Successful Travel

We finally made it to Khajuraho, thanks to a newly innagurated rail line opened in 2008 (so new it did not appear in our trusty Lonely Planet guidebook) since interstate bus service has been temporarily suspened for the election season (unlike in the US people do not all vote on the same day here; elections are spread out over a month in the larget democracy in the world). We all agreed it was worth the journey. This small village hosts several sets of spectacular temples set in peaceful grassy gardens, and since its the peak of hot season we had the world heritage site nearly to ourselves. We tried to stay cool in our underground hotel room, but unfortunately the mosquitos were lurking there for us and kept us up during the night (luckily we're all taking anti-malarials, even me, despite my no medicine general policy). We are now in the small town of Orchha which is hosting over 2,00 pilgrims for the monthly rama festival. We took the local train, which stopped far too many times for Janet's liking. The group of men next to us played bridge the entire way, non-stop, for over six hours, throwing the cards with much gusto on every play. A bus full of election officials and heavily armed national security forces took us the last 6 kms from the train station to Orchha town center free of charge, to my great relief, since the local taximan was trying to gouge us for 150 rupees ($3, but the fair price would have been less than $1). People are feeling healthy, but we are still having periodic bouts of heat zombification. We are trying to stay hydrated (Janet and I drank over 10 liters of water just on today's train journey).

Bus Odyssey

We've left Varanasi behind and the tourist route as well (judging by the size of our entourage and the amount of stares and marked decline in scams). Our goal was to reach the temples of Khajuraho - after two days of travel we are still not there. The big mistake was trying to take the bus instead of the train, but at the time of decision making we didn't have enough accurate information to judge the situation. As we now know, the state buses in UP (Uttar Pradesh) are terrible (I could see the road beneath us through a large hole in the plywood floor only partially covered by a piece of flattened tin can under my chair) as are the roads. The heat continues to stiffle and the cramped and crowded confines of the bus amplify the effect; sometimes it is unclear if you want the window open or closed because the air that enters only scorches your face. The other passangers have all been very friendly. They even tried to get my father water when they saw him waving his bottle out the window (but they didn't understand the concept of purified water). We are currently spending the night somewhere out in UP and it looks like we'll still have trouble making it out to the site tomorrow, despite it only being 65 kms, since the connecting train only runs on Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, and there are no public buses. My father said it was possibly one of the toughest days of his life, especially since he is having some digestive issues (ironically, since he has only been drinking bottled water).

Varanasi

The ghats (riverside temples) that line the entire river in Varanasi are truly full of energy at sunrise. I made up my mind to get up early and take a plunge into the holy river (despite the pollution problems) alongside the thousands of Hindu faithful. Unfortunately, a half decomposed monkey corpse greeted me at the waters edge and I lost all my enthusiasm for bathing (thus forfeiting the washing away of my past life's sins, but it was just too gross). We're having an amazing time in the holy cityjust walking up and down the river and exploring the labyrtine streets (especially dad!). Visual stimulus is everywhere, and peoplewatching opportunities abound, from dreadlock hindu brahmins dressed in saffron robes to dreadlocked European travelers decked out in puffy world clothes. We even saw the making of a new episode of GlobeTreker (a backpacker travle video guide) - the host kept running up the ghat steps trying to get his closing lines out without laughing "This city is so much more than I could have expected. Varanasi has taught me its ok to die, so I've got to go, I have a lot of living to do." Along side the spiritual and cultural wealth of Varanasi is a more annoying side consisiting of endless offers to visit local silk shops (which dad did), charter boats to ride up and down the river (which we did not do), ayruvedic massages, or buy any number of products in local shops, along with the more straightforward begging and deliberate misinformation and assorted scams. We also had a small mishap: Janet stepped directly in a large fresh cow patty wearing her sandals, right in front of the crowded police station corner (to the amusement of all). The nearby water pump was dry, but luckily the brahmins at the local teple could direct her to a running tap to clean her foot. Dad keeps us all entertained with his very particular shopping habits (he fixates on random items which he must have; he's already filled the handicraft bag he purchased with assorted gifts). Overall, Varanasi is a magical place (especially in the morning and evening when temperatures are bearable), but even relaxing in our room, we still had a view of the river thanks to Janet's willingness to walk out on inferior and overpriced accomadations!

