's, by chance Katie befriended the only true Ribari guide and then he offered to give us a tour for free. (For those of you who don't know the details about tribes in India the Ribari's are not just found in Kutch, but all over the country.) It's amazing because they wear these completely traditional clothes, live in traditional houses and yet are completely aware of the rest of the world. It's amazing because I think after Tekra I had this mentality that all village life would be the same mentality of women covering their faces, marrying at 14 and that the rest of the world just didn't exist. These preconceived notions couldn't be more untrue here. While marriages are still arranged within the first few years of life, people aren't married until 25 or 30. And it's 5 years from that date until you actually live with your spouse. Craziness. These traditions vary from caste to caste and family to family. Pababhi actually went against his families wishes and had a love marriage, a crazy thought.

The experience of those few days was more than you could dream of. We were treated as guests, instead of tourists. We slept at Paba's house, meet his family and friends. And not one person tried to sell us anything(This is huge.)

True story: You're a Gypsy

Paba helped found a school in 1993 for specifically Ribari children, not in a segregated way, but in the only way they can be educated. Many of the Ribari's are still nomadic, moving every day with the sheeps and goats. When we were out one day we were lucky enough to see a family in a field not far from the road. We greeted them with the traditional, "Ram, Ram," and were invited to see they way the live. Each family typically has one camel, which will carry all of their belongings each day. It is a simple life to say the least, a few tarps, some amazingly embroidered blankets, a cot or two. The men usually leave first moving with the animals, leaving the women to pack up and journey to the next spot, which can be up to 15km away. Often they will travel with more than one family, as this is safer for everyone. As we walked back to the car we were lucky enough to come across a few women on the move. They leading the camels, while the small children and animals say perched on top of the camel.

Because of this lifestyle it is easy to see how education can be close to impossible. Thus a Ribari school was created, much like a boarding school. Except the school will give money to the families to send their children each year.

Okay, now we are off to Bombay... Krishna, I'm scared. (Krishna, get it?? Oh, never mind.) Well there are some new photos, but they're not all there or perfect, but they give the right idea. Oh and Jacqui and Blayne are coming in 5 days! Craziness. Don't tell them , but I'm really excited/nervous/excited. I am of course missing everyone else and don't worry more postcards to come. Gujarat while home of the bad chai, is not home of the postcard.

2006-01-20T17:12:00.000+03:00

I spent so long planning my adventure to India that I never really considered the consequences of actually coming. I never expected to be so involved in the culture that I would consider myself part of the "we." But here everyone is one being, you are your neighbors beginning, middle and end. I didn't expect to fall in love with kids that would go on to haunt my every thought. In the end India has taken me by surprise, which has been really refreshing.

It took me more effort than I expected to rouse the traveling part of me again, and I'm not sure it will ever come back fully. We went to Udiapur, which was beautiful, but the tourist part of Rajasthan does the most amazing job of exploiting both culture and tradition so much that most tourists I met were offended by it.

Katie and I then decided to head towards Gujarat, first visiting Dwarka, a Hindu pilgrimage sight. I think I forgot this meant temples, temples and more temples. The best part of this stop was that it was on the sea and for sunset we would go sit on the rocks watching the sea turtles and dolphins swimming gracefully in the waters. That was spiritual part of the journey for me. We then headed along the coast for the island of Dui, the most bizarre part of India thus far. Mainly because it felt like we were in the Keys and no where near the subcontinent. Well the keys is the beaches were deserted, the beer was cheap and the signs were in Hindi. Close enough.

Then Ahmendebad, I know I'm moving quickly here. Expecting it to be like every other city, I was shocked to fall quickly in love. The first night we decided to attend a "cultural program" offered that evening by the city in celebration of the kite festival and in celebration of Gujarat. Somehow we were whisked off to the very front of the program and seated in the kiters sections, clearly reserved for the International Kite flyers and not us, but we weren't about to raise a fuss. The program lasted 4 hours and was filled with amazing costumes, loads of dancing and Gujarati, a language I am still attempting to begin to understand. The city has the most interesting self contained neighborhoods, called pols, which are small capsules built within a large infrastructure. And the market is a maze of beauty, selling anything and everything one can dream of. I am excited to return to the city soon.

Now we are in Kutch, on of my new favorite place. Bhuj is an amazing mixture of traditional and modern, flowing together as a whole. We have been to visit only one of the villages, but tomorrow are headed out with a guide. I will write more on this paradise soon. Don't you worry

2006-01-15T12:06:00.000+03:00

Hut to Hut

One of the most valuable things we were able to do while in Tekra was split into teams and do our best to visit each and every house in the village. Vinod, Swati and I, making the perfect team, began in the Muslim colony on the far outskirts of Tekra. This was one of the most inviting sections of the village. While, like many parts of the village, we were invited into most houses for tea the people here listened to what we had to say. We focused our efforts on spreading information on female education at all levels, as well as stressing the importance for everyone of finishing school through the age of 18. My guess would be that 1 in 200 students will finish school. This is not to say these are uneducated people, but formal schooling is just not a part of every day life. Our first day felt like a success, but there would be many more walks around the village to fill our limited time here.

The second day seemed to be filled with people wanting to know more about us, than what we wanted to speak about. This day when asked where we were staying the moment I would say Ram Chander Leheer people would simply say Namaste and walk away. This was because I was an untouchable. The Rajput's(a caste, decedents from Rajasthan nobility), who's area we covered that day, are very particular about the caste system. And while many are not educated past class five they can tell you exactly how they are related to Rajasthani nobility. Becoming more than upset by the gates which were not opened to allow us inside we decided to try the far end of the village and we could see a single house standing apart from the others. As we walked we were stopped more than once by people warning us that we did not want to go there. This, of course, made our desire to venture even stronger.

You are not untouchable

As we arrived to the gate of the small quaint house we could see a glimpse of the family. They greeted us at the gate, but said we should not enter. The situation here is completely different, they were trying to protect us from them. We came to find out we were at the home of the cobbler's family, the lowest of the low in the caste system. They are in charge of collecting the dead animals of the village, eating the meat and using the hide for cobbler like things. We convinced them to let us in. We found out what we thought was an entire family was merely a collection of siblings, none of whom had ever attended school. They saw no purpose, they knew their place in society. Amongst them was a small girl, probably 6, who had been bad burned on the right side of her body. She was missing lost of her hair and had an almost none existent ear and badly disfigured hand. She hide behind her sister, but eventually came out of hiding. I showed her a similar place on my head where I'm missing a clump of hair and gave the motion that everything is okay. This little girl was one of the most beautiful I've come across. As we left there house it felt like another failure, to go along with our day. That night we were asked by our host family if it was true that we had visited the house of the cobblers. It hadn't occurred to me that my presence in the cobbler home could affect the family I currently lived with. But word had traveled the village and over dinner we told them the truth, luckily they were not upset, just asked to keep them posted on where we were going. Then the most amazing thing happen, 3 of the cobbler's kids started coming to my school. I'll never forget the feeling of them walking through the door and knowing something had gone right.

A 6"Christmas Tree

Christmas in the desert was one of the most interesting thus far in my short life. I only because most of Christmas day I honestly forgot it was even December. Our Christmas celebration began on the eve and was about 12 strong. While there were only 5 volunteers who celebrated Christmas, this was actually more of a celebration of friendship. There was an amazing 6" tall tree, with ornaments and all. As well as the most amazing gift of a Chocolate cake, which actually tasted like chocolate from back home, a very rare and special treat. I sang every Christmas song I could remember, although dreaming of a white Christmas in a desert of sand in a new experience. We even went one by one and said all the things we were grateful for. The presents were limited but I did get a nice note book and pen from TLFI and some bindi's from Alida and Katja. In the end it was actually amazing to be spending Christmas with people I considered my friends after so many months of meeting people, then moving to the next place with new people. Christmas dinner consisted of all the volunteers traveling from all the other villages. We sat eating 4 to a plate, my new favorite style of eating, and just having a gem of a time. I will miss this next Christmas.

You are beautiful

Asha my host sister is the striking image which brings me to tears even now in the dingy Internet cafe. She held in her all the possibilities of the world, but reality sets in and will always make me wonder if she made a choice for a different life. Is she happy? Safe? A few days before I left I decided to teach her a new word, the word beautiful. Already fluent in the idea that Asha is fine, Aha is happy, Asha in good. I wanted her to know, Asha is beautiful. After explaining it the best I could in my broken Hindi, do you want to know the first thing she did? She asked, "Beautiful opposite?" I told here ugly and spent the next few minutes chasing around Choka Ram calling him ugly. At that moment I knew my work here was done. She understood.

Touch

Leaving was difficult and I think you all can imagine the tears that were running down my face. As I exited the school for the last time I stood with a crowd of kids around me, frightening similar to the first day. But the first day I was coming to school and was accosted by kids, this day I was leaving my students. I asked them to pose for me and as I clicked a photo in the viewfinder I could see the photo which I know will always bring back more memories than can be held in a thousand word. This was the moment I realized it was all over and now all I had was a photo. At that moment Santosh came and touched my foot, then another and before I realized what was going on I was being rushed at by my students. This is the highest form of respect and all they could offer me for what I had given them. Walking away from the school for the last time broke my heart into pieces and I know somewhere in the sand a piece of it is still there.

