Home Sweet Home

Home again!  I am sooo happy to be home.

The journey home went smoothly, if not swiftly. I'm pretty much settled back in. I even have one suitcase unpacked! Not bad for me- that puts me approximately 3 weeks ahead of my usual unpacking schedule. One must not be too rash, you know.

I know I should have posted this sooner. I apologize for not doing so, but I've been decompressing. I'm sitting here typing this now because I have an extra hour before church. Seems I forgot to reset my alarm clock for the end of daylight time. Am I the only one who thinks DST is a pain in the butt?

Psychologically, I've been on vacation these last weeks and now it's the weekend. So when does it start feeling like I'm retired? Maybe when I don't go into work on monday I'll begin to adjust to the idea. I don't think it'll be too difficult.

Let me tell you about a brief but very pleasant meeting I had. Back on Tuesday, when I was in the hotel lobby sending off my blog entry from the little internet booth, I heard a woman speaking in an American accent. That was the first time I'd heard that in weeks! Sounded like music to my American english starved ears. (I 'm surprised how few Yanks there were traveling in India.) So, I introduced myself and asked where she was from. Originally, Miami, but she'd been living in Toronto. Her name is Elizabeth and she'd arrived a few days ago and was on her way to northern India. She had just checked-out of the hotel and was waiting for her group to meet before their bus ride to their final destination. They were going to a Buddhist monastery for a spiritual retreat. We talked about that and I told her about my journey and we discussed spirituality briefly. I mentioned I was interested in Buddhism and was planning on learning more when I returned home. She said she had a book that I might like and dashed off. She returned in a few minutes with a little book oddly entitled 'What Makes You Not A Budhist' and gave it to me. I read half of it on the way home and found it very informative. Thank you, Elizabeth, for your generosity. I am totally enjoying the book. Have a great trip. I hope your retreat is a very rewarding experience.

Like I said earlier, you meet the most interesting people on the road.

In case you're wondering, I never got to go to the circus With Mahesh and his family. He got reassigned and I didn't hear back from him. Too bad.

BTW, I promise to try to put up the last of my pictures later today.

Well folks, that pretty much wraps up this account of my Indian adventure. I have really enjoyed sharing with all of you and to be honest, I might not have kept it going if it weren't for your kind encouragement. I am humbled and flattered that you found my words interesting enough to take the time to read. Thank you.

Good bye for now, my friends.

Rick

Goodbye India

In 11 hours, I'll be flying to Korea and from there, home sweet home. I don't think I'll get down and kiss the ground when I get there, but I would if it weren't so unhygenic. I'm thinking I probably will kiss my bed and my shower, and my refrigerator and my high-def TV and my DVR and my toilet... ummm, cancel that last. But you get the idea. Nothing makes one appreciate the finer things in life more than being deprived of them.

If I take away anything from this experience, it will be that we in the USA are so incredibly fortunate. Ours truly is a land of plenty. Those unfortunate people among us who feel they haven't shared in the 'American Dream' should see what poverty really looks like. Here, the poor sleep in the open on hard pavement without even a pot to pee in- literally. No TVs. No cars. No changes of clothes. No food. No nothing. They posess only the rags on their backs. Nobody is there to give them a handout of any sort. I mean no disrespect to India, but honest to God, our so-called poor have a standard of life equal to the lower-middle class here.

Except for the fortunate rich, everyone in India works incredibly hard and for long hours to get by. Even the beggars are hustling in what, here, is a profession. Nobody gets a free ride. And yet, they remain gracious and good natured.

It is a different world. Not better or worse, just different. I've learned that when you come here you should leave your judgments at home. Take India on it's own terms. In a material sense, our standard of living is orders of magnitude higher, but as far as I could see, Indians enjoy a quality of life Americans could only wish for. People who have jobs are grateful to have them. They have strong family ties. Our divorce rate is 50 percent- they don't even have one worth measuring. While our cancer rate is in the 40 percentile, theirs is around 4 percent. I read their newspapers most days and I don't recall a single instance of anyone shooting kids in schools. Imagine that!

I have experienced absolutely no resentment from anyone here. Even though, from their perspective, I am fabulously wealthy. Not even a whiff of any "Yankee go home" sort of business. I can't say that about my travels around my own country. On the contrary, folks went out of their way to be warm and hospitable. Sometimes so much so that it was downright embarrassing. For example, I was standing outside a palace admiring the building when two young guys approached me and asked where I was from. This has happened uncountable times since I've been here. (How do you suppose they know I'm from out of town?) Anyway, they were so overwhelmed that they were talking to a real live American from California, they started hugging me and putting their heads on my shoulders and calling to their friends to look. I'm ashamed to say it, but the thought crossed my mind that my pockets were about to get picked, but no, they were just nice guys who were happy to meet a foreigner. I've been asked many times, with genuine sincerity, if I have been enjoying India. They want their guests to be happy and they feel individually responsible that you do. And its been like that from day one. Indians would sooner open a vein than be rude to a guest in their country.

BTW, those young guys weren't gay. It is customary for men to show affection for each other physically. I don't mean kissing, but hand holding or walking arm-in-arm. That sort of thing. Its a little disconcerting at first until you get with the program. Conversely, there is NO physical contact between the sexes in public. In private, well, you do the math- there are a billion of them, lol.

There's another quirky little thing Indians do that still throws me a curve. Instead of nodding their heads up and down like we do to indicate a "yes", they sort of waggle their heads left-right. To the uninitiated, it looks like a no. Sometimes they give it an abbreviated tilt to one side that apparently means "of course", but looks to me like "who gives a crap?" This lack of savvy on my part has lead to some amusing who's-on-first sort of exchanges.

