** Caveat- this entry is a summary of 6 weeks, and it is long- make yourself a chai and settle in, or skip it altogether… **
Nov 28: Incredible India! That’s the tourism catch phrase for India. It’s on posters all over and it’s probably a fair slogan- this place is Incredible. But not necessarily in the way you expect. Or… maybe in exactly the way you expect. Put “incredible” or “incredibly” in front of pretty much any noun or adjective and you’re probably accurately describing something in India.
We’ve been here for two weeks so far and, since this blog is as much our journal as a broadcast to the masses, I felt I’d better start getting some thoughts down before I lose the currency of our experiences. When we were roughing out the shape of this trip and allotting time to the various countries, we arbitrarily assigned India 6 weeks. It was more than the 4 weeks we’d heard you need to get over the culture shock, and also brought us up to Christmas which seemed like a good time to escape to a more comfortable place. It’s always been a daunting time to me- what if it turned out to be unbearable? Trapped in India for 6 weeks… And now that we’re here, everyday I think to myself “I don’t want to be here until Christmas and yet… we don’t have enough time…” This is the dichotomy of India. Everything is extreme in both directions. Both beautiful and disgusting. Peaceful and chaotic. Full of kindness and lying cheats. Just don’t forget to add “incredibly“…
We started our journey by walking across the Nepalese/Indian border at Sunauli- we’d arrived there from Kathmandu at 4:00pm and weren’t sure how far we wanted to go that night- arriving in India after dark wasn’t our idea of a good time. We decided to at least walk across the border to get our feet on the Indian soil and that’s when we were offered a ride in a Jeep that was heading to our ultimate destination- Varanasi. While the cost was probably about double what the bus/train would have been, it was still only $8 and shaved off at least a day of hassle. It also had us arriving in Varanasi at about 2am. So much for not arriving after dark… The driver phoned ahead to arrange a room for us which was comforting, but we knew we’d have to take whatever it was and pay for it regardless and, as expected, it was… incredible. And not in a good way ;) Needless to say, the next morning we were on the hunt for a new place. Knowing that we wanted to be closer to the Ganges and hopefully have a balcony from which we could watch the riverside activities, we chose a new hotel which had both. Be careful what you wish for- it turned out that we had a front row seat to one of Varanasi’s two main cremation sites. Incredible…
Varanasi is one of the holiest places in India- for a Hindu, dying there releases you from the cycle of re-incarnation allowing you to reach nirvana. The water in the Ganges is used to wash away ones sins, or that pesky ketchup stain on your favourite shirt. It’s also the place to go when you die- either as ashes after cremation or, in the case of infants, pregnant woman, holy men, and a few others, as a complete body with rocks tied to you. The river edge is lined with ghats, which are essentially large staircases that lead from the alleyways above down into the river. The ghats fill with people at all hours of the day and night for the purposes of bathing, laundry, socialising, and of course, cremations. No need for separation- all of these activities take place together in the river. At the ghat outside our room (the smaller of the two burning ghats) there could be as many five cremations happening simultaneously- with 3 more lined up on deck. The process involves weighing and paying for the wood (the cost depends on the type of wood you choose, and most people buy as little as possible as the costs are wildly out of proportion with the average income), building a pyre, washing the body briefly in the Ganges and then placing it onto the pyre, adding more wood on top of the body (no worries if the head and feet stick out), and then lighting it ablaze. It takes a few hours before the process is complete- a crowd (typically only men) watch for a while, but considering it’s essentially a funeral there is no real emotion shown. Eventually the ashes are scooped into the river and another pyre is built. People move around the pyres casually- children play around the waiting bodies, and dogs, goats and other animals mill in and around the fires. It’s hard to even understand one’s own feelings about such a place, let alone try and put words to them. There is a real beauty to the river, the buildings, and the colourful saris draped across the stairs to dry. Watching the devout pilgrims bathing and performing rituals at the rivers edge is humbling. And yet being in Varanasi is… heavy. Coming from a different culture, its hard to reconcile what you’re witnessing with the completely different way that death is handled at home. It certainly opens up a Pandora’s Box of discussion topics…
