More Delhi

Today Brian and I headed down to CP to attend a play in Sanskrit that my professor told me about. We decided that we'd hit up Saravana Bhavan while we were down there. There we are eating dosas and these two dudes were chilling in the corner, not really paying attention to us as they ate. But when they finished the older guy came over and sat next to Brian. He made a couple of prophecies regarding Brian, and then a couple for me, unsolicited and on the money. Turns out he is associated with the late Sai Baba of Maharashtra and his name is Dikshit Baba (for those unfamiliar with India this name is NOT fabricated). After a photo session and cigarette we headed for the Mandi House for the play. I was surprised at how many people there were, and enjoyed how beautiful they were in their super nice traditional gear. We were having a discussion near the main entrance and a bunch of people were motioning for us to take a seat in front of them in the second row. We make our way over. Of course they actually know Sanskrit and think its cool that I'm trying to pick it up. That lost its appeal as soon as I proved how little I actually know. Anyway, I got offered a job to teach in Karnataka, presumably when I finish my studies. I was also offered a certificate. One guy was pretty tight. He translated the play for me. Now for the good shit, when the play was over we were invited to "meet the students" (the actors). Then we were taken on stage to be "honored" with the actors. They had the full photo shoot and everything! :) Of course I had on my best shit...dickies and a t-shirt.

Here's some random photos from around town. They definitely don't gel with the current discussion, but anyway... The top photo is of the only authentic hole-in-the-wall I've ever seen, a chai stand in the neighborhood!

A Little Respite

On the way to Orccha the bus broke down. So I was kicking it in heat that matched the Thar desert easily. Of course there was no shade to be found. Eventually I end up climbing onto another bus passing by. Two bus worth of people in one bus. Atleast there were no chickens...that I saw.

Orccha was cool. It was a dirty hippy paradise with sadhus, a couple butt-naked, and Hindu pilgrims everywhere. There's a Ram temple in the village that attracts many people, and I happened to arrive during an auspicious time. My first night there I was walking down towards the river and a very fragile looking sadhu came up behind me singing some song. I listened carefully trying to figure out what he was saying. I recognized it as Sanskrit. It was a pleasant song and really added to the aura of the place. Once he finished his song I began with one of the Rama shlokas that I had to memorize earlier. You should have seen this guys face. About half way through, once he realized that what I was saying was not coincidental, he emphatically finished the song. It was awesome. That was probably the most memorable part of the trip. Otherwise it was just more temple/palace/fort whoring.

The king's palace there was pretty kick ass though. I snuck in early and had the place to myself. Some of the balconies and outer passage ways had collapsed and you could see through the shaky floor in many spots which made for a scary tour. There were giant vultures sitting on top of the ancient spires. All things considered it was pretty special.

I "finished" Orccha pretty early and needed to kill time somehow. I decided to head back down to the river and find a tree to sit under and just watch the pilgrims do their laundry and swim and whatnot. I finally settled on a clean enough spot, but it smelled pretty foul again. Like that field of dead cows and your average septic river. I'm just sitting there taking in the sights and after about 20 minutes I notice that one of the nearby "boulders" was actually a half submerged dead cow. Locals eagerly swam and bathed and did their laundry. What happened to the dead cow moments later is far too disgusting to relate here. I couldn't wait to get home.

And of course Delhi had its own surprises waiting for me. Like the guy with elephantitis-stricken-testicles swollen to the size of small basketballs running around flashing everyone. It never stops in here.

Sexy Temples

This was another trip that had been high on my itinerary. Amazingly, my previous email exchanges have shown that Khajuraho is not as household as I suspected. Well, I hope the pics can do most of the talking. I didn't allow myself much time for this trip. My research said a few days was plenty. This was unfortunate. My trip began with me being attacked by the local pack of dogs on my street. It was super early in the morning and they were up to their usual no good. Luckily the one dog that went as far as to try to bite me only got my pant material and my Bruce Lee spin kicks were sufficient to deter any further bites. It didn't set the right mood though.

I got to my train and was immediately basking in a/c luxury, which was accompanied by thoughts of the hell I was going to endure on the other end. The train was delayed by domestic disturbances in Mathura. Something to do with local trains being made to run late to cater to the VIP train I was on. Shortly the police showed up with their dandas (night sticks). There is nothing more frightening to an Indian than one of their cops coming at them with a stick. So we were on our way again.