So, before I go, I'd like to say, "Thank you, India, for your hospitality and your generosity of spirit. Thank you for your many little kindnesses and your enthusiastic eagerness to help an oft-times befuddled traveler stumble his way through your amazing country. I've had a wonderful visit.
Fare well."

And to the rest of you- I'll let you know that I've arrived home safe and sound when I get there. Once I'm done kissing appliances.

Back in Delhi

I've been all over the map these last few days. Saw some more awesome Hindu temples built in the 12th and 13th centuries in Hassan. They are covered with unbelievably intricate carvings which surpass anything I've seen this far. By this time, the artists were at their pinnacle and it really shows. They were working with soapstone which comes out of the ground soft and gradually hardens in the air. I guess that's how they managed to get such fine detail into their work.

Then we were off to Mysore, which is the nicest city I've seen here. Wide, tree-lined streets and clean, too. I was supposed to see the world's largest monolithic statue on the way, but when I found out that you have to climb 500 stairs to see it, I vetoed that idea! Who's idea was it to put the thing up there, anyhow?

Mysore is called the 'City of Palaces' and it does have some beauties. I went into one that was built by the last maharaja in 1912 and it was quite a place indeed. Like Mel Brooks said, its good to be the king. At least I think it was him who said it. Mysore is one of the few places you can buy genuine sandalwood products, so I got some there at the palace's gift shop.

We went up to the top of Chamundi Hill to see the Parvati Temple, which is still in use. Boy, was it ever! I think there was about a million devotees there. It was quite a scene. I took the opportunity to refresh myself with another coconut juice cocktail and enjoyed the pandemonium around me.
On the way down the hill, I saw a wild mongoose enjoying some roadkill! Big deal for me. After all, when was the last time you saw a mongoose in the road?

Finally, I saw the ruined fort of Tipu Sultan, aka the Tiger of Mysore. It seems sometime after we got done kicking the arse of General Lord Cornwallis, King George sent him to India to get on Tipu's case. Didn't go so well for Cornie here, either. It took four wars against ol' Tipu before the Brits finally killed him and subjugated his sons. But he put up one hell of a fight! Fact is, if the Brits weren't preoccupied with their problems in India, they might have sent more troops to America, and we never would have beat them. As King George put it, when the manor house is on fire, you don't concern yourself with extinguishing the outhouse.

Believe it or not, I stayed in a Howard Johnson's in Mysore. And no, the roof was not orange.

Due to a minor error in my itinerary, I'm back in Delhi a day early. No biggie. Flew up here on Kingfisher Airlines, which is owned by the Kingfisher Beer magnate. Oddly enough, they don't serve beer onboard! But their service was first rate. I was met at the airport entrance and personally escorted through the check-in and security procedures by an airline rep and put on the plane ahead of everyone else. I asked him why I was getting such special service and he said "Because you are from America". He told me earlier that America is his "dream country". You gotta love these people.

So this afternoon, I went to the National Museum and saw some cool artifacts from around 3000 B.C., as well as a lot of other things. I love old stuff like that. Guess it makes me feel young.

Tomorrow, I get to sightsee around Old Delhi, which should be fun.

My Delhi driver is a nice fella named Mahesh. (I wish they'd get easier to remember names here, like Joe or Bob). His hometown is up north in the foothills of the Himalayas and he invited me to stay there with him and his family the next time I come to India. Turns out I have an open day on thursday and noticed that the Russian circus is in town, so invited my driver and his family to go to the circus with me.

I'm really looking forward to returning home, if not the flight to get there.

Later

First of all, nothing happened with the two British ladies. They were nice, elderly ladies. Even more elderly than me. You people!

Secondly, this software doesn't have a spell checker, so please forgive my semi-literate writhing.

I don't have anything special to report today. I have noted something interesting, however. We've been driving on a lot of backroads lately and there are a lot of women cruising around carrying things on their heads. That in itself is impressive. They carry everything on their noggins- luggage, multiple vessels of water, firewood, crops, lumber, furniture, kitchenware and even 24" TV's.

Having keen powers of observation, I have discerned that they adopt a peculiar gait while doing so. Apparently in order to provide a stable platform for their load, they minimize the movement in the upper portion of their bodies. According to Newtonian physics, that energy must be disipated elsewhere. In this case it moves southward, resulting in a very alluring movement of the gluteous maximus. This is only a hypothesis, mind you, and will require additional observations with a larger sample. A lot more. I know, I know, but somebody has to do it.

As I've mentioned, we've been on a lot of backroads lately. Which I prefer. Lots more interesting people and things to see. Slice of life stuff. Moms washing naked kids at the water well. Folks drying corn in their front yard. Women carrying water home on their heads (while their hips gently sway). Women scrubbing clothes on big blocks of stone, little girls driving herds of buffalos a thousand times their size. And always, men discussing important business.

The scenery is mostly tropical and agricultural. Beautiful fields being tended by farmers driving ox-drawn plows. People loading up carts impossibly high and wide with sugar cane. Acres and acres of bananas, sugar cane, coconut palms, rice paddies and betel nut trees. Gorgeous. Like a postcard. Weather is here, wish you were beautiful.

I just read a quote from someone who's name I can't remember, but he got it just right:
Life is a book. Those who don't travel need only read one page.

Later.

Blessed By a Two-Ton Goddess

I've been looking forward to Hampi since I discovered it on the internet some time ago. And it hasn't let me down.

Hampi was the capital city of India's largest and most powerful Hindu empire. It ruled during the 14th and 15th centuries. It was an international trading center and was one of the richest cities in the world at the time. All that came to a screeching halt when a confederation of Muslim kings came down and kicked their butts. Even with miles-long wagon trains, it took them six months to haul all the loot out of the city.

Today, it's ruins are vast and impressive. Many temples, forums, trader's stalls and royal palaces still remain to be seen. I spent yesterday afternoon and most of today meandering all over it with my trusty guide, Shiva.