After three days in Varanasi we were ready to leave the weight of the place behind. We took an overnight train to the small city of Kajuraho- population 20,000 versus Varanasi’s 1.2 million. We spent our time wandering the gorgeously carved Kama Sutra temples, riding bicycles through the countryside, and enjoying the unique experience of an Ayurvedic massage. It would have been easy for the days to slip by there but the Taj Mahal was calling… Faced with a train that would have us arriving at Agra at 2am or a bus ride that arrived at 4:30pm, we opted for the bus. Big mistake. Huge. We rolled into Agra at 9:30pm after a frustrating ride that solidified why everyone talks of train travel in India. These days bus travel makes us want to pack our bags and catch the next flight home…
After a long “why do we do this to ourselves” day, I convinced Cam to put off the 5am wakeup call and save our Taj sunrise visit for the following day. Instead we took in some of Agra’s other main sights- the Agra Fort (where Shah Jahan, the Taj’s creator, was imprisoned by his son for the last 8 years of his life, able only to view his masterpiece from his locked tower), the Baby Taj (a beautiful tomb that is smaller in scale but equal in detail to the Taj), and Metab Bagh (a park on the opposite side of the river to the Taj which affords gorgeous views, especially at sunset). Finally it was time to visit the jewel in India’s crown and, after procuring tickets, we joined the queue at the Taj gate at 6am. We were both worried that we’d potentially ruined our first sight of the building after having seen it from various vantage points the day before but it was not the case- there is probably nothing that can ruin your first “real” view of the Taj Mahal. It truly lives up to the hype and is… incredibly incredible. Being some of the first people in, we were able to enjoy the first few moments without crowds- but even as the day went on and people poured in, the Taj has some magical way of always feeling peaceful. The best way we can find to describe it is that it simply feels like its not a building at all- not an inanimate object, but something that has a soul and a heart beat. You could almost feel it breathe. Odd I know, but I suspect those of you who have been there will know what I mean.
Cut to Dec 14... this post sat idle for more than two weeks and we’ve now spent just over a month in India, with only 9 days left before we close the book on Stage 3. I’ll admit that while we’re excited about the plans for the next 9 days, we are both looking forward to the flight out to a simpler land, one much more reminiscent of home…
Going back… after leaving Agra and the Taj behind we took a quick day trip to the lost city of Fatehpur Sikri, which was once the short lived capital of the Mughal Empire. Our visit was a bit “dampened” by the rain, combined with an irksome taxi driver who, little did we know at the time, was a sign of things to come. We caught an evening train to Delhi, arrived an hour late at 11pm, and then spent an hour driving around the city trying to find our hotel with a tuk tuk driver who seemed to be capable of asking for directions, but completely incapable of actually following them. This, combined with the Indian people’s extremely frustrating habit of telling you something (anything) rather than admitting they don’t know, led us to many u-turns, circles, and dead ends. Finally I lost it, paid him a partial fare, gave him some of my best “angry voice” when he asked for the rest, and we started walking the alleys toward our hotel. Fortunately we struck upon somebody who actually knew the way, and we arrived safely just before midnight. We checked into our pricey hotel that we’d booked as a “sanctuary” in the chaos of Delhi, and were hardly shocked to find that it wasn’t worth the money (except for the fact that it was within walking distance to McDonalds). And such was the start of our sordid relationship with Delhi. The following morning we headed first to the New Delhi train station to book some onward travel. We had learned from our guide book that there was a helpful tourist office for booking tickets, and not to let anyone steer us away from the goal of reaching it. Even with that warning we were unprepared for the experience- our tuk tuk driver (taking us to the station) was the first to lie to us and try to direct us elsewhere, and as we pushed on we were pointed in every direction but the correct one by at least 6 different people. These are not even people we asked for help- they make a point of coming to you, and giving you helpful advice in the form of bold faced lies, steering you toward God knows where but certainly not the commission free tourist office. I was frustrated to the point of tears, and we were in an environment where you cannot ask for help, but we did persevere and successfully booked trains. Incredible…
We spent another 2.5 days in Delhi, visiting both the place of Gandhi’s assassination (a beautiful and interesting museum) and cremation (an odd marble platform in the middle of a park), a cult-like Disneyland for Swaminarayan followers (which contributed to my belief that religious extremism is never positive), the exquisite Lotus temple (a temple of the Bahai faith, designed by a Canadian-Iranian architect), the serene Humayun’s Tomb (a treat for those who may have spent countless hours building a scale model of Mughal gardens…), Jama Masjid (India’s largest mosque which oddly had me covering my ankle length jeans and rain jacket with a colourful shower curtain in the interest of modesty), and finally the streets and alleyways of Old Delhi, of which we’d heard rumours of filth and chaos but in fact mildly disappointed us (perhaps we are becoming numb to filth and chaos…).