city of light

We are in the holy city of varanasi and it is very hot! Pilgrims come from all over the country (and world) to bathe in the holy Ganga, despite the pollution issues (none of us have bathed yet). It is an especially auspicious place to day, and we received a short lecture describing the cremation process in detail from one of the locals. There is a lot of atmosphere to soak in just walking up and down the streets of the old city and the river ghats (temples with steps leading into the river), but also a lot of attention from locals trying to sell goods and services. The rikshaw touts are especially frequent and persistant (they don't appreciate our efforts to walk, eventhough we explained we had just been on a train for 13 hours and needed to streatch our legs). Dad has enjoyed purchasing random objects, like a prayer bead necklace, a bag, a scarf, and other various items. The trip to the silk workshop was particualarly entertaining since they dressed my father up in a sary after Janet refused to participate.

Our team is complete!

My father arrived safe and sound near mid-night and we were already off and running seeing sights in Delhi this morning. Jetlag hasn't been an issue so far, and I am enjoying showing Janet and my dad how to use the public bus (despite my dad's requests to use the auto-rickshaws) and find quality eats in the street market. Today we happened upon a particularly good all you can eat lunch for just 25 rupees (50 cents); we were all impressed with what the Indians can cook up with such minimal facilities (a stove, a fan, and a few tables and benches, and an improvised tandori oven made out of a cement covered oil drum, all under a canvas roofing). Tonight we are taking the overnight train for Varanasi (it will be a nice introduction to the rail system for my dad and Janet), although we have all already decided not to bathe in the Holy Ganga (Ganges River) as we have read that it is extremely polluted.

Delhi

Janet has arrived in Delhi, safe and sound. She even figured out how to take the bus from the airport into the city showing off her traveler savvy. We toured the old city and spent time relaxing in the grassy gardens catching up on everything that has happened during the past 50 days. Janet didn't seemed too phased on her first day of India, maybe its from all of her experiences from different places around the world. We have been strategizing on ways to avoid sickness from food or water vectors. We saw lots and lots of Gandhi memorobilia (including his dentures and his juicer). Next arrival is my dad, sometime tonight. We are keeping our fingers crossed.

Golden Temple

The Golden Temple is an oasis of peace within the hectic city of Amristar (and within a hectic India!). It is such a beautiful place that I took at least 40 pictures from different angles and in different lights (the Indian visitors were also taking plenty of photos on their mobile phones). the temple itself sits in the middle of a pool of water so clean, even I bathed in it. The shrine houses the Holy Book of the Sieks and the most important site for that community. Pilgrims come in great numbers, and the city has a host of communal facilities to accomodate them, including massive rest halls and kitchens. As I consider myself a pilgrim in this land, I also utilized these communal facilities (its like belonging to an ashram, they have very strict rules to keep the place holy, including a ban on all smoking and drinking, which is fine by me). Seik guards, dressed in saffron colored robes and armed with spears and swords enforce the code. Holy men continually read from the scripture which, accompanied by music, is broadcast throughout the precinct via loudspeakers. I have spent hours just walking around the temple and listening to the melodious sounds, just absorbing the spirit of brotherhood and love that dominants this place. despite the current tranquility, the city has twice witnessed great carnage within the last century. In 1919, the British open fired on a crowd of peaceful protesters, killing thousands, and reigniting the Indian independence movement (basically the Indian version of the boston massacre) and more recently in 1984, a massive goverment crackdown with tanks and heavy firepower on Siek seperatists who had occupied the Golden temple in their attempt to agitate for an independent homeland resulted in great destruction of the monument and loss of life. Today that is all part of history and contemporary visitors just enjoy the beauty of this special place. Tonight I am taking another overnight train back to Delhi to await the arrival of my wife and father. Oh the joy!