Yesterday, we went to a "living" temple, as they call one still in use, and I met and fell in love with Lakshmi, goddess of money. Well, actually, she's just named after the goddess Lakshmi, but she's still beautiful. Unfortunately, my love for her was doomed as she is an elephant and I don't date outside my species. Normally. But that didn't stop her from bestowing upon me her blessings. That was one of the highlights of my trip, in fact. Until I realized what was really going on. Apparently, anyone who walks up to her and offers her a coin gets the same treatment! I felt so used. I watched, deflatedly, as she took money from perfect strangers, handed it to her pimp, and laid her lithe trunk upon the head of the blessee.

I got over my disappointment when I saw the coracles! These are little round bowl-shaped boats made out of a bamboo frame and covered on the outside with burlap and pitch. I expressed my desire to go out in one of these and Shiva negotiated a little scenic trip on the river for us. Whohoo, I forgot all about Lakshmi. Our teen aged boat wallah paddled us along and we stopped and got out here and there to see points of interest. It was cool.

By this time it was getting toward dusk and the skeeters were waking-up. Not wanting to test my malaria medicine, we headed back to the car. On the way, Shiva spotted a millipede. They grow 'em big here, folks. About the size of of a cigar. Got a picture of me holding the big fella that should send shivers up some spines. He tickled, really.

At the parking lot, we found a crowd gathered around a young lady who looked about my daughter's age. Apparently, she was trying to get to the train station about 15 km away and was sorta stranded. In these parts, thats cause for the whole village to turn out and try to figure out how to help. The station happened to be right near my hotel, so we rescued her and gave her a lift. Her name is Annaka and it turns out she is German and has been here 5 times. She was living in a cave near Hampi for the last 2 weeks. You meet the most interesting people on the road.

Today, we saw the rest of Hampi. Mostly the royal complex, where oddly enough, the royal family lived. Coincidence? You decide. Anyway, at one point, we spotted a coconut wallah so I bought us a couple o' nuts. The wallah whacked the top off the coconut with a machete and poped a straw into it. Voila, you have a refreshing tropical drink. I was surprised at how much juice there was inside- must have been more than a pint. After finishing that off, the wallah then took another whack at it and, using the part he chopped off, fashioned a spoon with which to scoop the meat out. Neat trick. The meat, like the juice, isn't like what we're used to, either. Its thin and soft and doesn't get stuck in your teeth. Yumm. Gonna get me some more of those.

Right nearby was a chai wallah with a little kitchen-in-a-wagon. (FYI: a wallah is a guy who does whatever it is that comes before the word wallah). My guide bought us some chai and it was the best yet.

As long as I'm on the subject of food, I had lunch at a place called The Mango Tree. It's all outdoors and clings to the side of a hill overlooking the river and some rice paddies. Its under a great big mango tree. Parrots are flying around. Everyone sits on bamboo mats and eats off little kindergarten-sized tables. The food was as good as the setting. Oh yeah, you have to walk through a jungley banana plantation to get there.

There are these little paan booths all over India. I asked my driver what paan was. He explained that it is a concoction of betel nut and other odd condiments wrapped up in a leaf. Its then chewed and the juice spat out. Supposed to aid digestion, make you sexually verile and give you a buzz, to boot. And it makes your teeth and tongue red. Whats not to like? I wanted some. My guide and driver thought that sounded like fun, so the two of them took me to a stand and got me setup. I think they took pity on me and told the paan wallah to make mine sweet and weak. And they gave me the kind that doesn't require spitting. It tasted good, but my mouth didn't turn red and I didn't notice any sort of buzz. Bummer.

After Lakshmi, my favorite thing in Hampi was the Vittala Temple. In this temple are a hundred little columns that, when tapped on, ring to various musical notes! Nobody knows how they did this and they can't reproduce the effect today. My guide was something of a virtuoso on these columns and we had a ball. Afterwards he mentioned that we were not supposed to do that, and sent me over to apply a small amount of 'grease' to the palms of the guards who had been observing our little concert.

Please don't tell anyone.

Random Stuff

So, today I'm sitting in front of my hotel here in Badami just watching the world go by and this old man walks up to be and asks in broken english "How is India for you, sir?" I say I love it. He says "How are the India people for you, Sir?" I say they are very kind. He says "How is the climate for you?" I say its hot. He says "How are your meals?" I say delicious and rub my stomach. He says "Thank you very much, sir", snaps me a salute and ambles off.

Then, two familiar faces 'get down' (as they say here) off the bus and into my hotel! Took me a moment to place them, but then it came to me. While having dinner back in Matheran, these two Brittish ladies were seated at the table next to me. We had exchanged pleasantries.

Later, as I was debating where to have lunch, they came into the lobby, so I asked them if they would like to join me. It was a good opportunity for me to practice my english, which is getting rusty. They accepted and we went into the hotel's 'restaurant'. I ordered a (giant) bottle of Kingfisher beer and a thali- you know, one of those big silver platters with all the little silver bowls on it? They each had grilled sandwiches and lemon sodas and deserts. Being the big spender that I am, I sprang for the tab- Rs250 ($4.89), including tip. What a guy.

The food is as incredibly inexpensive here as it is delicious. For example, this morning for breakfast, I had two idles (kind of a rice dumpling) and a vadai (a spiced doughnut sort of thing) with spicy sauces to put on them and a glass of chai for Rs26 ($.59). I hope they don't figure out how cheap this is and raise their prices!

India is famous for it's spices. Some of which we, in the USA, have hardly even heard of. And each spice can be prepared in a number of ways, depending on the desired flavor. This they do fresh at mealtime. Then they blend the spices together and create concoctions that send my taste buds into spasms of ectasy. I know I'm going off the deep end here, but I can't help it. BTW, Christopher Columbus might never have found America if he hadn't been looking for a fast way to India's black pepper market, so I'm not the only one.