I haven’t even bothered to mention the phenomenon that is Delhi tuk tuk/taxi drivers. For fear that it may make my blood pressure rise to unhealthy levels simply to reminisce, let me just summarize and say that they are, without doubt, the least enjoyable people we have ever met, anywhere, and in any condition. They do a disservice to the Indian people, and the people of Delhi.
From Dehli we headed to Jaipur and started our day by walking to a restaurant- when it was proving hard to find, we asked directions from a tuk tuk driver who was offering his services. Shockingly his directions were accurate and we decided over lunch that we’d hire him for the day if we could find him again. If only these guys could understand how much further their honesty would get them… With our two trusty drivers cuddling in the front seat, we cruised around the chaos of the Pink City (they painted much of the city pink, the colour of hospitality, to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876), visiting the Jantar Mantar observatory (where we paid for a guide as recommended by our guide book, only to immediately realize that we may as well have burned the 200Rs), the Tiger Fort (where I narrowly avoided being stampeded by a cow), Hawa Mahal (the Window Palace, which has hundreds of windows that allowed women to look out, but not be looked upon), and the Amber Fort- the highlight of Jaipur in our opinion. We capped off our visit with a trip to the Raj-Mandir Bollywood theatre- the number one Hindi theatre in India. We watched the movie Guzarrish, which is a departure from the colourful, flamboyant, musically based Bollywood stereotype, but was actually a very enjoyable and well made film. Oddly it was in a hybrid Hindi-English language, which gave us just enough content to be able to follow along and at the intermission (?!) we found ourselves anxious to see the rest of the movie!
As we left our hotel in Jaipur and our tuk tuk quickly drove over a puppy, leaving it squealing in our wake, and me squealing inside the tuk tuk, it was clear that it was time to leave the big cities behind. Our arrival in Jaisalmer was a welcome relief. We headed straight to the Hotel Roop Mahal based on a recommendation from a fellow traveler and, once settled there, headed out for some sightseeing. We made some wrong turns and ended up stumbling into the Tourist Reception Center. Skeptical, but without much better choice, we went in and asked for directions. The friendly man whipped out a map, circled all the key points, gave us some good guidance, and didn’t ask for a single rupee in return. As we stepped outside Cam looked at me and said “What just happened…?!” We felt like we were in a whole new world, and one we very much missed. The rest of the day was just as enjoyable, and we even enjoyed doing some shopping to prepare for our camel safari which we’d booked earlier in the day.
The camel safari is one of the prime reasons people head to Jaisalmer, and the reaches of the Thar Desert in north-western Rajasthan. The desert stretches to the Pakistan border and, although not the “desert” of postcards (scrub and greenery cover the sand dunes), it is still a nice relaxing destination after the likes of Delhi. We spent 4 days and 3 nights on safari, with our trusty camels (Lala and Gulab) and camel drivers (Gazib and Suma). There is no real “event” to a camel safari- the days unfold as per a standard routine: chai delivered in bed, breakfast of toast, porridge and eggs, a two hour camel ride, a 3+ hour siesta in the shade of thorn trees where more chai and lunch is served, another two hour camel ride, and then sunset photos on the dunes with more chai and dinner at that day’s camp spot, and finally to bed on mattresses rolled out on the dunes, with nothing but the infinite sky to lull you to sleep. Being forced into relaxation was the highlight for us and, because we are here in the winter and the heat never got too unbearable, our “peaceful camel time” each day was a much needed respite from Incredible India.
Cut to Dec 23... this post has become my nemesis and now, on the day we depart India, I will force myself to post it and leave it, along with Incredible India, behind.