Punjab

After a brief stay in the capital city of Delhi, and the inevitable overwhelming feelings that accompany the first introduction to India's megaopolis capital, I am now in the Punjab. This is the chapotti basket (bread basket) of the country, fields of wheat (often harvested by hand) dominate the views from the trains and buses in stark contrast with the semi-arid wastelands of the Rajastani deserts. The people here wear a different type of turban than the brightly neoned colored, haphazardly wrapped, bulbous headdresses of Rajasatn, preferring more subdued hues and tightly wound orderly looking wraps. My goal was to visit some of my friends (from the India/Pakistan teacher program I ran in the summer of 2007 at UCLA) in this region, and despite not having a mobile phone (which people still find very hard to believe here) I was able to meet up with two of them. It was very fun staying with families, interacting with children and grandparents and great-grandparents, and spending time with their ordinary weekend activities. This involved eating plenty of Punjabi specialty dishes; each family wanted to fatten me up before my wife arrives later this week (although this did end my over 40 days of vegetarianism in the country, as the Punjabis enjoy eating meat dishes). During the summer heat siestas (mid-day naps) are common on the weekends after a big lunch, luckily my summers in Spain have trained me well for this. Usually people go out in the evening when the temperatures cool off. Activities include strolling by the lake, riding the escalators at the mall (people just enjoy the air conditioning rather than actual shopping, except for the all chicken McDonald's and KFC, which were doing brisk business), weddings (now is the season, and wedding tents and parties can be seen throughout the cities, at times causing big traffic jams), watching cricket on satellite TV (unfortunately for security reasons the Indians have to play their season in South Africa), visiting local temples (we toured the holy stockyard and feed balls of gooey animal feed to the cows in order to redeem the sins accumulated in past lives), and even a trip to the Indian version of Chucky Cheese, were the kids enjoyed trying to win as many tickets as possible with various carnival style games. It was great to be with friends and see how ordinary families enjoy life activities not so differnt from my experiences with my own family.

Close Encounter of the Bovine Nature

Jaipur is notoriuous for congested streets and trafic of all kinds (auto, animal, and human). In a narrow street a cycle-rickshaw zipped dangerously close and in atempt to evade it I jumped straight into the path of an onry bovine. Understrandably upset, this mad cow picked me off the stret with a major headbutt. Luckily her horns were nothing like her toros bravos cousins in Spain or I would have a major scar to match my little brother's hernia souvenir. The corner posse of men drinking chai (Indian tea) quickly mobilized and got their sacred animal under control before I could suffer any damage, and other spectators quickly came to ensure my safety and inspect my body (don't worry, no injuries to report!). Maybe it was karma for all those delicious hambergers I've eaten in the past, but I have ben meat free here in India.

Barefoot College

Well, I'm back in civilization (which means pollution, noise, and traffic, but also access to the internet) after three days in the peaceful village of Tilonia, where I stayed on the Barefoot College campus, which is powered entirely by solar energy and meets its water needs with rooftop harvesting (my kind of place!). It was a difficult place to find, especially since the mid-day train service to the lacal station has been canceled (I had to ride on top of a jeep to cover the last 11 kms), but the Barefoot College is full of amazing sustainable Deevlopment programs. I got to meet a group of barefoot solar engineers in training, 35 rural illeterate women from seven African nations all learning together how to electrify their villages using the power of the sun. I still don't understand how they learn without any languages in common. Their motto is learn by doing. I had an opportunity to use my rudementary French with the women from Senegal and learned that they miss fish and that Indian food gives them indigestion. I also got to participate in a children's parliment, with youth from around the region discussing how to resolve issues they face in daily life, like teachers using corporal punishment unreasonably, low caste families exclusion from using the village water hand pump, and child labour, all while seated on carpets under a large tent with the entire community watching. I also visited a night school; 8 determined young ladies who after a long days work attending buffalo and goats or hawking tomatoes in the market, spend their evenings sitting on small mats around one solar powered lantern studying basic literacy in a small farm courtyard, with family members snoring in the background while sleeping on the outdoor beds and the cow continually chewing on the students' sories while they wrote on the large slate. They made me teach one segment on the spot; I told them farm animal names in English and made them guess the name in Hindi while I acted them out (they thought it hilarious to see a foreign visitor acting like a monkey). I felt like I was in Peace Corps again; the education workers really made me feel appreciated as they asked me to come back and stay with them for a month next time. It was an abrupt transition to the urban Jaipur, the Pink City, but I'm hoping I'll find its charm before I have to rush off to Delhi and the Punjab to meet up with my Indian teacher friends from the summer program I ran at UCLA in the summer of 2007.