2006-01-06T17:36:00.000+03:00

Tekra Primary Government School

200 students, one teacher and no learning. This is what I faced my first day as I walked to path to my first black board. It is one of the scariest experiences of walking to the front of a class room turning to face a room with so many young faces and suddenly realize all those people you were afraid of falling are sitting just in front of you. The school is a series of three rooms which merely open outside. There are no table or chairs, the student arrange long mats in front of the blackboard, boys in the back and girls in the front. Each student has some lined note books, but chalk and a small chalk board are prevalent. The notebooks and stationary provided by the government are rumored to be sold off by the teacher long before the students ever see them. The "teacher" was there maybe 5 days the entire time I was at the school. I was there partially during the regular school year and partially during winter break. This also allowed me to be present for the half yearly exams, conducted by the government. You would think in a school where learning is a minimum the teacher would be slightly worried, but there is no reason if you write each and every answer on the blackboard during the exams.

They can learn.

My teaching partner and I were not on the best of terms. I find that I am usually a pleasant person, I try my hardest to please people. I'm coming to terms with the fact that I want people to like me and sometimes I try to hard to make this happen. She, Shweta, made me want to pull my hair out in clumps. Hoping the pain would make me forget that I would have to teach with her again. There was the day she told me the kids in classes 1-3 couldn't learn, "they aren't worth teaching". My argument was were are here to teach all these kids, not just the kids who learn easily. And honestly, there has to be a way to teach ABC's, it's done every day. There is also the day we split this same age group into two classes, once I realized I could teach better not speaking the language than I could with her. Half way through the class she brought 10 of her students to me saying I should teach them because they didn't understand her language. Let me point out she is from Rajasthan. If Alida and Katja, the documentations, hadn't been present at that moment I would think I was just making all this up.

Santosh, Santosh, Santosh

Our school was amazing in the sense that it contained my girls than boys, this only happen in primary schools here. Girls are lucky to make it beyond class 5. I was blessed with the most amazing group of kids a teacher could every have. Not to say that a boy name Pero Singh didn't make me want to use the stick I had seen their normal teacher carry around, but when you have a student comes to class every other day and spends his day off from learning banging on the windows of the class... you just go a little crazy.

I was lucky the sense of having caught all of these kids at an age when gender didn't really matter. I heard horror stories from other school's where the 1% of girls lucky enough to be in school never spoke a word. The girls in my classes were firecrackers, you could see that gleam in their eyes that they really wanted to not only learn but impress me. As a whole the girls were the group we saw the most improvement with on all levels. They not only went home a studied, but they asked questions and always wanted to know more. It makes me a little sick to think that most of them will never see the inside of another class room.

I am fine

The students were intoxicating. They were heartbreaking. They now haunt my every thought, every breathe, it's takes more than I can describe to not get on a bus and find my way back. I do know that I did my best for them and that if I went back I wouldn't be able to surpress any of the anxiety I have about having left them. They will grow up, life will happen to them, I can only hope I gave them some hope to change.
I spent the first week trying to realize why on earth we were teaching kids in the desert English. This was not the skill they need to learn, the kids at my school could have used the tutoring in Hindi or math. Then I had this crazy realization that while I was there to teach English, that was our module, this was not the purpose of our presence in the village. We were the to inspire these kids, to tell them all the possibilities of the world and the possibilities within there village. I was there to bring back their excitement for learning, to infect them with the desire to learn as much as they could. We were also there not just for the education of the English language, but to educate them about humanity. That boys and girls are equal, that women can earn and not just reproduce; that a child should be special, not just another mouth to feed and pair of hand to work; and that while their families make all the choices for their future they can help the future of their children. The last idea comes into play especially with girls who are being married off at 14 and 15, begging us to convince their parents not to allow this to happen. We can try and did, but 3 weeks can't change an entire village. And in the end the best answer we could give was that when it comes time for these girls to marry off their own children think back to this very moment and change the future.

We were not here to teach English, but to teach people about choices. Every basic English teacher teaches:"How are you?""I am fine."

In my class I taught:

I am fine.

I am happy.

I am sad.

I am hungry.

I am mad.

I am confused.

I am okay.

2006-01-03T13:07:00.000+03:00

The only logical way I can figure out how to even begin to describe this experience in words is to tell it in short vignettes.

I'll be honest that I had no idea what I was getting myself into, these are always the most amazing adventures life can bring. Calling the past few weeks an adventure does not feel like the appropriate word, but here I am at a loss for words which could describe this magically heartbreaking experience.

Without a leader I would be lost

The leader of TLFI was Jitu-bos, rather Jitendra Singh Jaitawat. I would trust this man with my life. While I say man he is only 22 and preparing to graduate for engineering school, but his presence is much older. Not just older, but wiser than most people I have met in my life. It was the village of his family were I was placed and I think knowing that I was working to better the life of people who gave this amazing person life made me even more infected with the desire to my giving everything to them.

Family is family

The Leeher family was hosting my stay in Tekra and could not have been a better fit for me. Our father was a school teacher in a nearby village and a very educated man. Often in the villages the money made working is wasted away on drugs and alcohol. This was not the case in our family, somehow the idea of savings existed. Our house had 3 rooms and a kitchen. Each room is a common room until the night time when the cots are unstacked and blankets passed out. There was also a shop in the front of the house from which the family sold everything from bindis to flip-flops. There were 5 amazing children ranging in age from 5-13. Asha, the eldest, was also the only girl. She has stolen a piece of my heart. Quiet and hardworking she is lucky enough to be studying in class 7, this is a huge thing for girls in the village. We had a proper toilet, a water tank and even a color television, the only one I know of that existed in the village. If you think tv's are a big problem in cities a television in the desert would make you crazy. Thank god for power cuts is all I can really think. It could be 6 in the morning and the kids would have the tv on. Besides having beautiful kids the family also contained nanee, the most fragile looking grandmother I have ever laid eyes on. My host mother told me Nanee had come 16 years ago to die with her family and is in almost the same condition today. So this is my family, my house and my paradise. Did I mention we were untouchables?

My walk to school

From my house to school was 15 minutes, the best 15 minutes of my day. After taking breakfast sitting next to the first with my host mother I would begin my walk alone. The walk down the dirt path lead me straight through Tekra, a village comprised mostly of mud huts with thatched roofs. I always passed more kids than I can describe, many of whom did not attend my school. There were 2 other schools in Tekra one private and one upper primary public school. It was actually though these kids that I was able to gage just how much of an impact we were having in the village. My first few days I would be surrounded on my walk by kids giving me the simple Namaskar and trying to communicate with me in Hindi. My second week I was surrounded by kids who were dying to communicate with me the new English other volunteers had taught them. I think ever kid in the village knows not only my name, but my father's, mother's, sister's and brother's as well. It is rumored that if we came back to Tekra in 10 years we will find loads of kids with the western influenced name. My third week of school was the most comforting, I was no longer a spectacle. I interacted more with the women along my journey and often was invited inside for chai. And one day I decided to accept.

I can't speak, but I understand

My first visit inside one of the village homes alone could not have gone more smoothly. It began with a morning walk about an hour before school, I simply wanted to see more of the village. I then stopped and talked with a group of kids, and by talked I mean shared our 30 words we have in common. It was amazing to be teaching the kids English and asking them to teach me Hindi. Luckily I have a small Hindi phrase book which I became famous for. One of the boys invited me to his house and I gladly accepted. As I entered the gates I was greeted by his mother, sister, brother and neighbor. This is where communication becomes even more tricky. I have a Hindi phrase book, the son knows the smallest bit of English and some Hindi learned in school, but his mother speaks only Marwhali. But I sat in the kitchen with them for close to the hour taking chai and somehow managing to communicate. I know at the beginning of my stay here I would have thought this impossible, but two weeks in made me realize language can only hinder specifics and communication isn't just verbal.

2006-01-01T12:20:00.000+03:00

"Yesterday I got back from spending a month living in the Thar Desert, living in a crazy village, teaching English and learning about the caste system first hand. In a town of 200 houses/huts we had 200 camels. I was living with an family of the untouchable caste, therefore making me the same. It was life changing and heart breaking. Leaving was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Looking into the eyes of many of my students and knowing how hard there life would soon become. Girls are married off around 14, 17 is considered too old. Boys, who are the most educated are lucky to make it to class 8."

That's the summary I gave in an e-mail and will be the tip of the iceburg as far as my blog is concerned.

I arrived back yesterday, celebrated new years with new friends and while I want to look ahead for new adventures my heart and thoughts are in my village of Tekra.

More to come...

Happy Holidays

2005-12-09T11:37:00.000+03:00

I am hoping to post again before I'm off to the desert. But if not I
still want you all to be able to mail me a Holiday card with a picture
of you or us or some random guy walking down the street.

Lindsay THEO(underlined)
Poste Restante, GPO
Jaipur, 302001
India

I will be back on the 1st and don't know how long I'll be there. So
hurry up and write that letter.