Here are some random tidbits I found interesting:
Peanuts are called monkey nuts. Not sure if thats an anatomical reference. More research needs to be done.
Cats are considered bad luck if they cross your path. If one does, you have to wait for some fool to go ahead of you first so he absorbs the bad luck and not you.
Indian toilet paper could probably give a rhino a rash.
You don't dim your high beams, nor do you insert your ATM card, you dip them.
A banana costs one rupee. About 2 cents.
They drive on the wrong side of the road, like in England.
Electric light switches can be found just about anywhere in a room except next to the doorway.
When you look into a toilet on a train, you see daylight.
Drivers tuck-in the sideview mirrors on their cars. Yeah, they get that close to each other.
In addition to "Coke" and "OK", another universal phrase is "oh shit".
Road sign across the street from a hospital: "Hospital ceilings are boring. Drive carefully".
If someone comes up to you and hands you a baby and runs, you just became a parent.

I want to thank everyone who has emailed me and offered their positive comments concerning my musings, especially since doing so calls into question your taste in prose. Keep those cards and letters comming.

Off the Rails in Matheran

Hi All,

I'm gonna jump ahead to my excursion to Matheran. Matheran is about 45 miles east of Mumbai (Bombay, to you geographically challenged folks). In the old days before air conditioning, the Brits sought out nice sites on top of the taller mountains of India upon which to build their bungalows in order to escape the searing heat of the plains. They called them "hill stations". Matheran is one such place. Eventually, some of the more popular hill stations built narrow gauge railroads to make the climb. They called these "toy trains". The Matheran toy train was my main interest in visiting there.

Well, my driver was way late picking me up and I had to be at the train station at 9:00 or I'd miss the toy train, so you could imagine my angst when 9:00 rolled around and we were still a half hour away from the station. I was wondering what the penalty was for murder here in India and calculating whether or not I could get away with it, when we pulled into the train station. As it turns out, last year's monsoon caused a couple landslides which took parts of the railroad down the mountain. Bummer. At least the driver got a reprieve.

So, we drove to the parking lot that sits about two miles from the town and he let me off there. After paying my 25 rupee "capitation tax", I was bombarded with offers for horseback rides and rickshaw rides to the top of the hill. Turns out that no automobiles or bicycles are permitted on the hill! I'm still wondering what the hell possesed me to strap on my backpack and go it by foot. My foot, at that! About a mile into this Everest-like endevour, I was really thinking those rickshaws looked kinda fine. Funny thing though, I noticed that the higher I climbed, the cooler and shadier it got. I stuck it out and eventually made it to my destination- Lord's Central Hotel. I got checked in, had lunch, washed it down with one of those huge bottles of beer the Indians are so fond of, and promptly passed out for an hour or so.

After I got up, I took another walk. (Yes, folks, this is me talking about walking!!) I went out and explored the town and found it to be the most charming little 'berg so far encountered in this sub-continent. I love it. Its like the old west on curry. The streets are all dirt (red dirt) and everyone is tooling around on horseback. True, there were no monkeys in Deadwood. More's the pity for Deadwood.

Matheran is on top of a 2400' high hilltop and its kind of long and narrow. Its covered with what they call a jungle, but it looks like a forest to me. Its quiet and cool and clean. Lotts of birds singing. India is not a clean place. There's tons of trash everywhere I've been, but not up here. Clean as a whistle. There's around 4500 people living here full time plus probably more tourists than that at any one time during season.

Since the RR washed out, everything has to be packed in my horse or cart. Oddly, they use people, not horses to pull the carts. I saw around ten guys fighting a cart laden with dozens of cartons of water bottles up the hill. Must have weighed thousands of pounds. They look like wirey, skinny people, but I wouldn't want to play tug-of-war with them! My God, they have to be stronger than weight lifters, pound for pound! BTW, while I was staggering up the hill with a 30 pound pack on my back, little OLD ladies with 4 or 5 suitcases balanced on their heads were blowing my doors off. I couldn't help notice the good-natured little grins on their faces when they blazed past me. At least they didn't offer to help me.

Along the main thoroughfare in town is a wonderful little bazzar where you can get all sorts of little yummy things and lots of hand made things. Especially shoes. The local folks are so friendly- you can't go 25' without someone greeting you with the customary 'allo. I like to surprise them with a 'namaskar' reply, which really cracks them up. And they love to have their pictures taken- especially when you show them the picture you just took. They laugh at their image and then everyone else wants their picture taken. Before you know it, there's a crowd of laughing smiling people around you. It's really heart-warming.

Mrs. Lord, my hostess is a very charming and hospitable lady of mature years. She and her staff will do anything they can for the comfort of their guests. The hotel itself is a little run-down at the heels, but full of the sort of charm you won't find at some fancy place. Just the kind of place I love. The grounds are jammed full of beautiful plants and kept in perfect order. There is one older fella who's job, as far as I can tell, is to keep the monkeys at bay. They are all over the place, but they don't belong where the guests are, as they can be aggressive at times.

Mrs. Lord told me delightful stories about life in Matheran. Makes me want to move there. She also told me what the monsoons are like and that they're something to experience! This last one brought a record 36" of rain in one day! A little girl she knows told her that God must have fallen asleep with the tap left on.

Next day, I lost my head again and decided to take another walk. I went out to Echo Point. Lame echo, but beautiful views! On the way, I met several troops of monkeys who graciously allowed me to pass. From there I decided to take the long way back. Longer than I expected, too, 'cause I missed a turn in the path and went around twice before I realized I was going in circles. Doh! I just love it when I do stupid things like that. 2 1/2 hours I walked- all uphill it seemed like. I started getting real nervous after a while because it was getting toward lunchtime and I didn't want to miss one of Mrs. Lord's four-course gourmet meals. Rest easy, Dear Reader, I made it in time.