No Easter in India

Its always nice to be with family and loved ones on special holidays. Unfortunately here in India there is no Easter, but I am missing you all very much!

Dancing Luc

Today gets two posts. On my way back down from the hilltop I decided to find some food. Using my streetsense I found out the best deals were at the bus stand, 25 rupee (50 cents) all-you-can-eat thalis (meals consisting of chappoti - tortilla like Indian bread - and various dals or curries, sometimes with rice and dessert). However, on my way, as usual, I was stopped various times by locals to sit and talk, sometimes over chai (tea). The locals speak more English in this part of the country, so my conversations have been a little more verbal. This time we started talking about dancing, and my conversation buddy gets excited and insists I must come with him. I explain I need food, but he assures me this won't be a problem. As we are walking down a narrow street, I wonder what I am getting myself into. Next thing I know it, I am sitting next to the groom for wedding pictures and videofilming. I felt a little bad for crashing this rural India wedding, but I soon realized that it was a community affair with people coming and going, plus they would not let me leave. There was food, served in an imrovised wedding patio converted out of the street with carpets under a canopy of blinking lights. And there was dancing, with me being the main attraction I soon found out. Music was provided by a small band featuring drummers and brass instruments, complemented by a mobile DJ, basically a cart decked out in chrome and lights with a synthesizer and microphone powered by a diesel generator. I just tried to imitate the moves I've seen on the various Bollywood features I've watched, and everyone seemed to enjoy. People even started waving 50 rupee bills over my head (I'm not sure exactly what that means). Only the men danced and the interactions were very energetic and playful. After about an hour I wanted to get away so as not to keep my host family up too late at the guest house, but people kept dragging me back. At one point the groom mounted a decorated steed and the event transitioned into the mosque for a ceremony; I took advantage of the lull to escape before the music trapped me again. Back in my room the water was out, but uckily we could fetch some from a nearby well for a cool refreshing shower. I wish I could get a copy of that wedding video, I am sure it would been cery amusing to watch!

Bus Days

When you are traveling, there are days you spend a lot of hours on the bus; today was one of those days. We journeyed on a brand new concrete multi-lane highway, but since we stopped in every single village along the way, it still took us about nine hours to cover the approximately 200 kms. It was fun cruising down the newly inaguarted expressway with nothing but the occasional motorcycle or goat herd for traffic, but our old bus maxed out at a speed of about 50 kms/hr even under these ideal conditions. The police sat next to me for the trip so they could practice their english. They had problems trying to store their old wooden barelled rifels, and finally tied them to the seat in front of us. Some of the passengers thought I was under custody, but my friends clarifyed the situation. We shared groundnuts (as they call peanuts here), Indian cucmbers (with salt+chili), icecream (they make it with no electricity, just a bucket of cream in a bucket of ice with salt, just like in boyscouts). and all kinds of fried treats. The policeman sitting next to me is getting married in a couple of weeks, and I told him how excited I was for him and how my wife is arriving in a couple of weeks. I really enjoyed observing the Rajastani countryside, with its hills and valleys, and arid landscape interspersed with fertile irrigated lands. I felt sorry for having to leave behind some impressive fortresses, but you can't see everything! The men here where all white except for extremely colorful turbines, and the women wear equally colorful soris. Just before arriving to my destination, the small town of Bundi, the bus overheated. I thought it was game over, but luckily there was a ground pump nearby, so a couple of men jumped off and collected enough water in buckets for our radiator, and we were on our way.
The medival town of Bundi, with its huge palaces and relaxed lanes lined with blue hued homes was a lovely stop. I hiked up to the hilltop to spend the afternoon exploring some of the abandoned mahals (palaces). It was just me and the monkeys, awesome views, and tons of ruins to explore, with lots of towers to climb and underground tunnels. Some more people trickled up in time for an impressive sunset. What a perfect afternoon!