Love,
LT

--
www.indiaorindiana.blogspot.com

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright Deep in the Heart of India or Yes, I Still Want My Own Camel

2005-12-06T18:54:00.000+03:00

Jaisalmer, home of the Camel Safari. And when I say camel safari I
mean pony ride in the desert... kind of. We arrived in Jaisalmer not
really knowing what to expect, but hoping for the best after a
wonderful last day in Jodhpur. What more could we ask for than bangle
makers and Harry Potter in Hindi? Arriving from a night train at 5 in
the morning gave us a wonderful peak at this amazing fort we were
staying in. The streets winding like a maze and the sandstone covering
every surface. As I sat on our roof and watched the sun rise over the
desert I was glad to be in a town of only 80,000.
My glaze of the town beauty quickly died as we stepped into the street
to find breakfast. Yes, the streets are winding and small. This we
found our was to help trap you and force you to come into the many
shops that covered these small streets. We indeed were back in tourist
hell. The sold patchwork quilts, nice right? No, these had been over
dyed every color and many held weird patches, my favorite being FUBU.
They did sell amazing journal / handmade books, but once you show any
interest they will never let you go. We were back to being the biggest
dollar sign and hated it. And everyone here was selling a camel
safari. You would sit down for chai and the guy behind you would
strike up what felt like an innocent conversation and then BAM, "Would
you like a to go on a camel safari?" We would go to use the internet,
camel safari. Dinner, camel safari. Lassi, camel safari. And the sad
thing was I did want to go on a camel safari.
Since arriving in India I developed this policy which is serving me
well. If someone actively tries to sell me something, like a camel
safari, I will not buy. Because I know there is always only 50m away
with the same product that will no hassle me at all. I want them to
have my business. So after visiting a few safari places we found
Ganesh Travel, which is wholly owned by camel drivers.(The name is
funny because most of the camel drivers are muslim.) It was a little
more expensive than the others, but there is something nice dealing
with the people who are taking you out. And knowing since they own it
they will get the money they need to do it right, without cutting
promised corners.
I, shockingly, had the best camel of them all. Michael. He was 8years
old and a father of one. (I desperately wanted this punk rock camel
name Laloo who had 6 nose rings and was strikingly beautiful, if any
camel ever was.) Michael was a shanti camel who always liked to be the
first one up and on the way. Plus he always knew the way. The ground
we covered wasn't what I expected, although I didn't really know what
to expect. This was, after all, my first real time in the desert. I
was mainly surprised by the growth, not just of shrubs but healthy
large trees. And there wasn't a lack of sand, but rather an abundance
of burs which covered the sand.
Our first day we spent with a large group of 5 other tourists, this
really made the experience feel like what it was, touristy. But a
night under the stars can honestly solve most problems. The land is so
flat if felt like we could see the curve of the earth. I didn't know
the sky was so large. And waking up in the middle of the night to find
yourself in complete silence with all the stars in the world, just
doesn't feel real.
Our second and third days were a vast improvement. Just Katie, I and
Raju, the camel man. Hours would fly as we all sat perched on these
camel completely zoned out. It felt like the best meditation I've had
in a while. It really gave me time to ponder everything. Why a came to
India. Grad school. My family and friends. What I want to do when I
get back. Good thinking time.
Arriving back in Jaisalmer was of course a nightmare after so much
peace and quiet. But a night train, switching to a morning train has
put us now in Jaipur. Here is where Katie and I are parting ways for a
while, craziness. I am excited to move to this small village and teach
kids English. I'm excited and scared. A good combination I know.

I'm looking to buy a camel.

2005-12-01T12:47:00.000+03:00

Rajastan is a place like no other I have ever seen. I like to think of
it as a place both dreams and nightmares are made of. I forgot while
traveling in the magical land of Sikkim that India is a mix of the
best and worst day of your life. That each day is harder than the
previous, but also more breath taking.

Arriving in Jodhpur 8 hours late didn't help, but the city was
beautiful. Staying in a guest house which has been in existence
architecturally for 500 years is stunning. Jodhpur is the blue city
you see when flipping through picture books of India, blue being the
color of Brahamin. Today everyone paints their home and business blue,
in contrast with the warmth of the desert it is like a mirage.

Our first night was spent wondering, making turns leading down curious
alleys. Following the music of horns and drums, which lead to wedding
processions. That night we wondered into probably 8 wedding
processions and from our roof could see at least a dozen. We were even
pulled into on to dance, and dance we did. Everyone in the procession
seems happy and excited, everyone except the groom riding the
decorated horse. Then you suddenly remember this marriage is arranged
and he is on his way to his new life. A life he doesn't know at all.

The fort here is amazing, but honestly felt like just another huge
fort. The best part of our adventure was wondering through the bazaar,
once we found the non tourist version. There we found people making
bangles and shoes, people selling chai for 3rs instead of 10. And it
was nice to be in a place where you are not the target shopper.

More to come, but now we are in Jailsmer and trying to find a camel
trek. Picture that, me on a camel.

2005-11-28T19:39:00.000+03:00

48 hours on a train. Do I really need to say a lot more? Leaving Darjeeling was really weird. It just didn't feel right leaving without Rafi, who would make us stop for chai? Who would translate when people walk up to me and start speaking Hebrew? We've known Rafi for 6 weeks and only been in India for 8. Plus he's freaking amazing, no joke. He carved us spoons, honestly does life get better than your own hand carved spoon? Well, there is a kite festival in January so who know when we'll meet again.

A train ride where you begin in the mountains and end in the desert is something that should only happen in the movies. Mainly because then they would only be a 2 minute montage. This was our most feared train ride so far. One night through Bihar, then all day, then another evening just past Agra. This was hands down our best train ride. No one asked about our husbands or offered to become one. We shared a compartment with a mother and daughter, and a married couple from the middle of the desert. Our train never became over crowded and always had really high spirits. This is due to the fact that a group of 70 occupied the rest of the car. They were on their way to wedding. A detail we discovered a little to late to try to get an invite.

The landscape was amazing to watch change, it was as if we were watch an IMAX National Geographic movie. The sun setting on top of these small desolate towns in the middle of India, which looked surprisingly a lot like I would expect Africa to. As we approached Jodpur and the desert on our train which was now 8 hours late camels seemed to just start appearing everywhere. Woo hoo, camels. I just want to pet one and maybe I'll be happy. Rafi is on his way to a live stock fair, maybe I'll get him to pick me up one there.

Now in Jodpur the city feels like a mix between Indiana Jones and Aladdin. More to come once we break free and discover the real parts of the city, not just this tourist cell we are currently staying in.

Much love,LT

2005-11-25T16:25:00.000+03:00

Sikkim, small but beautiful
Part Three: I almost got myself a kid or Monks gone wild

After arriving back to Yuksom and a nice hot bucket we decided not to let this be the end of our Sikkim adventure. We decided to get up and go see some villages. So far in our journey the people of Sikkim had been more than a dream, they were this amazing reality. People who helped us, who, it felt, finally weren't trying to take advantage of us. But in the end if you lived in one of the most beautiful places on earth you'd probably have a lot to be happy about.

Seeing as we had just walked over 90km we decided why stop there? So we decided to walk to the village of Tashiding, only a 20km hike away. It was everything I had hoped for when I signed up for this backpacking through India gig. From the hotel we headed down the mountain on a short cut path. We wandered through farms and along streams, even met a kid who gave us each an orange from a bundle he had just picked. It is along this journey we saw bamboo thicker than your leg.
stery).

After spending an uneventful night in Pelling of watching English movies on tv, we headed for Khechopalri for what we thought would just be an evening. Out of our share jeep we were befriended by this kid, who kept telling us to up. He said he was going there, so with our bags we began to climb. I'm not talking short inclines, this was one steep journey. Half way up we discovered the lake we wanted was down, but figured we had gone this far we would see what was at the top. On the ridge stood the most amazing village, housing the small, but beautiful Gompa. We ended up staying three nights in this enchanting place, forced to leave by the expiring of our visas.

This place felt more like a commune, than a separate houses. Our hosts would just wander to the neighbors garden for vegetables for dinner each night. I never saw money being exchanged once. Children here just roamed in packs, taking food from every household. Our first night was spent around a campfire with what felt like every child in village. We sand songs and just played. In the end there was a lot of monster and hide 'n go seek. We even spent an evening painting. I fell absolutely in love with Barkash, who can been seen on the photo page. We found out he had been recently adopted, so his age wasn't known, but my guess was 4. He just had the most amazing soul, which you could see while staring into his sparkling eyes. There is a great photo of me trying to help him tie his monk robe. The first day I failed, but the second day I rocked it. All the boys of the village are monks, because that's the boys school. How interesting.

It's funny because these kids all just had snot pouring out of their noses and their clothes were all thread bearin, and this appearance would give off the sense of poverty or neglect. But in the end these were kids who live in a place that is both hot and cold in the same day, and they play hard. Climbing trees and rolling on the ground can get you pretty gross. I was really dirty after my few weeks in Sikkim.

The magic of this place wasn't just found in the people, but on this ridge with 19 houses every day it felt as if we were floating. It would be surrounded by clouds on all sides and we would just be. This is a place I would love to go to again.