After lunch, I took a little snooze (don't nag me, Jamie) and packed my bags for the trip down the mountain. I chose to go by rickshaw and give my achin' dogs a break. Talk about feeling a little conspicuous, but what the hey- you only live once (at a time).

So, even though I didn't get to ride the toy train, I did discover my most favorite place in India. So far, that is. Just goes to show ya, there's a reason for everything.

Catch Up

On the 25th dawn found me sitting at the centerline of the reflecting pool watching the first rays of sunlight play across the Taj Mahal. That's a birthday present I won't forget. Pictures just can't do it justice, but I took lots of them anyway.

After visiting the Taj, our group headed back to Delhi. It was a fun ride. Jamie, Georgia and Gerry sang happy birthday to me, ala Marilyn Monroe, which was great! They did it three times because I was trying to video them doing it and kept screwing it up! Ayway, thats my story, and I'm sticking to it.

That night, Rod and company surprised me at dinner with a nice birthday cake! The hotel staff served it with the candles on the side- unlit, LOL. I don't think they're privy to that particular aspect of American culture. We all had a good laugh.

The next evening, my friends in the tour group went and flew off to the good ol' US of A and left me here to fend for myself. It won't be the same, but thats ok. I will miss them and the fun we had. Good bye, guys!

While travelling with the group, I worked out an itinerary with the group's travel agent, Dilip. He's a great guy and worked hard to put things together for me. He lined up all my hotels, and secured all the train and plane tickets that I'll need. And at each train station, he'll have a car and driver waiting to whisk me away. I feel like royalty!

So, after the group left, I checked into a Delhi hotel for the night and next morning took the train to Jhansi, where I was met by the local travel agent and my driver. Off to Orcha, a nice quiet town with some temples and a big fort. Spent the night there and in the morning, drove to Khajuraho, which has one of the largest and most famous temple complexes in the world. They were amazing! Each are several stories tall with thousands of delicately carved statuettes all over them. Some of the carvings are "torn from the pages" of the Kama Sutra. Pictures to follow.

In the morning, uh correction: before dawn, I was met by my driver and local agent in an open jeep and taken to the Panna Tiger Reserve national park. Sort of a drive-thru jungle. You wouldn't want to walk through it as you'd be toward the lower end of the food chain. I didn't really expect to see a tiger, and didn't, but it was well worth it as we saw lotsa other animals. We arrived at the reserve just at sunrise and picked up a government guide, Ram, who had the eyes of an eagle. This guy could spot even the most well camoflaged animals and boy, did he know his critters! Thanks to Ram, I saw Antelope, a wild boar, summer deer (tiger fast-food), spotted deer, lots of lemurs, a red wild dog (which was stalking a big buck at the time) and Golden Silk Spiders, which are the size of your hand! We also saw some exotic birds including many parrots. And one big-ass crocodile gliding down the river, which he said was rare to see!

That afternoon, we made the five-hour drive back to Jhansi to catch the overnight train to Varanassi. And I'm still here to talk about it. Imagine, if you will, passing every known conveyance, in and out of traffic on a two lane road, dodging buffalo, bicycles, pedestrians and god knows what else every 45 seconds for 5 hours. My particular favorite is a manouver I lovingly call The Indian Double-Pass. This involves overtaking a vehicle, which itself is overtaking another vehicle, on a two lane road with no discernable shoulders. Extra spice is added when the front of a huge truck is growing noticably larger in your windshield.

But, when night falls, that's when the real fun starts. Oh yeah. You see, Indians apparently wish to conserve their headlights and don't turn them on unnecessarily, like when it gets dark. And if they do use them, it highbeams only, baby. And of course, the pedestrians, bicycles and village livestock don't wear any sort of running lights. Its quite the thrill to be passing and find something immediately in front of you in the dark. And seat belts are hard to find, not that they would be much help, but it would make it easier to recover the bodies.

All that being said, Indian drivers are undisputed masters of depth perception and timing. They routinely pull off manouvers that I wouldn't even dream of trying, and they do it with panache, all the while displaying a calm, passive demeanor.

The secret to road travel, I've learned, is to sit behind the driver, so you can't see out of the windshield and let the man do what he's good at and not think about the consequences, if he isn't.

The Doctor Makes a Housecall

Hi Everyone,
Its been hectic this last week as our group has been on the road. Internet access has been hard to find.
Back on the 23rd, we wound up in the little village of Bandarej. After being on the road all day and looking forward to arriving at our hotel, we were a little perplexed when our bus stopped in the middle of the village and we were asked to offload. It seems that our great white whale of a bus couldn't negotiate the twisty little streets of the village. But we were delighted when we realized that the camel carts which were hanging around were there to haul us up to our hotel on the the top of the hill.