Welcome to Rajastan

On the walk from the train station to the lakeside I saw more foreigners than during the entire time since I left the coast. Rajastan is the land of kings, full of castles, palaces, mountains, and deserts, so it attracts plenty of visitors. There is also no lack of espresso bars, rooftop resteraunts, internet cafes, massage parlors, sightseeing guides, snicker bars, toilet paper, all kinds of handi crafts and souvenirs (some of them quiet beautiful), and anything else Indians have learned a tourist might want. Its not that I'm complaining, being perceived as a walking $ is part of the travel experience, but I have been spoiled so far traveling in the less touristy parts of the country. It is beautiful here in Udaipur: the air is fresh, the sky is blue, and eventhough the lake is more like a glorified puddle during the dry season, there are still scenic enough views of the island palace/hotel where James Bond's unfortunately named Octopussy was filmed (although I don't think its worth the $450 minimum per night!). I arrived on the overnight train from Amdavad (8 hours). I was on the waitlist for a sleeper berth, so luckily enough people cancled their tickets, or it would have been a very long night squeezed into second class!

Everyday India

Even in exotic India life can be ordinary, so forgive me for neglecting my blog. I have been working hard the past week interviewing people involved in the sustainable development community and trying to get my dissertation proposal finished (I have spent almost three hours a day in the planet-cyber typing away). I also attended an all-day conference with delegates from all around India to make recommendations to the national delegation to the United Nations meeting in New York on drought and desertification. Unfortunately we spent a lot of time debating which were the best words to use in certain occasions (at times to an absurd degree), but that's Indian democracy for you. The most contentious issue involved including language on population stabilization or omitting mention of it (in the end we deferred the decision and then never got back to it). The best part was the lunch feast, but unfortunately for me, as in most all-you-can-eat situatgions, the meal ended with a slight belly ache. We got a brief respite from the summer heat (which means temperatures in the low 90s) but the thermometer should break 100 again today. I still haven't had to use anykind of cover for sleeping (except for once on the coast when there were to many mosquitos to turn the fan off and the temperature cooled at night) and I have had no problems drying my laundry, even at night. It did rain for about ten minutes, the first precipitation so far during my journey. I am finishing my stay in Gujarat today with one last interview and then heading off to Rajastan on the overnight train (hopefully I get a spot in the sleeper car, I was fourth on the wait list). I am also contemplating getting my face shaved, but every time I try to go in the barber shop I chicken out when I see how fast they move that sharp blade around the neck area.

Holy Pilgrimage

I decided to make another escape from the big city for the weekend to the rural village of Champaner (pop. approximately 3,000). The area has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, with huge mosques and fortifications from its glory days as the regional capital now abandoned in farmers' fields. Nearby is the holy mountain Pavagadh, with an important shrine to Mahakali located on the very tippy-top. Little did I know that my outing coincided with the last day of the lunar month Chaitra and a massive 28 day celebration dedicated to the godess. When I desembarked instead of encountering the bucolic scenes I expected I was greeted by hundreds of buses and thousands of pilgrims. In the mass confusion I could not find the one hotel in the region where I had planned to spend the night, so I decided to tackle the mountain carrying all of my earthly posessions in this hemisphere with me. A month ago this would not have been challenging, the hike is about as strenuous as Hinniger flats back home (about 3 miles and 2,000 feet elev. gain only lined entirely with vendors, think of the approach to La Bufadora in Ensenada, Mexico and you get some idea) but my muscles have atrophied while in India, and my caloric intake has been well below the 2,000 daily recomendation (in the previous few days I had only eaten about 15 bananas, a medium bag of toasted beens, a few slices of cocmut, a couple of samosas, and a mango milk shake) reducing the amount of blood and muscle sugar stores available to me during the ascent. I did have plenty of water to stay hydrated during the cardio intensive exercise, but I felt exhausted and even contemplated stopping to rest, but I kept going to the top. All the while, throngs of pilgrims were engaged in the same quest, decked out with red flags and headbands, and carrying coconut offerings. After visiting the shrine and sitting on top of the temple to enjoy the spectacular views, I felt completely refreshed, physically and spiritually. This made my descent easy, and the aerial views allowed me to orient myself and find my lodgings, no problems. I was the only non-Indian participating in this mass event and I was invited to a communal feast that evening in a huge colorful tent set up in the bus yard. I was placed in a prominent location so all the pilgrims could watch me sit on the carpet and eat the large plate of food with my hands. They taught me their godess' slogan, and each time I mispronounced it I got big cheers. The pilgrims kept encouraging me to eat more, so I had about three dinners (I was very hungry at this point).