So now back in Darjeeling we are actually headed to Rajastan tomorrow. Hooray for 2 day train rides. Some good news, I will be volunteering teaching kids English starting on December 9th. I'll be in the Thar Desert and I'm sure it will be priceless. If you want more info check out the website at www.tlfi.org.

Until next time. Much Love,

LT

2005-11-22T21:10:00.000+03:00

Let's all just go ahead and decide Sikkim will be a lot of reading, I'll try to make it brief. How about three easy to read sections.

Sikkim, small but beautiful.
Part One: There are no rocks in Sikkim or More lies Katie and Rafi have told me.

Something I have learned is when you are sick and send your friends out to find a trek make sure you find about about important details. For example, I ended up walking something like 97km. I journeyed from 1780km up to 4980km, and most of that was straight up hill. If the guide says today is flat he simply means you starting and ending elevations are close, you are still walking up and down mountain sides. No one mentioned these small details.

I digress. We had a great group of people trekking with us and helping us make it all the way. Our trekking group consisted of Katie, Rafi, Jean-Claude and Patrick. Jean-Claude was this amazing frenchman who has spent the past 15 years living in Berlin, playing the piano in cabarets and translating literature on music for his "job". He was amazing to have around because he was this ball of energy who would disappear up the mountain and you would find perched high on a rock. We liked to call him the red panda. In a strange turn of events he actually knows Blayne, a friend of ours from Chicago, who lived in Berlin this summer. He also knew about Charlotte von Mahlsdorf which made me feel really proud. Patrick was an englishman from Manchester, who fits that description perfectly. We never knew what he was going to say, but it would always have you rolling on the ground. Sadly he had to go back down after we feared he had altitude sickness, better safe than sorry especially with such a scary think. Our guide Josman , cook Surgeon, and rockstar porters Shanker and Lagpa. Now that our cast of characters is a little fleshed out.

The morning of our first day I was excited and ready to start this trek thing. I had no idea what we were in for or what trekking in the Himalayas really meant. The first day I'm sure it must have been beautiful, but I never really looked up from the path or stopped to take in the beauty. On our first day I thought I was going to die. Maybe not die, but really not be able to make it any further than the step I was in the process of taking. I can say with all honesty that I spent that first day on the verge of tears, convinced I would find a group going down the next day. I think the worst part was not that I couldn't go further, I was just a lot slower than red panda, or Patrick a.k.a. Mr. "I Trek All the Time" or Rafi a.k.a. Mr. "In the army we walked 90km at once." I just didn't like being alone and feeling like I was making my group wait on me. It also could have been those 3km "straight up" which our guide mentioned in passing, but the sum of those parts just wasn't great. I'm pretty sure this is the day I made my famous quote, "If I was a Tibetan refugee I'd die."

That first day I didn't stop once to see what we were walking through. Then Katie said something that was really important, "We're here because of the walk, not the campsite." Duh, it was like a light bulb had suddenly turned on. That was the only day of not stopping. I found out that my body was fine, it did take me a little longer to get places, but once we were there I felt great. I found out I'm just a really great pace trekker.
The days would range from 22km to 0km, depending on what height we were at, how crazy we were, things that are important. For the most part each day was filled with both steep ups and downs, seeing as we were crossing the mountains and not walking through any valleys. And the one day we had been promised a valley it was full of mud, I mean knee high serious mud. Even then it was only for a few km.

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Waking up at 4am in Dzongri to climb 300m straight up the ridge of this mountain. And then suddenly you are standing with a 360 degree view, behind us we could see the 40 km we had hiked through the previous 2 days and in front of us was for me the most spectacular view of mountains. Every direction there they were and stunningly beautiful. When you looking in the picture section it's the mountains with all of the prayer flags. This was another amazing part of our trek, all the the view points are marked by mounds of prayer flags. The mountains make the most calming backdrop to them or maybe they make the mountains feel blessed. The combination is amazing. On this particular morning our rockstar porter Shanker met us with tea and popcorn on our walk down the ridge. Our trek was kinda like being on a cruise ship.

Gzongri was just this amazing little campsite set in a dip of the mountain(I know there's a correct fancy word for this). The sun I should mention sets around 4:30 and it starts getting really cold around 2. Both nights we were there during dinner clouds would envelope our campsite, like fog, but clouds. Thick as day. It felt like a dream.
Another major highlight of our trek was walking through a forest which only dreams are made of. My new favorite tree the rhododendron is the state tree of Sikkim and after falling in love with it's spiraling trunk and purple bark I think I will also make it the state tree of Lindsay. The beginning of our trek was filled with jungle like forests, and then suddenly all vegetation of this sort disappears and you are left only with the amazingly silhouetted trees. I felt like I was in a forest Tolkien would write about. Sadly there are no good pictures of these trees up close, sometimes the beauty of such an object cannot be captured in a single shutter flash.

Goech-la, another major highlight gets it on section....

Sikkim, small but beautiful.
Part Two: The day I walked on the moon or I'm so proud of me.

So here's the deal our trek was scheduled to take up to Goech-la, a viewpoint of the Eastern Himalayas. There are two viewpoints, the first we had heard was the nicest and the second was a very difficult journey and rumored to often be clouded over. On the way was Tsumati Lake, this became the general goal for Katie and I during the previous days hikes. Mountains seemed to be every where, but his lake sounded amazing. But on the morning of the hike we all kinda decided the first viewpoint would be our destinational goal.

We left for Goech-la at 3:30am, yes friends we saw the other side of 3 in the morning. It was pitch black as the moon comes out around noon and is gone around 10pm. This would be true for the first 5km of our trek that morning. And the biggest problem wasn't that one by one all of our flashlights died because of the cold, but the fact that we had to cross streams. The first stream looked dead on like the one I had seen in my dream that night, all there was to get across was a thin piece of wood.

The second stream proved to be much more of a road block for us. It was maybe 7m wide, but the water was cold and quick. Josman barley made it across by hoping from stone to stone, but Jean-Claude fell in twice. It's not like it was the Ganga, but you still get really we and really cold. The problem was the rocks were slippery and far apart. As I began to cross Josman came to help me and slipped on in himself. So I was told to stop in the center of this rushing stream of water and wait. As our rockstar porter Shanker stood in the water and moved these huge rocks for us to stand on. I can't imagine the temperature of his ice cold hands. We survived.

As the light broke it was breath taking we could see in front of us Khangchendzonga, and with that we would make it to the first view point. The is something climbing 1000m in elevation 8km before 7 in the morning which really gets your blood flowing. As we climbed the steep piles of rocks to the first viewpoint I felt excited, but deep down a little sad we would not see the second. Did I mention it was -5 degrees? I had every piece of warm clothing I brought with me and even some I bought for the trek on my being. This view was spectacular, the mountains were huge and 360 around us. Pandim was just a rocks throw away, the three of us had completed our goal together.

I knew it was only 200m higher in elevation and the view wasn't suppose to be great, but I was not ready to turn around and go home. This was the best I've felt in years, I did not want it to end here.

Rafi and I discussed the idea of going to this mythical second viewpoint, Katie and Jean-Claude made it clear they were happy with this one. Josman he would not come with us, that it was technically illegal. And so for some crazy reason we decided to go anyways.

Let's not forget that Lindsay who was on the verge of tears the first day as we journey into this next part.

After climbing over a few hills of rocks, my favorite, we reached out biggest obstacle of the journey. A wall of snow with a path straight down that happened to be icy. I'm in no way joking about the straight down part(you really just look down/over the edge down), the snow or the ice. First we watched a woman and porter try to go down, and just slide. As I watched her literally hang on for her life I thought, maybe this isn't worth it. Then Rafi went down, but as he struggled I again thought maybe no and waved him to go on without me. The woman again tried with her porter and ended up sliding most of the way down on her bum.

Left at the top was this guy and I. He said, "I may never come again so I should go now." It made me really decide to go for it, I did not want to regret this. I went first and he helped me by just repeating, "You doing great." I really channeled Nick her and looked at this more like a rock climbing in reverse wall, seeing as I could not trust the path to keep me stable. I would look for my next grip, and then go for it. The guy at the top told he had decided not to come, I thought I was on my own. As the way got easier I could see Rafi had come back, the look on his face was pure shock. We journeyed on.

No one had mentioned that the viewpoint only 200m up was a 4km walk both ways through nothingness. There was this amazing flat bed which felt like we were walking on the moon.It was part sand, part snow, like a dry lake/desert hybrid in winter. As I walked across the snow the familiar crunching beneath my feet reminded me of Chicago. As we walked through this huge bowl surrounded by mountains on every side we were completely alone, it's the most unreal feeling in the world.

Next was the section where I felt like I was bouldering. And then this insane zig-zag rock wall, loose rock wall. Rocks are my biggest fear, and small rocks going up the side of this mountain were not helping. Gravel is what my nightmares are made of. The way was really steep. So Rafi, kind as he his, offered to pull me up. I declined. Rafi was actually the most amazing trekking partner. I never felt slow or like I was keeping him. I'm so thankful to have shared this experience with him.

We reached the viewpoint.. a crazier notion that I thought. That day only 5 people went, we were 2 of them. As we sat closer to Khangchendzonga than I ever thought possible I asked the guide who was there what mountain was to our left, Pandim. We had walked around Pandim it turns out. As we sat on a huge pile of rocks marked with prayer flags all we could do was take in the feeling. When you are that close to something so grand no picture will ever let anyone else understand. (I took a video for those interested.) There was even a huge lake feed by the glacier no more than 30m to our left.