We left Jaisalmer and headed to Jodhpur to visit the “Blue City”- a large percentage of the houses are painted Brahmin Blue and, viewed from the magnificent Mehrangarh Fort, makes for a beautiful scene very reminiscent of Greece. The Fort of Jodphur was one of many we’ve seen, but became our favourite by far- partly for the fort itself, partly the gardens around it, partly the blue labyrinth of streets that crept up to its walls, and partly for the wicked chocolate pancakes that welcomed us at our hostel nearby- Singhvi’s Haveli, one of our top spots in India.
The following day we pushed our cost vs. comfort needle toward “comfort” and hired a car to drive us to our next stop- Udaipur. We’d heard the bus ride was nightmarish (which is saying something) and the added benefit was being able to stop en-route to see the massive Jain temple at Ranakpur- it is carved from white marble and supported by 1444 pillars of which no two are alike. Our driver got us safely to our destination with no fewer than 4 stops for chai! Udaipur is said to be the most romantic city in all of India- it’s centered around a series of lakes and has multiple beautiful palaces to help earn this title (one of which is featured in James Bond- Octopussy), however we arrived with too high of expectations and therefore left disappointed. It’s times like that when we realize we are perhaps a little… saturated… The absolute highlight of Udaipur (and in fact one of our highlights in all of India) was a cooking course we took with a firey lady named Shashi. After her husband died when she was 32, she spent a year unable to leave her house due to the mourning requirements for women of her caste (Brahmin, the highest caste). As a Brahmin woman she was not permitted to work, despite having two sons to support. She survived by having her sons smuggle laundry to her house so she could wash it inside without being seen. Eventually, through a series of interventions with tourists, she started a cooking course- without being able to speak a word of English. Over time, and with more help from tourists, her class has become featured in the Lonely Planet, her English is excellent, and she has a line up of willing pupils outside her door. We spent over 5 hours in her home learning to make a wide range of classic Indian dishes- from basic chai (tea), to Indian breads (naan, roti, and parantha), to paneer (cheese), pakora (deep fried veggies), veg pulau, and of course chicken butter masala (as well as some veg based versions of masala curry). Beyond the food, meeting Shashi was a real pleasure- for someone who is still learning the English language, she has advanced to the point of mastering sass and sarcasm, which made for highly memorable evening!
We left Udaipur the following morning for a two segment bus journey that took over 24 hours to arrive at our destination of Aurangabad. Nothing to write home about, Aurangabad is the staging city for trips to nearby Ellora and Ajanta- both of which are home to World Heritage listed rock cut cave temples. These are massive temples carved into the side of cliffs by hammer and chisel, and are as old as the 2nd century BC. Ellora, the more impressive of the two spots, has 34 caves within a 2km distance, in equal parts of Jain, Hindu, and Buddhist religion. Ajanta, the older of the two, has 30 Buddhist caves carved around the inside of a horseshoe shaped gorge, many of which are covered on the inside by colourful paintings. Despite having seen many temples over our time in India, you can’t argue with the scale of these ones when considering their age, and the basic tools that were available at the time.
From the caves we hopped our last overnight train (having to push our way aboard as our car was swarmed by obsessed fans of some Bombay guru who happened to be in the next car down) to Mumbai, and made our way to the airport for a flight to Goa. Unsure of exactly what to expect, we had 5 days to kill and figured a trip to a more southern part of India would be a nice change- and we were right. We arrived in Panaji, the capital of Goa (little did we know that Goa is a province, and not a city), found ourselves a decent hotel, and wandered 3 doors down to an amazing restaurant in a little alley. We could feel the chaos slipping away immediately, and realized that what they say is true- Goa is sossegado (laid back). The next two days we rented a scooter and made our way around the Portuguese inspired, cathedral filled, ex-capital city of Old Goa, further inland to a spice plantation, and then to the northern tip of the province bypassing the chaotic beaches until we reached the almost deserted Keri beach. Finished with the northern half of the province, we caught a bus south and ended up in Agonda where we checked into a beach hut and revelled at the fact that there were about 13 people on the entire 3km stretch of sand. Shocked that there was still such a place left in Goa, we gave up our plans to explore the area by scooter and decided, for once, to stay still and… what’s that word? Oh ya- relax… Two days passed quickly and we had to uproot ourselves for our early morning flight back to Mumbai for the final three days.