Day Off

I needed a little break from the daily grind in the big city, and since I didn't have any interviews scheduled, I took the day off and took a long bus ride south to the holy mountaintop temples of Shatrunjaya. It is the most important pilgrimage place in the world for Jains, with over 1,000 temples. Reaching the mountaintop involves over 3,000 stone steps (nearly 2,000 ft) which is quite a sweat in the mid-day heat of summer, but the views and peaceful environment made it all worth it. One of the temples was undergoing extensive renovations; the crew of plasterers and chislers were very excited to see a foreigner amidst the pilgrims and started beckoning me up onto the make-shift bamboo scaffolding. I quickly inspected the lashings using my boyscout skills and determined they could probably sustain my weight, and climbed aboard. Soon I was surrounded by about twenty young men who knew about 15 words in English amongst them which put together with the approximately 10 words in Gujarati I have picked up didn't give us much wiggleroom for verbal communication. We still managed to spend about an hour up on the rafters using each of the words we knew in as many possible ways and improvising with charades and sounds. They thought the funniest part was when I offered to take any of them back to the United States with me if they could squeeze into my backpack. As the sunset, I walked back down all of the steps and through the small town, stopping various times to sit with the locals and drink chai as I told them about how great Obama is compared to Bush (they all seem to love Obama as well after his tough talk to Pakistan).

I think the pilgramage boosted my karma because upon my return (on the 5am bus) I was finally granted the interview with the Center for Environment Education, which I had been working on for the past ten days!

Life in Amdavad

I have been in Ahmedabad (aka Amdavad, lots of cities here have two names, which can be confusing) for an entire week now. Staying in the same location has given me the chance to form some routines andgetto knowsomeof thelocal people. There is the banana vendor (I buy 10 rupees of bananas every day, but after some serios deliberation on his part I always receive a different number of fruits, 6, 8, 9, 12, Ihaven't been able to figure out hismethod yet, size, quality, color, time of day, random?), the PlanetCyber staff (they see me a lot since I have been trying to finish some of my dissertation proposal work and to stay in contact with all of you), the husband and wife breakfast team who serve me the Indian version of french toast (with jalapeno sauce), the hotel crew (who all find it amusing that I take a shower at the end of the day instead of the beginning), and the samosa vendor next door who always tries to convince me to eat two pieces instead of one, to name a few of the people in my daily life here. I have also seen a lot of the streets and neigboorhoods of this city. This morning I was in the far side of town checking out some very elaborate and old wells (which are now completely abandoned like so many historic relics in India). A priest living nearby invited me into his home (the local temple) for tea and tomatoes with rice puffs. Wetalked for about an hour. his family's situation was obviously very humble, but he was so happy to shae with a foreigner. I feel privilidged to have experienced many special moments like this while in India.
I continue working on my research here, but have hadsome mixed results. The last couple of days I conducted two really nice interviews with some people doing some interesting development work (unfortunately I'm not sure if the material is totally relevant to my research questions, but I think I can make it work). Itsa challenge though working around peoples schedules, especially with summer starting here and minimal access to means of communication.