This day I conquered a lot of my fears and learned a lot about myself. I always tell my cherubs to take chances, just make a choice. This is not something I really didn't understand until this day think. I pushed myself physically and mentally to go to a place only 5 people saw that day. I realized to only look ahead and not thinking about the way back. Not to think about coming down the gravel hill or up the ice wall. Although for the record I scaled that wall of snow, figuring since the path was icy I'd just climb my happy self right up through the snow. No problems. I am so happy that I took that chance and climbed down that hill.

This was the proudest I've been of myself, maybe ever. Because I did this alone and conquered a lot to get there. With designing shows there are collaborators and graduating there were your friends who helped you through. But I did this.

The way back was stunning we stopped at the Tsumati Lake and just... just sat there. I think this was actually the most beautiful scenery I've experience in Sikkim. This lake held more colors than a rainbow. Some was covered in thick ice, while the shore next to us was cool and tasted nice and fresh.

In the end our trek led us 95km through the Eastern Himalayas and up to 4980m. I began this trek in fear and I now talk about coming back to do the 15day one. I will be forever changed because of this amazing place. Sikkim has my heart.

Part Three to the epic, Sikkim, small but beautiful, I promise is on it's way. But this is a lot for now. Look at all of our new pictures!! Hooray. And thanks to everyone who sent us mail, you rock!. Much love and many hugs.
LT

2005-11-02T00:51:00.000+03:00

Happy Diwali!!

Or as we have been celebrating Diwaliween or Hallowalie. I would be describe it as a cross between The 4th of July with all is fireworks. Christmas with all this lights and decorations.And Halloween with all the people going from place to place seeing decorations and interacting with fun and mischief in their eyes.

The Festival of Light is interpreted in many different ways. Yesterday we spent the day at a Monastery out side of Gangtok. Our drive home in the night was magnificent as we winded down dark mountain roads and would come across houses inflamed with tea lights. Hundreds of them would sit on every possible ledge of house, on every story. We were originally sad not to be in a city on a river, because apparently the rivers are full of floating lights. But it felt like the houses were floating along the side of this mountain. Even the small houses, where money was sparse still was lit with the power of there small lights.

Once back in the city the colors of India blossomed every where. It's hard to make you really understand this thought, but every shop was covered in marigold garlands. Many also had Christmas lights and tinsel ornaments. And along the front of the shops were a sea of candles. The rich hotels would provide some 6 deep along their entries. The streets are also full of people and children with their firecrackers. There were a mixture of those meant for beauty and those to scare you providing only a loud boom. There are 4 days of Diwali, which means this is only the beginning.

Sadly and luckily we will not be here for all of them. I am finally over my sickness and we have decided to go on a crazy 9 day trek. We leave from Yukesom and go to Goelmuch.(I'm making up these spellings, for those of you with a map.) Don't worry it'll be a proper trek this time with a guide, cook, yaks, medic and 2 other travelers. This also means we don't know when we'll have internet again, but we've said that before and been lucky. But we warned it will be at least 10 days.

A few minutes ago I received an e-mail which was hard to read in the midst of celebration. The death of a traveler, Thomas from Germany, someone who provided lots of fun while in Rishikesh. He apparently died the day he left from Rishikesh and from us. The details aren't pretty, but at least I know he died in the country he felt most at home. In total he had spent about 7 years traveling India. His presence will be missed from this place.

If you still want to send mail to Darjeeling it looks like we will be there at least until the 16th, so get to it. I miss you all loads.

2005-10-30T15:22:00.000+03:00

If you are worried don't be, we are fine. If your not worried you get a gold sticker for knowing that we are no where near Delhi or the train derailment. Currently we find ourselves in Gangtok, Sikkim. This required a lot of paperwork / walking in Darjeeling and a 4 hour jeep ride across the border. You also might be interested in knowing that I have white spots all on the inside of my throat. Strep is my guess. I just went on down to the local pharmacist and now I'm on some good drugs and hopefully will be one hundred percent soon enough.

The drive to Gangtok was beautiful, we drove through the mountains passing lots of Asian inspired buildings. This made Gangtok a promising venture, that is until we arrived. It is basically the exact opposite of what I expected. There is an Asian influence here, but it is things made in China. I like cute gym shoes just as much as the next girl, but when that's primarily all you can find a the market. That's a lie, you can also find Old Navi, Diseel and other such popular misspelled labels.

We are trying our best to get out of the arm pit of India as I think I will start calling it. The problem is for some weird reason it's really warm here right now, which is nice for the throat. Although I must admit I am frustrated with keeping Rafi and Katie here, when we came here to trek.

So, in the end, nothing major to report. We are all safe. And all excited for Chicagoand the White Sox, although a little sad it wasn't the Cubs.

You are all missed.

2005-10-27T11:46:00.000+03:00

Okay a quick response to some comments.

1. The food here is wonderful. It's a nice mix of lots of spice, but nothing that over powers the rest. I have found out that potato's and cucumbers aren't the worst thing in the world. Street food has been maybe my favorite part, yum samosa. And you drink a lot of Chai. I mean loads of it. I'm glad Rafi's addiction to chai is stronger than mine.

2. Yes Michelle, if you send me an action figure of yourself I will carry it around India. And I can always make room for you in my pack, you not so big. Although Brandyn was right in saying I would ditch about 1/3rd of the stuff in my pack.

Okay, keep commenting and I will keep answering.

Mountian Time

2005-10-26T16:15:00.000+03:00

So we journeyed from Lucknow, a city which feels very European to Siliguri, which felt like being in China Town in New York. We arrived late and took a rickshaw half an hour to the Siliguri Lodge, next to the bus stand. If you ever need to pass through Siliguri I would recommend this place highly. We got a room with 4 single beds, each of
which came with it's own mosquito net canopy. The wall were painted magnificent pastels, and which were decorated with ornate hand painted designs. This is how I honestly expected rooms in india to be, I guess I watched too much Secret Garden and Little Princess growing up.

The next morning we hopped in a share jeep and off to Darjeeling. It's funny because we set off on this adventure to go to Sikkim, so we left Rishekesh on the 20th and it's now the 26th, and we still need permits. This is the longest it's taken me to get anywhere. Our ride to Darjeeling almost broke my heart into a thousand pieces of joy. There seemed to be beauty radiating in everything, from the peoples faces walking do the streets to the Tibetan prayer flags which fly all along to mountain side.

This area is inhabited by mostly by Indian, Nepalese and Tibetan people. It is this amazing fusion of cultures which I think makes this place so special. I can't describe it but there is just something about looking into the eyes of the people who live here that reminds you life is wonderful and special. I think after going the past month
trying to teach myself not to look into the eyes of everyone my path crosses with it's reassuring to find that pathway to the soul of people being pure.

I know I've probably said this 5 time already in my blog, but this is the most beautiful place I've ever been. It is the combination of the people and the landscape. Most of the housing is English Colonial, left over from when this was a vacation spot for the British when they were still in power. It is now infused with temples, prayer flags and
more churches than I've been around in years. This community is special because it is not one way or the other, everyone here is just living. Muslims, Buddhist, Hindus, Christians, there is just a celebration of spirit.

Last night after checking into the most amazing guesthouse << It's run by the Nepalese family, there are only 4 rooms to rent, the family lives upstairs, there is a living room that is deocrated with quilted seat covers and loads of cricket trophies. In the end we are just staying in someone's house, but it feels like grandma's house, not like their
home but like my home. In the only other occupied room in a German guy, with eyes the color of egg yoke, with Hepatitis E.>> we ventured down the hill, we are staying on the ridge up top. We had the most amazing Tibetan food, then found a water and light show. Who knew smallish towns in India had water and light shows? Not I. We also spent a few house just wandering in and out of these amazing shops selling Tibetan
and Nepalese exports.

Today Rafi really wanted to walk the city, so we did just that. Up and down little streets, having bread here and chai there. Then we ran into this Buddhist Monk.(How often in my life can I say that.) He offered to take us to a Japanese Zen Buddhist Temple, you can't say no to a monk. So off we went, walking down a secluded road, with huge
trees covered in moss on either side. Just us and this monk. Then we arrived to this surprisingly white temple. First we went into the temple part where two men sat drumming.. all day they just drum. There were places for you to sit and drum with them, I could have sat there all day. I forget how cluttered Buddhist altars are. It feel like in
Christianity they are all about simplicity, Jesus, a cross, bible and some candle sticks.

Then we walked around this huge peace shrine containing 4 different gold statues of the Buddha in different parts of his life. Then 8 different stone carved representations of situations in his life. The monk then invited us back to his house, which will soon be a
monastery, one converted from this old british manson. It's as confusing as it sounds, but the beauty and life it holds is splendid. He lives in this huge house alone, while other people live in smaller houses spread over the estate. We sat in his room and ate some bread he had cooked over the fires and some potatos he had boiled earlier. Then explored the other rooms and levels of the decaying home. Now we are home, and are going to explore the opportunities for making dinner in the kitchen. Rafi promises something involving fish and tomatos. He keep using phrases like, "You know, like the Moroccans do." Oh yes, the Moroccans.