In Jhansi, after the usual run around with the rickshaw drivers and touts I succumbed to a deal with a young guy whose father supposedly owned this nice hotel in Khajuraho. I would pay a little extra on a cab (having missed our bus due to the Socialists!), and he'd discount my hotel room. I decided to take my chances. Not everybody is out to get you here. First they wanted to get something to eat/drink. Being the paranoid ex-shitbag that I am I immediately got the impression that they were out to drug me. All I could think about is how pissed I'd be if they succeed! In the end everything worked out and I had a good room in the hotel.

The temples in Khajuraho were mind-blowing, even if you disregard the R-rated carvings. I was so glad I made the trip. I had began to worry that I had developed too high of a "temple tolerance" and would not be able to appreciate them anymore! It is easy to see, and no exageration to consider these temples some of the finest in the world.

I Love Rat Piss

I didn't even have time for a shower after a day of fort and temple exploration followed by the camel ride, before I had to jump in a local busfor an overnight journey to the town of Bikaner. This place does not sharethe name recognition of Jaisalmer but still has a certain degree of fame due to the nearby temple of holy rats.

The night bus was hell. First it took over an hour for everyone to find their seat AFTER having boarded!! I'm not even bullshitting. It made theForeign Registration Office in Delhi look efficient. I just sat there sweating my ass off and thinking "how is this possible, really?" And events on this journey somehow only worsened! We encountered a sand storm in the middle ofthe night. It was bad. And because there was no a/c, or maybe because everyone else is used to it, we rode with windows down. I tried to sleep, but it's a bus...in India. So the horn never ceased and I had bullknucklers snuggling with me. About 5 am I finally get to Bikaner, covered in an unbelievable layer of dirt. I knew I was in trouble when I couldn't find anything written in English. This is also when you know you're off the beaten path in India. I ask around and discover there is no bus to Deshnok, my main destination. Knowing better, I arranged a rickshaw anyway and made for Deshnok. I have to admit to getting a very fair price, making the bus option irrelevant. Anyway, on the way, the sun came up and looked spectacular against the desert plains. We were jamming to some unidentifiable Indian music which I almost always enjoy on a trip like this because it somehow helps me forget the reality of being a tourist.

The anxiety that had built up with regards toentering a temple full of rats only increased as time passed. I watched the beautiful sunrise and thought about what I would do if bitten by rats, wouldI get rabbies?, and wondered if I really had enough courage or insanity to remove my shoes as per temple entry requirements.

While pondering this I noticed a not altogether unfamliar stench. Familiar enough that I didn't think much of it at first. But when I looked left and saw the pasture of decomposing carcasses I took note. There must have been a hundred plus rotting cows (?) just laying on the ground producing an odor that would choke any normal person. We continued on. The stench was so thick I could almost taste it. I thought to myself, "what is wrong with me," and laughed.

On the outside the Karni Mata temple looks like any other respectable temple in India with its beautifully carved marble and whatnot. I kicked off my shoes and socks, handed them to an eager shoe dude who, like many people in the area, looked at me as if they had never seen whitey. Gingerly I entered. Rats were scrambling everywhere. Hundreds, if not thousands. They dined on religious offerings, chilled in corners, and ran right up to me. Unfortunately I was not lucky enough to get the auspicious "scamper"over my feet, nor spot the white rat. But they came close enough. I hung out for a bit, talked to a couple of devotees, and bounced. On my way out I stepped directly in a pool of rat piss.

Afterwards, I visited the shitty fort in Bikaner. I was just killing time, and had to suffer through countless bullknuckler handshakes and photo ops. It's the gringo off season, but the local tourist season is in full swing, and so I did my part. I know I sound terrible busting on the 'knucklers, but in all honesty I know that their curiosity in me is no different than mine in them. As I position myself for shots of locals, so they do the same. Still no shower, reeking of camel, dead cow, and rat piss, I boarded my train and slept the 12hrs back to Delhi in 100+ degree heat and no a/c.

Paradise 2.0

I had been wanting to visit Jaisalmer since I arrived in India, having readabout the wonderful fort and desert safaris, and so this trip was longoverdue. After nearly 20 hours on the train I finally reached this tinytown in the far west.