Half the village turned out for the event and we proceeded, parade-like through the village. There must have been 50 men, women and children all laughing, clapping and waving us along!
The folks here in India are the warmest, most kind hearted people you could ever hope to meet.
After getting settled in, we had dinner and then we were entertained by a group of local musicians and dancers and a marionette show.
After dinner, I celebrated by jamming a splinter up under the fingernail of my right middle finger. It went almost all the way to the cuticle. And then it broke off far enough in so I couldn't get at it with tweezers. How, you may be asking, did I do something as dumb as that. It was real easy. I was tucking the bed sheets in between the thing they call a mattress and the ancient plywood platform it laid on. I expressed my appreciation for the furnishings and, realizing there was nothing that could be done about it, went to bed.
Next day we pulled into Agra and after checking into our hotel, some of us went to see the Red Fort, which was cool.
By now, I was getting attached to my splinter, which I came to realize, was a great device for getting attention and sympathy. But, all good things must come to an end and upon returning to the hotel, Dilip, our tour guide call a doctor. The doctor offered to come to my hotel room and in a few minutes, he showed up with an assistant in tow.
I knew I was in for a real treat when the doctor's eyes got kinda large when he saw what he was up against. He held my finger and a flashlight and gave instructions to the assistant, who did all the work. He had steady hands, thank God.
They decided to give the ol' tweezers a shot, to no avail. Then my eyes got kinda big when they pulled a good sized scalpel out of the bag! Well, they got to whittling away on my fingernail and still no joy. BTW, they didn't use a local anesthetic because they were concerned I might have an adverse reaction to it. But I had the moral support of my friends and so we forged on.
By now, they had carved a sort of vee shape deep into the nail to try and get at the sucker from the end. That strategy was unsuccessful, so they decided to bisect the nail down the middle and attack it from the top. After several minutes of that, the Doc felt that there was no splinter; it must have remained with the plywood when I pulled my hand away. But, just to make sure, he was going to go a little further. Delighted to hear that, was I.
But, in just another minute, voila, he produced a respectable hunk of lumber from my digit.
Noting Rod's bottle of Jack Daniels nearby and my palid complection, the good doctor prescribed a couple fingers of Jack. Now, thats what I call doctoring! He also gave me some antibiotics and pain killers which I fortunately didn't need.
So, what do you suppose it costs for two doctors, a housecall and drugs? Would you believe 1000 rupees ($20)?! Our guides couldn't believe it when I told them it would have cost around $2000 for an emergency room visit in the States.
It is now several days later and my finger is healing nicely with no sign of infection. But this bandaid makes it hard to eat with the fingers of my right hand, in accordance with local custom. I probably wasn't fooling anyone, anyway.
So, bye for now. I uploaded lots of good pictures so check em out.
Later.

Snakes and Elephants and Camels, Oh My!

The day before yesterday started out rainy, but that wasn't enough to put a damper on our collective spirit. We climbed on our nice plush bus destined for Pushkar, with a few stops along the way. First stop was the Palace of Winds in Jaipur to shoot a few pics, but the main attraction for me was the trio of snake charmers across the street. We schmoozed with them for a bit and took some great pictures.

Moving on, we visited the Amber Fort, also in Jaipur. Construction on this fort/palace began a thousand years ago. Amazingly, its still in great condition. It sits atop a hill and commands the road below in a narrow valley. Its a long uphill walk to the top of that hill. Or, you can go by elephant which is just what we did! Traveling by 'phant is different. While it is a way cool means of transportation, the ride isn't particularly sedate. From a distance, those big fellas look like they're just gliding along. But in reality, riding one is sorta like being in a cement mixer. You're up so high that when they take a baby step, the applied trigonometry moves your short side of the triangle about a yard. That is not a complaint, mind you. Their herky-jerky gait is trumped by the fact that you're actually sitting on an elephant. I want to be a mahoot and drive my own elephant.

The fort was beautiful, built in a fusion of Hindu and Muslum styles. Very posh. Complete with a compliment of red-faced monkeys. The sun came out and dazzled the polished white marble everywhere.

We didn't think the day could get any better, but when we arrived in the very holy town of Pushkar, we discovered that our accommodations were tents! Big, comfortable tents with toilets. In the desert. Like (upscale) nomads. Most excellent, we thought. Can't get any better than this! Wrong again.

We couldn't help notice the gang of camels hanging out in front of our tents. Yup. Our camels! We tossed our bags into our tents and seconds later we were cameled-up and headin out. Whoohoo! Off into the desert for a moonlight camel ride with strains of "Midnight on the Oasis" playing in our little heads. (Well, it would have been a moonlight ride if the moon had been out. Minor meteorological technicality). Along the way we passed an encampment of gypsies and their kids came over to gawk and wave hello. I tossed a little girl a tootsie-pop and you'd have thought it was a diamond bracelet the way she light-up.

We were so pumped by the great day we'd had. We all went up to the grassy sitting area to relax and have a beer or two. Someone asked how could this day get any better and I jokingly replied "Bring on the dancing girls". Believe it or not, within 5 minutes a troupe of local tribal musicians and dancing girls arrived and set up right in front of us for our exclusive benefit! My gast was flabbered. Wow, did they put on a show! They were so beautiful in their traditional costumes and they just danced and danced.

How could you beat a day like that?

This is Rod, my roommate.

(I sleep with my third eye open)

Actually, Rod is a great guy. And he has been doing an excellent job working with our group leader in helping us get acclimated to our surroundings. He's also terrific at organizing outtings. He has a great sense of humor (ie: he laughs at my jokes) and he's housebroken, too. What more could you ask for in a roomie?

On another note, we've finished-up our week of ayurveda therapy with an hour long deep body massage, steam bath and a hair treatment. This last was most interesting. It involved first having a vigorous scalp massage. Then a sticky brown paste-like concoction is applied to the hair. The head is then wrapped in a portion of someone's old bed linen. As a group, we made quite the fashion statement. Imagine, if you will, an assemblage of bikers, pirates and one very pale Aunt Jemima.

We were instructed to leave the head covering on for an hour, obstensibly to let the herbal preparation soak in. In retrospect, I'm now certain the real intent was to avoid frightening the locals.

Having endured an hour's worth of catcalls and smarmy comments regarding our headgear, we raced to our rooms in breathless anticipation anxious to strip these dew-rags, rinse our hair and behold our now glorious manes. Incidentally, it is interesting to note that the aforementioned paste has surprisingly strong adhesion qualities.

Once the cloth was peeled away from the head, what remained could best be described as a custom fitted cow pie. We were allowed to rinse it off (but no shampoo until tomorrow). Having rinsed, imagine my surprise when I looked into the mirror at found that my grey hair had mysteriously been replaced with some shade of yellow which I have no words to describe. Its starting to grow on me. And the others tell me that it doesn't look bad, at least that's what they say when I'm standing there. I'm curious how long the effect will last, but haven't inquired. I'm just going with it.