Today was a good day.

2005-10-22T15:18:00.000+03:00

If you were ever thinking... "I'd love to go somewhere exotic, a place
full of culture and excitement, where should I go?" I can say Lucknow
is not the place for you. I think the most cultured thing we've seen
was the Indian version of Bring it On. In front of this huge Church
different groups of kids performed these "dance" routines. The were
probably 70 kids in each group, each performing something different. I
think my favorite was the group of all boys dressed up like the
Chiquita(sp?) banana woman. I only wish we had pictures.

Katie and Rafi were really excited to eat meat, so that was our basic
plan for yesterday. The important thing to note about going to a
non-veg restaurant is everything has meat. I spent the day and night
eating rice, as I picked around huge chunks of meat. Yummy.

It was really bizarre leaving Rishekesh and this sort of life I had
built there. In the end I think it was the right move, because once
again I have opened my eyes up to this exotic and vivid country.
Although I would kill to have Chai with Michael, and just a little
cake for the taste. Or to sit under the mango tree with Erez, playing
with Manager. I met some really wonderful people, who know have
changed my view of the world.

There has been loads of confusion about mail and sending mail. If you
want to send me mail e-mail me and I'll tell you where to send it.
This way your not paying loads to send something really fast and I'm
not waiting for weeks for mail.

Now we're off to see a movie after a busy day of walking the city.

Oh, I have a great joke for you, but you'll have to find the punchline yourself.

Two Americans and an Israeli spend 3 days in a Muslim city...

Sending you all my love.

2005-10-20T08:30:00.000+03:00

It works!! This is what I'm told at least. Jessica has created an easy
link in the comment folder from my posting yesterday. Sorry there
isn't much order, going by city was just easiest. And if you'll notice
in a special blind kitty section(which I thought may not happen), the
are pictures of blind kitty all over India, at least where I have
ventured so far.

Today we are leaving Rishekesh and don't really know the exact moment
of our next interaction with a computer, so hold tight it may be a few
days.

I wish you all my love.

Lindsay

2005-10-19T17:11:00.000+03:00

So I've spent the last 2 hours uploading lot of exciting pictures for
you all to see. I'm still missing Agra and a few key pictures, but
this is a great start. This awesome German guy Michael helped me. And
when I say awesome, I mean 100% amazing. The other day we were talking
about music and he says in passing that his CD player stopped working
after it got salt water in it. There was a slight laugh and someone
asked how did you get salt water in your CD player. Well, it's quite
easy if you were sleeping in a hammock on the beach when the Tsunami
happened.

I spent today nursing an injured foot before our journey to Sikkim. We
found out that Rafi and his friends back home like to do Gorilla art
instillations. I think he will make a good traveling partner.

Well, I hope you all enjoy the pictures. And I hope it works.

http://up.photos.yahoo.com/ed/lindsaytheoindia/my_photos_handler

2005-10-18T13:33:00.000+03:00

moeglich - my German word for the day.

It's been a month so far and things couldn't be going better. Well, maybe if I had a puppy things would be a little better, but not much. We are on our way out of Rishekesh on Thursday and have a weird journey to Sikkim, that involves 2 nights in Lucknow and 2 over night trains. Luckily we are traveling with Rafi, so the train ride should be some what easier. I keep going back and forth on my feelings of leaving this place which feels so much like home. I am constantly surrounded by friends, some old and some new. I mean technically they're all new, but they don't feel that way. And then there's Manager, the puppy which has taken to following me around and sleeping in my lap. There are always people to go eat with, or walk to Laxman Jula, another area of town 3km away. I think the worst part may be there are always people around to have fun with and finding a moment to yourself can be hard. But I'm okay with that for now. It's funny because over 5 days everyone in my Rishekesh community is disbanding and venturing off to other places.

We had another fiesta(I'm not sure how to say party in Hebrew). Erez and Rafi cooked some concoction involving tomatos, onions, bell peppers and eggs. Eating illegal eggs makes you feel a little scandalous.

Two days ago we decided to go rafting down the Ganga. I've spent a few weeks making fun of those people as they floated by, wearing their red life jackets and yellow helments. Then I got the lucky chance to be one of them. It's funny because the first time I saw the Ganga it felt like just another river, but now it has really defined my trip. I fell like everywhere I am tempted to dive right in. And this time I go to swim and float and raft right down the river. Laughing the entire way as the cold water would rush into our boat. It was nice to float down the center of Rishekesh and see it all from a new angle.

Yesterday was to be another trip to a waterfall. This one was a 6km rickshaw ride and then a 2km walk. After some bargining we managed to finally get a reasonably priced rickshaw to take us. Then we just started hiking up. I now have no problems with my knee, only with my confidence. The higher we walked the more I thought about our long journey down. We found one waterfall and swam, but then heard rumors of another one only a 10 minute walk farther up the path. And so we began the real adventure for the day. We found another waterfall, but for some reason thought this was not the one people had been talking about and decided to go even farther into the mountian. Then came the spliting of the path. All of my Disney training taught me most people go right, so I should go to the left. There was a path, but it was not as you might imagine. There were points where it was only about a foot wide, one side was mountian, the other was, well no mountian. And for some reason we ventured on. The forrest was beautiful, at any moment you could be surrounded by a swarm of yellow butterflies or see beautiful palms growing next to the cactus trees. Suddenly it all disappeared and we were walking in a village, through farms and heards of goats. We followed the water irrigation system they had set up through the fields of rice, waving to women in sarees across the mountian. We were then befriended by some boys, one carrying flour and the others rice. They sort of just lead us to their house. It's funny because while were were out of place here, it didn't feel like we were aliens, we were simply guests. I held the baby and played with the kids, as Rafi talked to the father about the school he teaches for in the village. The children excited to show us thier animals and the english they had been learning. I must admit I was impressed, their English it is about 100 time better than my Hindi. We then sat on the roof drinking Chai with half the neighborhood, as a woman sifted rice. It was perfect, simply perfect. As the sun began to go down we suddenly remembered our journey down the mountian and were quickly off. The journey down the mountian was ... an experience, but worth every moment with that family. We even hitch hiked back to town. Not on purpose, we were waiting for the bus and I saw a car coming. I kinda just waved my hand, not really expecting him to stop but he did. The kindness of strangers is beautiful.

2005-10-15T11:42:00.000+03:00

Things in Rishekesh have been perfect. Perfect in the sense that I don't have to do anything. I know it may seem a little crazy to come all the way to India just to do nothing, but traveling 20 hours by train or bus every few days takes a lot of out you.

We created the perfect food for India, American-Mexican-Indian food. After longing for a Chipotle burrito we decided to give it a go. We kept saying burrito to our Israeli friends and they kept looking at us like we were crazy. So last night was a great fiesta here in India. And in the end it actually worked our well. In total we had 6 Israeli's, 2 Germans, and 2 Americans. If you'll notice there is no mention of anyone even remotely Spanish. We blew their minds.

Erez and I ventured out to find the perfect cheese for Mexican food. This is 100 times harder than you might imagine. It took Katie and I about 3 hours in the market just for vegetables, seasoning and a the perfect chapati(bread). Although I must say we were india rockstars going to the real market, not the tourist version where everyone speaks english and tries to sell you a bell pepper for a dime, rather than the 2 cents you should be paying.

Anyways, Erez and I crossed the bridge over the Ganga and could hear people chanting down by the river, so clearly we followed the sounds to a nearby ghat. There were Brahman and Baba's gathered at the bottom, but we couldn't quite figure out what was going on. All we could see was a large wooden box, without a lid. They then place it in a large boat, usually used to carry people across the river. As we moved closer to about 20 ft from the edge of the river the ceremony because clear. After placing the box in the boat they then lifted a corpse, sitting in a chair into the boat. It was wrapped in beautiful fabric, covered in flowers. And as in the tradition the face was not covered. The then placed sand bags in the box, then the body, then flowers up to the brim. Finally they nailed the top of the box on. The entire time you as listening to the intoxicating chanting, people blowing into conch like shells, bells being rung. This was no funeral, but a celebration. As the boat cast off from the ghat, it was filled with 40 men all chanting into the darkness of the river. I can only assume they went up stream and sunk the box, but I guess I'll never know.

I must say one of the craziest things about India is that there is no privacy, everything is public. Every 10 meters you run into a shrine, home made or otherwise. We've now walked right through 2 wedding parties. A dozen or so funerals. It's a beautiful thing to be such a part of every ones life.

2005-10-11T11:30:00.000+03:00

Pomegranates and yoga centers. Waterfalls and baby goats. The birth of the Ganga and the death of a friend.
These are the small adventures I have been on in the last 10 days. I swear I wrote a really long, intense blog about how I thought Rishekesh is not for me. And how I wasn't sure what I wanted to gain from it, being a place where all people come to find something within them selves. But alas as I went to post this blog the internet went down and it is lost in India dial-up somewhere.