On the horizon the fort looked intimidating enough as I approached, but onceI got there I noticed that it was quite ordinary, even lacking the grandeurof many other forts I have seen. Apparently what makes Jaisalmer sonoteworthy is that one, guide books need something to talk about out there,but more importantly two: the fort is still inhabited.

I checked into my hotel, within the fort walls. I had been offered "freehassle" at a different hotel outside the fort by a young non-english-speaking tout but decided to buck the appeal to "ethical"tourism in my guidebook and instead indulge in the full fort experience. I have to admit it was pretty damn cool wandering around and checking outfort-life. I was fortunate enough that the heat kept most tourists awaymaking my experience a bit more authentic. Inside the fort though, lifecarries on like it does anywhere in urban India and so it still required some imagination to get a sense of the ancient. Once I finally left the fort the desert took on a different look. People no longer had runningwater or intricately carved facades on their homes. Instead they had extremely austere mud hut homes, maybe access to a nearby well, and blistering heat. I mean blistering. It made Delhi feel pleasant.

After a short jeep ride which included a visit to two desert villages (in which these pics were taken) I had mounted my camel and was headed for the dunes. Village life in the Thar Desert is unbelievably brutal. I still cannot get over how anyone can survive out there. I'm glad I decided to do the camel thing. Sitting atop my camel approaching the dunes seemed to provide the greatest insight into desert life and what it must have been like hundreds of years ago, and forsome, today. It was awesome. But I was hurting when I got off. My advice is be cautious of long camel safaris. I watched the sun set and then hopped in my jeep for the bus stand. I am a contender for the world's shortest safari. The trip did provide some of my most cherished images of India though. The bright colored sarees and turbans contrast so sharply with the blinding sun scorched desert sands, and the image of such sarees blowing in the 120 degree breeze is one that is hard for me to forget.

A pink and purple pocadotted man-skirt.

Okay, so shortly after the trip to Khajuraho and Orccha I once again headed to the deep south. After a week in Mumbai I made my way to Trivandrum in southern Kerala. This is THE place that many Americans would love to immigrate to considering that it is overwhelmingly communists, as is the entire state, but is also overwhelmingly Muslim. You could write a book on this paradox. I didn't stick around long, as my main destinations were further south. A few hours later, by local bus, I arrived in Kanyakumari. This began as more of a symbolic journey for myself, i.e. to reach the southern tip of India, but I quickly learned that there was much more awaiting me. This is the site of a significant moment in Swami Vivekananda's life, a guru who has had some pretty major influence on my own spirituality. I won't go into anymore details on that here. Outside of the temple that attracts hundreds of thousands of Hindu pilgrims a year this place was laid back, characteristic of this entire trip south.

After I had my fill I caught another bus to Kovalam Beach. I was happy to discover a beach paradise that must resemble what Goa did before the dirty hippies overran the place and the tourist industry exploded, not that Kovalam was without hippies! It was just still a majority of Indians. Given the chilled out nature of this trip there is little worth mentioning. I mean, I didn't see or smell any death, nor was I kicked by any lepers (unless you count the train station before I departed for Mumbai). It was just an overall good experience. My hotel room was separated from the beach only by a small sidewalk and cost less than $5 USD a night. How beautiful is that!


From Kovalam I made a quick stop in some other small town the name of which I have forgotten for a short backwater float. It was just your typical backwater experience that can be had at seemingly any point along the Keralan coast. I will not go out of my way for another canoe ride.

Next on the itinerary was a trip to Periyar Wildlife Preserve. Most visitors to this park go in the hopes that they will spot a tiger, I didn't get my hopes up and instead decided to content myself with "wild" elephant sitings that never occurred! This hike, however, provided endless encounters with the leeches that come out to play in the rain (like the 'after' shot?). Interestingly the highlight of this trip was not the eventful hike through the preserve, but the illegal hike into, or along the Tamil Nadu border euphemistically referred to by my hotel manager as "this side of the park". It was cheaper and every bit as spectacular. All I had to do was pay for the guide and enough so that he could buy off the authorities along the way.

I allowed myself enough time to return to Kovalam Beach, having had such an enjoyable time there. Here's one last shot.