Our arrival in Mumbai was not without trepidation- it is, after all, another gigantic Indian city. We arrived at our hotel before check-in, but they let us crash in a temporary room and we finally got settled and out on the sightseeing beat by noon. It took about 30 seconds to realize that Mumbai is… different. This is a city of 16 million people and yet it doesn’t feel hectic, overwhelming or chaotic. Truly incredible. There’s much to see that doesn’t involve entrance fees, temples, or tour guides. The city has a tonne of amazing Neo-Gothic architecture, and the ocean is on all sides (Mumbai is, after all, more than half built on land reclaimed from the ocean). For anyone who has read Shantaram, it’s fun to locate spots like Colaba Causeway, Chowpatty Beach, the Taj Hotel, and of course the infamous Leopolds. The distances between key sights are not vast (like Delhi) so walking around is easy and relatively peaceful. In fairness, it likely felt that way only because we didn’t stray too far from the city center and the main tourist sights- there’s no denying that there is a vast “underbelly” of Mumbai that would not have felt easy or peaceful. We’ve talked to travellers who hated Mumbai- and perhaps it’s because it was their entry point to the continent (or perhaps because it is shockingly expensive) but for us, as our exit point, it was a great city and a nice end to our time in India.
So, there you have it- our six weeks in India. I cannot begin to explain how all the words I’ve just used do nothing to capture our experiences here. I can’t even tell you for sure if I enjoyed my time… In the same way that India is a country of dichotomies, so too was our experience.
And finally, as some insight to life in India, here is a random list of things that you cannot avoid, and will frustrate you in ways you’ve never imagined, but make India… incredible…
1. The Head Wobble. This is a prime form of non-verbal communication used by all Indians, but particularly the men. It can mean anything and everything. You can ask a question, to which the answer can only be yes or no, and you’ll get a head wobble. You can ask a question that should require at least two full sentences to answer, and you’ll get a head wobble. You can ask what time it is, and get a frigging head wobble. It’s amazingly powerful, except to helpless tourists who can in no way decipher it.
2. The always knowing the answer, while never really having understood the question scenario. Once we asked directions to an internet café- in total we asked 6 people who all, without hesitation, gave us a confident answer. All 6 answers were different. None were correct. You can’t ask “Is this the way to Place A?” because the answer will always be “Yes.” However, if you ask “Which is the way to Place A?” the answer will be random and often not correct- it’s best to ask multiple times until a pattern emerges…or doesn‘t…
3. The paparazzi effect. We get asked to have our picture taken several times every day, and more times than that we have our picture taken with no request. When they ask it’s usually because they want to pose with us- a group will ask, and then individually cycle through so each one gets their own photo. The men will often ask Cam for permission to have a photo with me, and then will stand about 1 foot away while the picture is taken. Girls love standing with me- I don’t love it so much because I usually look like gigantor beside them. We occasionally say no to the request and I’m often ducking behind things to hide from the sleazy guys who don’t ask. It’s charming for maybe the first day. Now it’s irritating as hell.
And, for fun, a list of some of our top quotes from the last 6 weeks:
1. Cam: “I wasn’t sure the soap was clean.” (after requesting the hand sanitizer after washing his hands with soap in the public bathroom)
2. Kristin: “I’d probably murder a puppy for a Blizzard.” (while sitting on a hot, painfully slow, bus)
3. Cam: “Can ANY of the dogs in this country walk on all 4 legs?” (after watching yet another dog limp down the street)
4. Cam: “You know if the word ‘restaurant’ is spelled correctly, we probably can’t afford it.” (while choosing a lunch spot)
5. Kristin: “There’s nothing in the world that I want less than that.” (to vendors offering to sell drums, giant balloons, shawls, or other overpriced garbage)
And finally, I will sign off.
Until next time- Merry Christmas!
Kristin and Cam.
PS- For those of you who care more about the photos than the words- there are more to come… :)
Amazing- two posts in two days! (Yes, there’s another post down there for those of you who don’t check every day…)