It's funny because our first few days in Rishekesh I kept going out and trying to find my purpose for being here. We had come expecting to stay a while, but I could find nothing to occupy my time. I tried a few yoga classes, but haven't seemed to find one which suits me best. It was after one the these attempts that I found the greatest gift Rishekesh could have given me... friends. It's funny because after meeting such great people in Varinasi I for some reason feared I would meet no one else. Then came the Israeli boys, each traveling separately they had all met up in Rishekesh for a few days. Also our first semi-American, Michael, who for some unknown reason thought he should marry this Indian girl he met only 4 days earlier.
It's funny how nice it was to be around people who are traveling. You are 100% honest from the first meeting, to that 8th cup of chai you are drinking. I would say my friendship with Rafi, Erez and Daniel began on Rosh Hashanah, peeling pomegranates and singing songs. It's funny because if I've learned anything is that I don't need to know everything, that's why I'm traveling. I expected to learn a lot about the Indian culture, but this is proving to be only the beginning. Erez grew up in a Kibbutz for example, an experience I can only begin to understand. And Rafi and Daniel are fresh out of the Army, an experience I am glad never to have had. It blows my mind the fact that they feel so familiar and yet we have only a small common language of life.

Daniel, the energetic one of the group, moved on the Varinasi. This left Katie, Erez, Rafi and I as this group of friends. Spending hours talking under the tree by our hotel, eating every meal as a family. We even ventured to a near by waterfall only a 4 km walk. This was one of my best days in India, and it was funny because we spent it in the woods. It was almost the opposite of India, in a strange way.

It was during this we decided to venture to Gangotri, the source of the Ganga. The boys clearly thought we were crazy, saying we could leave our bags in their rooms, but the knew we would never make the morning bus. Well, to their surprise we were at their door at 5:30 am bags in hand and off we went.

Note to self: If ever planning on trekking get many details.

The bus ride to and from the Himalayas was an experience to say the least. It was filled with rock slides, heards if sheep and goats, and the most beautiful Nepalese children. A guy even for on our bus with a knapsack with baby goats. Don't worry we have a picture. After 14 hours on a bus clearly the next thing to do was hike.

I'm used to the cold, but I'm also used to heaters. Gangotri provided one without the other. The next morning we headed up the trail with a guy from Malta. I should mention this is not like a small hike in the woods. People hire porters and guides, you can ride on a donkey or horse. We aren't talking a short trek, but in total about 39km. But what did we need help for, we would be fine. Within the first 2km our friend from Malta had given in and hired a porter and left us in his dust. I'm not going to lie, the altitude I thought might kill me. Rishekesh is 500m, Gangotri is 3200m and we were hiking to 4000m. My little lungs somehow made it through. I cannot fully describe the beauty of the ice capped mountains, I also cannot describe how many times I thought I might die. Our first night we stayed in a tent, on a ridge, in the Himalayas. Cold much. But around 3 I woke up and ventured out of our tent to see more stars than I have ever seen. It was so clear you could see the satellites moving. Breath taking.

The next morning we went to the source of the Ganga. Where the glacier is melting and the river begins. This was a strong site to see, considering we have have seen the ganga in many different forms so far. Splendid. Amazing.
We hiked back to Gangotri the next morning and was before noon. The night before we had left for Gangotri I found out one of my grandfathers had died. Technically he is my step-grandfather, but after spending last year living in Louisiana I had seen him on a more regular basis that any other grandparent. He was a great man and is one of the only people I know who has been in India. I decided that I wanted to do something, since I couldn't be with my family and there is no better place than the source of the Ganga. I really started thinking more about my grandparents and how much they meant to me. And how much I know they would have supported me, after all with the war they traveled all over the world. I ended up buying this boat like thing, filled with leaves and a candle. I left one go in memory of each of my grandparents and one for my uncle(For those who knew Uncle Danny you might like to know that his flipped over and all I could think of was him saying "bury me face down, so everyone can kiss my ass." It was perfect) . Katie also had a great aunt die the same day so we had a short service, saying a few words for the recently departed, then sending them down river. This may be my most inspired moment in India thus far.

Well, now we are back in Rishekesh, with our new friends, planning a new adventure.

2005-10-10T20:03:00.000+03:00

Please no worries. We are fine, I swear. We've actually been in the Himalayas so we didn't even know about the earthquake until tonight, although we could feel it where we were. More to come tomorrow.
Love,
LT

2005-09-30T16:50:00.000+03:00

The amazing colors of Agra. This is literally across the river from the Taj Mahal.

2005-09-30T16:39:00.000+03:00

If this photo works, it may be worth the 6 minutes it took to upload.

2005-09-29T19:35:00.000+03:00

Varanasi is now a moment of the past. I must admit it was hard to leave as I felt I finally found a place I was comfortable in. After a 20 train ride we have landed in the world of Rishikesh, located in Uttaranchal. For those of you who may not be as familiar with this area we are in the foothills of the Himalaya's, a place where the Ganges flow clear. This was almost a culture shock, if I''ve had one yet.

Until today India was:
People everywhere, wanting you to buy everything. Car horns, bicycle bells, people yelling to get out of the way. There is no silence. The colors are vibrant, but there are almost to many to see their beauty. The streets wind, as you share your space with cows, dogs, monkeys, bikes, rickshaws, people trying to sell things.

India has become:
The silence of a road suspension bridge as the Gange River flows beneath you. The stars shining bright, reminding you we are all under the same sky. Bad Italian food, making you wish you had eaten somewhere else. People feeding the cows and dogs, rather than watching them eat plastic. There is a calmness here that is reassuring and I will treasure. Everyone her has come for some type of inner peace and the chanting happening around every corner makes you feel at home.

We had to walk over a mile to our hotel, as there are no cars allowed across the rope suspension bridge. I cannot describe the feeling of leaving a river that has no dissolved oxyen and finding a place where it is pure. We are hopefully staying here a few weeks, but only tomorrow will tell.

I would love if anyone comes across Lisa Joyce to give her a high five for me on her Jeff nomination. What a crazy rockstar.

2005-09-26T10:09:00.000+03:00

I'm going to be honest with all of you right now. I haven't written in a few days because I sort of fell apart in the midst of big cities, being sick and realizing just how long it will be until I see any of you again. This was all topped of with the worst over night train ride to Viranasi, that in the end was a great blessing. The worst part had to do with the people we shared out compartment with, the best thing to happen to me thus far in India was meeting 3 other travelers. Jenson, a brit, and Annette and Bart some awesome Dutch. They are all at the very end of their journies and have been really inspiring to be around. They have to confidence of walking into that little hole in the wall resturant or walk from ghat to ghat in a city that is not known for treating it's traveler's well. We met them at the Agra train station, then found out we were in the same hotel and now we have people to ask our loads of questions to. I feel a hundred times better today than I did two days ago. Hooray!

We spent the day yesterday wandering the ghats that line the Gange river. It is extimated that 60,000 hindus come each day to bathe here. This is also they place people come to die, they can wash away all their impurities and then be cremated on the river. We began at the southern most ghat, Assi and slowly walked from ghat to ghat. The colors of the saree(the correct spelling of sari) silk are the colors you expect from the pictures in National Geographic. We took a rest sitting a one of the ghats when we noticed the next ghat up was burning something. Bodies? No, the burning ghat is much farther up. A man then approached us say that yes it was a burning ghat, the smaller one for the city and would we like to come see. Without really thinking I said yes. He took us to a small temple that over looked the ghat. As I looked at the burning wood I thought well, no bodies I guess they are just waiting for a funeral to come. Then I took a closer look and suddening in each of the dozen or so fires I suddenly say pieces of the body. I will not go into detail, but it was life changing. The body really is empty after death, the spirit is no longer there, it is merely a shell. I think it is the most respectabe funueral I have ever seen. There is no preserving the body, the family is with it from the moment the realative dies until they place the ashes in the river. It is stunning.

2005-09-22T16:26:00.000+03:00

I am not dead, only sick. Can you believe that? Sick and I've only been in India for 5 days. Luckily I'm almost over it, and I sure didn't let it keep me from adventure. Adventuring we went, into the night. Or rather morning, as we work up late for our train from Delhi to Agra. Not late, but we had wanted to arrive to the station 20 min before our train. It turns out arriving later was actually better, there was less time for people to stop and stare. We had purchased our tickets a day earlier through the Tourist Ticket Booth, which included nice couches and lots of people to speak english with.

We road in a practically empty 2A car(2 tier air-con), nice ride. Sometime between Delhi and Agra we decided to get off a little early in a town called Mathura. I had read about it in the guide book as being a holy Hindu town, it is also close to Vrindravan, both have close connections with Krishna. Once we stepped off the train I thought Katie for sure was going to kill me. It appeared to be a small town that never had tourists. Just what I wanted, right? We were hassled from the moment we stepped off the train. The rickshaw driver we hired did not take us to the hotel we asked for and we finally settled on the second one he took us to. It was not what we had wanted, but at that point it was like, "We are out of here at sunrise." (I know my use of the word like is annoying, but I was a little annoyed.)

We decided since we were there we would just go see the sights, go to bed and off to the train. A little sketched to leave our stuff in this hotel we seperated out the important things and carried them along the way. It was a 10km rickshaw ride to Vrindravan down a very dark and super sketchy road. We are talking about people merging with us in traffic, and taking a double take as if I had two heads. I have not grown another head.