But, even beyond the fashion benefits of ayurveda, we all feel better. We're a few pounds lighter, (and working feverishly to fix that), healthier and happier. Folks are already reporting improvements with ongoing health issues. We've been given herbs and preparations to take and the prospect of long term improvements is promising.

I hope everyone back home is doing well. I miss you all, but to be honest, I'm having to much fun to dwell on it for long. Keep the home fires burning and I'll see you before you know it.

PS: I've put up a bunch of new pictures, so enjoy.

Celebrity Status

Today four of us slipped out to visit the zoo, but were distracted by the Prince Albert Hall across the street. We went to investigate and discovered that it is a museum so we went in. The entry fee was a whopping 30 rupees (65 cents). How could we go wrong?

The place was crawling with school kids on outings. About half a dozen girls broke away from their group, eyeballing us. I'd guess they were in 8th grade or so. Anyway, they approached us like the proverbial giggling school girls and asked where we were from. We told them and they were so excited to meet us. They asked if they could take our picture! Of course, we said sure and then I took their picture and they all giggled some more. One of them got up the nerve to ask if any of us had US money because she collects foreign coins. Thats her story and she's sticking to it, lol. Georgia dug out a quarter and gave it to her and you'd have thought it was gold. Then I produced a lollypop and gave it to one girl and they all laughed. They really cracked up as I pulled out more of them one by one until they all had one.

I think we really made their day. I know they made ours.

French Fried and Bleary Eyed

So, we've been getting these ayurveda treatments everyday and will continue to do so until we've had seven. Ayurveda is the world's most ancient system of natural health care. The goal of the treatments is to restore balance and re-establish calm and harmony in the body. Its all about deep cleansing and purification of the body, mind and soul. Herbalized oils are used in all sorts of ways to do this.

Today's treatment involved me lying on my back, starkers, while they built a little dam around my eyes, think diving mask. Then they poured very warm ghee (clarified butter) over my eyes and told me to open them. Wierd. After the butter solidified somewhat, it was drawn off and fresh ghee added. Repeat as necessary. This went on for about an hour. I now smell like a cressant. Its a couple hours later and I'm still waiting for my vision to clear up. Allll righty you say, but some of the folks in our group have been here before and this treatment improved their eyesight and removed astigmatisms. We shall see, pun intended.

After that, they brought in a little one-burner gas stove and heated up a frying pan of oil. It started sizziling and I'm thinking, "Oh boy, we're gonna have french fries". Ah, the bliss of ignorance. Well, imagine my surprise when the guy dips this pad into the oil and starts beating the hell out of me with it! But don't worry, this pad has a handle on it so HE doesn't burn his hand. OK for him. If you know what a printer's inking pad looks like, then you've got some idea of the thing. He takes it, dips it into the sizzling oil and bam, bam, bam goes up and down on my delicate pinkness. And yes, it did burn like hell, but after about 5 or 6 whacks it was comfortable. That was his clue to dip it again and sear me some more. Up one leg, then up the other. I'm thinking about where this trajectory is leading to and getting real nervous. Thank God he didn't go there, but he did persue the rest of my body with heroic vigor.

Then, there was a great deep body massage, with about three quarts of herbal oil. That was my favorite part. I feel like eelish.

Unfortunately, they don't leave one to bask in the afterglow. Oh, no, no, no. They have an apparently inexhaustable supply of oil and a finite number of body parts to use it on and/or in. Even places where the sun doesn't shine, so to speak. We're talking real deep clensing here, folks. Funny, but I don't recall that little factoid being featured on the brochure. At least it wasn't hot. In an attempt to retain the last shred of my dignity, I shall change the subject.

Some of the other procedures were equally interesting. One involved dripping oil into the upturned nostrils. Coulda done without that one. Another found me inhaling herbal smoke from something resembling a roach into the nostrils. I'm thinking this was an attemp to singe every last nose hair into oblivion. If so, it worked beautifully.

The people's choice award goes to the Third Eye Therapy. This was truly wonderful. They hang a pot of very warm oil (sensing a theme, here are ya?) over your head and let out a continuous little stream onto your forehead while swinging it back and forth pendulum style. Totally zones you out.

BTW, my personal favorite is the steam bath. While laid out on the massage table, they cover you with a wooden framework from the neck down. (Think upside down canoe). They cover this frame with a heavy blanket and then pump hot steam into this tent. Its sooo relaxing and boy, do your pores open up. Niagra time.

I know this all sounds so glamorous, but it is serious business. And somehow, it works. Would people continue doing it for three thousand years if it didn't?

God, I hope so.

Diggi House

A few words about our accommodations. Its called Diggi House and its a mere couple hundred years old. Its part of the Maharajah of Jaipur's palace. In these parts, its very well known and is a favorite hide-away for well-heeled Indians. Lots of Europeans, too.
The Maharajah lives here too, along with his extended family. I haven't met him yet, though I see him around. I've met his heir, Tutu, who is a very hospitable gent. We had a nice conversation in which he told us about his arranged marriage, the recent death of his brother-in-law and the funerary customs. And I have met the Maharajah's wife, Lady Jodika, several times as she oversees the whole palace. She's in line to be the matriarch of the family once her mother-in-law moves on. She is a very attractive lady. Most dignified and gracious. She is always there to make sure her guests are comfortable and happy. For example, she heard some of our group was interested in seeing a polo match. The Maharajah just happens to maintain a stable of polo ponies, so she and her husband have just taken some of our group to a polo match he is involved in. I bet they're not sitting in the cheap seats, either.