A little bit of Delhi

The Lotus Temple in Delhi.
A sadhu I found washing his garment along the bank of the Ganga in Rishikesh.
Haridwar, another holy site for Hindus. This place was awesome.

Still playing catch up...I'm a disgrace.

I do realize that I am not doing justice to my time here in the current format, but I refuse to go back and type up all these adventures without first trying to see if anyone has them saved! Here's a shot from Sarnath, Uttar Pradesh, where Buddha is said to have given his first sermon. This image is found inside the temple there.

















Believe my luck? A cow resting inside a shop in Varanasi.












































Though you're not supposed to take pics of the cremations occuring on the banks of the Ganga here I decided that this was just another rule to be dispensed with as one wishes. I definitely do not intend to offend anyone in doing so, but feel that this is educational and worthy of being witnessed.
















In Darjeeling, the Tibetan Book of the Dead is kept up here in one of these buildings.

Burqas on the Beach

My account from Mumbai has been lost as well, so here's just a couple shots. This one is from the cab on the way to some hotel. We drove for an hour straight and saw both sides of the street lined by shantis just like this, two stories high or approximately 12 feet, with life just spilling literally into the street. Cooking, bathing, playing, you name it.







I thought I had the nerve to venture into the red light district for some photos....I decided to just do some drive-by photography...













Here's one of my favorite places in India, Murud. Somewhat off the beaten path, this place had the highest concentration of Muslims I think I've seen yet. The people were extremely friendly. The family I crashed with took me into their home, cooked me breakfast, and went out of their way to make my experience great. I love this pic showing burqas on the beach.







This floating fort is just south of Murud.















I caught a boat out to it, wandered around, and managed another one of my fav shots...

The Dirty Dirty South

You'll notice that I've posted the pics larger, hopefully this new format will work for me. This shot is from Ajanta, once one hikes above and behind the main attraction. I've decided to post pictures one wouldn't ordinarily come across. Hopefully this will liven up the stories, later, as I tell them...










Hiking further I stumbled upon a small group of men brewing some corn, what, moonshine I guess.
















Here's Palolem, Goa. My trip down this way included the usual train, bus combination with a bit of hitchhiking mixed in.














Penetrating the Deccan, this shot is from the train somewhere in Tamil Nadu.















The Sri Meenakshi Temple in Madurai.

Ladakh

I just got back from the gym, and I'm in a mood I don't remember having ever experienced. The day was ordinary for sure. I think what triggered these emotions was the events surrounding my trip to the market a moment ago. I was thinking about "Chotu", the 10yr old maintenance man at my "flat". I recently found out that he lives/works here for about 1000 Rs (approx $20 USD) a month or so, a good salary, or at least not bad. His father is a cycle rickshaw driver, which means he lives in a tent at best and is probably lucky to make 50Rs a day, he therefore cannot afford to raise his own son. Chotu works harder and may be the most resourceful 10yr old I've ever seen. He's repaired everything from the swamp cooler and ceiling fan to electrical work. He'll still most likely end up being a virtual slave for this landlord, for life. Currently I'm standing on the balcony people watching. My mood is exasperated by the looming Sanskrit midterm in 2 days. I'm strait nauseated with the knowledge that I stand a very good chance of bombing this thing. Today I wanted to quit.

The Ladakh trip was amazing, no surprise there. The day before we left a monkey broke into our apartment and stole Will's peanuts. It was funny as hell. Everybody thought it would have been even funnier if he had stolen my espresso machine. Ladakh, as the pics show, is as barren as a place can get. We started the trip off by going to Pangong Tso. It's a mountain lake at 14,500 feet. Everything on this trip is at extreme heights. We thought the lake was beautiful, but were in for some surprises yet.

Our next trip was two days in Nubra Valley, via Khardung La, the highest motorable pass in the world or something (17,800 feet if I remember correctly) which until the mid 90's was off limits to tourists (Ladakh is located inside the notorious state of Kashmir and so travel necessitates a permit or is pretty much not allowed). The Nubra Valley ended up being my favorite part of the trip, aside from returning home to Delhi. I think that these photos do even worse a job of showing the real thing than my pics of Yamanotri. The river was grey do to the minerals or whatever. I'm no geologist. It was huge. Probably a mile wide in some spots. There were sand dunes, grey ones and yellow ones. There were ponds in sand dunes. It was amazing. Here's this massive river bed at well over 10K feet elevation. The Himalayas could never be overstated.