Even with the all the run around this has been my best few hours in India. The part of India I came to see. Vrindavan is home to between 4000-5000 Hindu temple, depending on who you ask.

Highlights:

The Mirror Temple: It's as if Vegas and Drury Lane had a child that was a Hindu Temple. On the outside of the temple was a life size-plastic-full color-christmas nativityish representation of some time in Krishna's life. It's like the big animals in Minnesota, only better.

The Brahman: He guided us through the village and temples, bringing us to sights and sounds we would have never discovered otherwise. It was his "right" to do this we were told.

The Ashrams: Thousands of widows chanting for 8 hours a day and we were led around the perimiter of the room. It was full over sacred energy and pure emotion.

The Monkeys: They are everywhere, hundreds of them. Stealing glasses, attaching my backpack, then stealing the piece of cloth meant to keep them away from our Braham.

The Garland: We were given a flower garland to give to Krishna in honor. This we did at Krishna's Temple. This involved circling a pillar, sitting infront of a shrine and having an orange dot place on your head. Beautiful.

The Ghats: These are large sets of stairs set along the river. Each evening, the exact time we were there, the Hindus sit along the Ghats chanting and worshipping. The light candles and then them down the river, a truly divine sight.

If you are ever in India and don't mind being completley sketched out for a little while this is a place everyone should see. We danced in the very garden Krishna is rumored to dance in, the streets are full of marvel.

It's funny because Katie and I are figuring out that us traveling together is acutally good. She likes to read about places and I like to make it happen, reservations, money, etc. At the same time you can't always know what's going to happen next, so you just have to jump off the train when you get the urge.

Oh, you guys would be proud. The next morning we headed off to the train station, it turns out you can only buy general seating tickets day of. Close your eyes if you will. Loads of people, few seats and Katie and I, sick as a dog. Did I mention we saw no other non-Indian people our entire journey. Which was fine for us, but didn't seem fine for them. Katie was even asked where her husband was. The train come, and you have to push your way onto the car, it only stops for 3 minutes. Of course no seats on bottom, but we find a top seat free and by top seat I mean luggange rack. I throw my bag us as it I'd done it a hundred times and climbed up. Ha, amazing. I was honestly really proud of us.

Well, I'm feeling better. Thanks for asking.

Today we are in Agra, home of the Taj, Baby Taj and Agra Fort. We saw them, they were cool pictures to come. I must say the most interesting thing we say today was how marble in-lays are done. I've got some great pictures, but I don't think this dial-up could handle that. Well, we are off in the morning for Vrinassi. (I'm sure my spelling is wrong.)

I want to say happy b-day to Pam, Mary and Eric. I know there are more I might miss but I catch you on my next computer.

Namaste

2005-09-19T09:57:00.000+03:00

Okay, I've been outside. not just outside but all over Delhi. Now I must leave, the pollution is killng me. <--- I think that describes my last two days. Katie tells me she's written almost everything thing we've done on her blog, so I'll just give you the highlights.

After writing in my blog yesterday we finally left the hotel and it was just like the movies. But that was somehow okay. It's funny because we are in the part of Delhi you see in the movies, the small crowed streets, people everywhere. We haven't left our hotel for 10 minutes when this nice Indian kids strikes up a conversation with me as we walk around our neighborhood. This is soon a conversation I would think of fondly and miss. He is in Delhi studying English and is on his way to Japan soon to teach there. He is from Rajastan, but has family. He keeps asking when are you leaving Delhi, you should really leae Delhi before you hate India. This is not the only time we have heard this from someone here. Katie is totally sketched out by this kid, but I figure as long as I know where I am and we take no turns down empty alleyways things should be okay. For this our first trip out have have my secret money belt on with my passport and only my rain coat in my bag. This is a sort of test to see what's up and will people will do to me and my stuff. Everything was fine. He actually helped us find our way to the Government Tourist Office who helped us book a car for the next day to see all of Delhi, the best decision we've made so far.

The streets here are both for driving and walking. I can't tell whether people here are the best drivers I've ever seen or the worst. There is a huge communication through the horn, since no one has side mirrors. And as you walk you walk with the traffic or against it which ever, this depends on which side of the road they want to drive on. And in the end you are often head on with something and either you move or he does. Ususally it was me. We took our first autoricksaw last night and I thought we were going to die. Not really, but I was scared. Katie kept saying it's going to be okay, the problem is I know how much it sucks to be run over by a car.

Not only are there cows everywhere, but dogs. At all of the sights we went to yesterday, in the street, everywhere. And you want to talk about mangie(sp?). Ora, maybe you should come here and bathe them. Also, our hotel has a rooftop area with plants, it seem really out of place as you look down onto the street. But only a few feet away on the rooftop of our neighbors roof was a 4ish day old kitten. Let's just say I wanted to make it our mascot and carry it in my pack. i have my rabies shot, right?

Yesterday was a day for seeing a different Delhi, really a different world. I think the most exciting place we went was the Qutb Minar Center. Home to India's first mosque built in 1193 and The Iron Pillar built over 2000 years ago. Beautiful, it was built on the foundation on a Hindu Temple. It now is simply the bones of the original, but I cannot imagine it in a more magnificant state. This is a sight everyone should see, I am hoping to post pictures soon.

We also hit up the Bahai temple, Humayan's Temple, India Gate and The Red Fort. We also got Katie's bag from the airport which is good news.

Hopefully we are leaving Delhi soon. My throat is killing me from the pollution, plus it's just a lot of city. I would kill to speak English again to someone who isn't selling me something. Also, some people have been asking about my family in New Orleans, every one is at least live and well. My Dad's house is still standing and he has returned home, if only the power would come back. I'm not sure on everyones stuff in N.O., but they are alive.

If anyone can send me information on the derailing of the CTA, we saw something on the BBC, but can't find more details. Also, another hurricane, run Diane, run.

Brad Smith- Happy belated birthday, india is freaking crazy.

I love you all.

2005-09-17T16:04:00.000+03:00

We are here. Slow deep breaths keep me sane

After our flight arrived 2.5 hours late we learned our evening was not over yet, we would get the true India experience. Katie's bag has for some reason decided not to join us here in Delhi. I think we took it rather well, considering it was pouring rain and 2 in the morning. We stood in lines, filled out forms and dreamed of our driver who we hoped would be waiting just outside. the good news is her bag should be here tomorrow morning. Cross your fingers. But honestly we are resourceful girls and made due with anything we were missing, like the toilet paper.

The Delhi airport was suprisingly calm, on the inside. As soon as we made our final customs check it was off the the real Delhi. "Ma'am""Over here""I can help you""Pretty lady."We did end up finding our driver and making it to our hotel.

Delhi is everything I expected from the movies and at the same time nothing like I expected real life would ever be. The smell and noises are as real as you and I. Our journey to the hotel took us through a deserted Delhi. The rain and late evening hours seemed to have kept everyone inside. Outside on the market filled streets were the cows, everywhere.

Our hotel is perfect and by perfect I mean seedy. In a good way. No worries. We finally passed out around 4:00am. I then awoke to the prayer bells at 6:00, the radios were turned on and I could hear the singing for hours. I looked out our window, only to find myself spying on our neighbor bathing on his balcony. My second image out the window was, believe it or not, a rather large monkey. After reading until around 9:30, I again passed out, not waking until 2 in the afternoon.

We still have not ventured out of our hotel, the rain holds us hostage, so I cannot report on the real India.

All I know for sure is that it each day will be new and exciting and unexpected.

2005-09-15T00:45:00.000+03:00

In 11 hours I'll be in the air on my way to meet up with Katie at JFK. As shocking as it may be, I want all of you to know that I have every intention of making it to India this time, on-time and all.

My day has been full to say the least. I received my finally Hep shot this morning, I then finally found the best journal a girl could hope for and quickly bought it. I spent the afternoon with my sister painting pottery at a local pottery store. A quick note, to do this she insisted that she, her doll and I wear matching outfits. It was interesting. We came home, I finished packing and my mom and I head of to a Marc Anthony concert. This was clearly her choice for our final date, but I did have a great time and got to wear off some of the extra energy I've been holding inside.

Now I sit here and do the final few details and count the hours. They are moving a little slower than I hoped they would.

Fun photos.

2005-09-14T23:03:00.000+03:00

My beautiful family.

"It's a seahorse, it's a shark... no it's LT."

Ooo, look I can breath underwater.

If I don't make it, look for me with the sharks

2005-09-14T01:04:00.000+03:00

I'm at the breaking point, where each second I simply feel like my life may fall apart and no one will see me as I drown in the ocean of the world. Within the past 24 hours I've returned to Florida, after having an amazing vacation with my sister and mom. I spent the few free days becoming a certified open water diver, which is an experience I have always wanted to have be never had the opportunity to act on. I then finally heard from my Dad, who returned to a home with no water, power and a lot less trees. I took that moment to say goodbye since cell phone service is non-existent down there. My mom and I spent most of today fighting with my travel agency (OneTravel). I don't really want to get into it, but let's just say that tonight at 11pm I bought another ticket to India. I will go.

2005-09-07T05:58:00.000+03:00

This is my blog.