Yesterday, she invited several of us to see the grand hall where they entertain, hold weddings and ceremonies. The inside Its beautifully painted all over with floral designs in paint made of powdered gem stones. Over two hundred years old and it looks like it was just done. The walls have photos and paintings of the preceding maharajahs going back over several generations. I put a couple pictures of the hall online but they don't do it justice.

While we were in there, Lady Jodika explained what life is like living together in an extended royal family. There is a strict hierarchy and everyone knows their place. When a male relative of her husband enters the room, she will cover her face with her veil as a sign of respect. The women don't speak directly to men other than their husband or to other women of a higher status, unless spoken to. If there is a dispute, the matriarch will hear the complaint and adjudicate it. She said to westerners, this sounds backward, but it maintains an orderly disciplined and harmonious household. She wouldn't have it any other way.

While the Maharajah has no legal power anymore, he still is a man of great influence and a mover and a shaker, politically. He is also a significant land-owner. The palace alone sits on 18 acres in the middle of Jaipur City, which is the capital of Rajastan. You can imagine the real estate value of that alone.

The grounds are kept beautifully. We are completely walled in, and its like an oasis of peace surrounded by the craziness just outside. There is a large lawn in front of the entrance where the guests relax. There are peacocks, parrots and all sorts of birds I've never seen before. I love watching these crazy little squirrels that run all over like maniacs. They don't look like our squirrels, but are more like chipmonks on steroids. One can also stroll around the grounds and see wild monkeys cavorting in the trees. There is also a small dairy where we get our buttermilk (yum) from and of course the polo pony stable. And lots of geckos decorating the walls.

The palace is old, but oddly, not palatial. A palace in those days was also a fort and had to be defensable, so all the walls are thick, the doors and windows small. There are massive gateways that protect the court yards and more gateways to protect the inner court yards. All the guestrooms are unique. Some a large, some are small, but all of them are special. Everywhere, the floor is inlaid marble tile. The architecture is like something out of Ali Babba and the 40 thieves. I could live here. (Kids: sell the furniture). Building codes being unheard of then as now, the plumbing and electrical systems are particularly creative.

And then there is the food. I am ruined for America's Indian restaurants. I used to think I loved Indian food, but, heh, now I know what it really tastes like! Everything is made fresh and from natural ingredients. The food is spiced in such a way that it takes your taste buds several seconds to work their way through the multiple layers of flavors. I can't describe it, you gotta be there.

And coincidentally, dinner awaits. Mmmmmmmm.

Shanti.

Hello from the other side of the world

Hi Everyone,

After about 21 hours in the air over a 2-day period (which I don't recommend), we made it to India safe and sound. We stopped for a day in Seoul, Korea and that was an interesting experience. Lots of new construction going on there as it is in the throes of modernizing.

We took a walk to the worlds largest open-air market place. What a trip! My particular favorite was the pickled pig heads and dried larvae. Mmmmm. Makes my mouth water just thinking about it.

India is beyond words. I've never experienced such a sensory overload before. I wander around with a bemused grin on my face because it feels like I'm in a National Geographic show. I have to keep telling myself its real.

We got into Delhi at half-past midnight and finally settled into our rooms at 2:30 AM. Then up at 8:00 for breakfast and onto our bus for an 8 hour death-defying demolition derby style drive to Jaipur. The drivers here are either the most adept or most insane in the world. The jury is still out on that one. I am impressed. I am also perfectly willing to let someone else do the driving. Once upon a time I thought I could handle any traffic situation. I now know better. These people can make 12 traffic lanes where the stripes on the road would indicate only 4 to the non-Indian mind . You couldn't slip a piece of paper between the side-view mirrors of adjacent vehicles- including oncoming ones. They have nerves of titanium. The secret, it seems, is to blow the horn at least 47 times a minute.

The variety of rolling hardware is mind-wobbling. We saw every thing from a family of 4 riding on a motorcycle (with both kids sound asleep!) to camel-drawn carts to elephants. There are also 3-wheeled cars and trucks and rickshaws, as well. There is a strict hierarchy (which appears to be the only sort of order to be found) when it comes to right-of-way. Smaller yields to larger. If you're on foot, you ain't squat. At the other extreme, elephants are the king of the road. Its hard to intimidate an elephant. If two vehicles are of equal mass, well, I'm afraid to contemplate the possible outcome. Our vehicle is moderately large, but I think I want to go elephant just to be on the safe side.

Speaking of our "vehicle", we stopped twice to make road-side repairs to the A/C unit. Well, road-side is a bit of an exaggeration because the first time, we just stopped right there in our lane. Remember: we're moderately large and that affords us certain privileges. The best part was when we got into Jaipur. We were about a mile from the hotel, when the bus stalled in the middle of a busy intersection and the battery didn't have enough juice to turn the motor over. All the men-folk climbed off the bus and we push-started the damn thing. What a hoot. Thank God no one was camel-trampled.

BTW, If you look to the left, you'll see a link to my photo album. You know what to do next.

Later.

Stressing-out

Nothing stays the same. Within the next several days my life is going to change considerably. And change can cause stress.

First, my son will move out and begin life on his own. Brian has found a nice big studio apartment and he'll be moving into it this weekend. Fortunately it's not too far from my place. Do dads experience "empty nest syndrome"?

Next week I'll be retiring after 32 years of sheet metal fun and games. Wow, that went by fast (now that its over).

Then, 3 days later I'll get on a plane and fly to India for several weeks.

Needless to say, my head is spinning a little, but I have the remedy in hand, namely my plane tickets. Travel is good for the soul. But, in my case at least, the planning and preparation isn't. I'm nearly past that part of the program and now I'm actually beginning to get psyched. Once I'm on the plane I'll begin to chill out.

So, stay tuned to this blog and I'll keep you informed about my trip. Hope you enjoy it and please feel free to click the 'comments' link below and let me know what you think!