In Nubra Valley we stayed in a guest house not far from this Buddhist monastery. There were even baby Buddhists complete with robes and everything, which I thought was interesting. Another trip involved a hike in the Zanskar mountain range. It was pure hell.

Tso Moriri, at 15K feet, was absolutely breathtaking. To get there our driver falsified some documents and claimed we were doing scientific research when confronted at the military check points. You do what you gotta do. The smaller lake on the way up was unbelievable. The pics show what are probably about as close to wild horses and yak as you can get. There were no fences and no people anywhere. The contrasts in this area were forever surreal. The color of the lake, the sand colored mountains, and the snowcapped peaks behind, with the clear blue sky. It was silent. The village we visited was often frequented by nomadic people and was pretty much functioning the way it had been for hundreds, maybe a thousand years.

Tourism is new to this area and it showed. We had to sleep in a tent, and there wasn't anything luxurious about the food either. Noodles and more noodles. And don't get me started on the toilet. Life in Kashmir in general is hard. Delhi is supposedly the 4th most polluted city in the world. This is probably because Ladakh isn't classified a city. The air up there was so dry and so full of dirt that I fought with bloody and muddy "crusties" the whole time.

Returning to Delhi was when the scale and barrenness of Ladakh really sunk in. Delhi looked so green, and so clean. It didn't even hurt to breath. Ladakh doesn't look like India. The people are distinctly Asian though their dress is more of a hybrid Chinese/Punjabi. They speak a different language, of course (everyone does here) and they use a different script. Delhi is what everyone considers to be India, filthy in a different way, colorful and absolutely chaotic. If Ladakh had me wishing I was back in the states already, Delhi reconfirmed my decision to stay a year. It was good to be back. The balcony here at home provides a wonderful opportunity to witness it all. We have no yard, families live stacked three high and side by side. There's always someone out. On the surface it's the filthiest most beautiful place imaginable, but underneath it's absolutely hideous. The other day a woman in Pakistan married one of her 4 abductors, most likely because she would be otherwise ostracized from her home and community and left to fend for herself in a world that would deem her "polluting" and furthermore provides no support for anyone in need. Delhi has been called the rape capital of the world (In today's paper the 3rd assault in 8 days was reported and confirmed). Cops routinely beat people without fear of reprimand (one of our first sights was a cop backhanding a rickshaw driver for stopping curbside to negotiate with us). Unsanitary, inhumane, life in Delhi is hard in a different way.

When I started this letter I had just returned from the market. While I was there I picked up a candy bar for Chotu. He was on my mind because I had been joking with him on my way out and thinking about my new knowledge regarding his destiny (though you can only joke around so much when there's a language barrier). Later, as I finished my dinner on the balcony, I glanced over the rail and saw Chotu standing in the corner out front with his head buried in his arm. He hit the wall with his fist. I was speculating as to what could be the problem because he always looks so happy. Then he looked up and when he busted me he smiled. I forced a smile back in return. Then I cried. Being privileged isn't necessarily easy.

Agra, Amritsar, Jaipur, Udaipur

These select shots are taken from four different cities, Amritsar, Udaipur, Jaipur, and Agra. I'm sure for most of you town names mean nothing. Agra may ring a bell since it is home to the Taj Mahal. Images of the Taj are everywhere and yet it will still take your breath away.

Amritsar is the site of General Dyer's massacre of a thousand plus non-violent activists during India's fight for independence. These visits represent the past three weekends for me. Every trip provided it's own special experiences.

The most moving was without a doubt the Janmashtami celebration. There were some hard times too. Everything from the slavish labor (I watched a man with one arm carry loads of bricks and concrete on his head and dump them into a trailor towering over him, on a Sunday, when the rest of India is shut down, and at 7:30am. His homies were barefoot, he wore some ragged flops) to the "touts". The bus ride between Jaipur and Agra was particularly grueling for me.

Below are a couple of pics from Udaipur and Jaipur respectively.

The ceremony at Wagha in which the Pakistani and Indian flags are lowered in unison generated hope for a cosmopolitan like myself, even amidst some of the most disgusting nationalism one could ever witness.