jueves, 23 de agosto de 2007

India is...

rickshaw on highway
street scene in delhi

holy cow




Day 1- Delhi. No sooner did I get off the plane (having been invited to one wedding already) I found out that what they say about the ubiquitous hoaxes is true. "Sir, pre-paid taxi? It is closed. Come this way." Taxi driver: "No, I have never heard of this hotel. Not there. I take you to a good hotel." "I don't want any money, I just want to practice my English... What is your country of origen?"

One beggar with stumps for feet held on to my wrist and wouldn't let go until he had his meal ticket. Got some Indian grub, stayed in an expensive $7 a night hotel (that's the most I've paid for lodging since), met an Italian traveler, Elizabeth, also moving north and together we hopped on an overnight 13-hour sleeper bus. I made the mistake of leaving my window open through which a sick israeli above me was able to project bile with which I sat for 2 hours. She had obviously eaten rice.

India is hot. Indian food is not that spicy... no stomach pains or cramps or messy bowel movements. I'm disappointed, I almost miss not having diarrhea, like I'm missing an Indian experience. India is kinda ilke central america but more colorful, eclectic, chaotic, beaurocratic, intense, stunning, impovershed, dry, wet, same-same, distinct, .... ok not at all like central america.

I've never sweat so much. i wipe my forehead and i am astonished to find it is an unending waterfall. didn't I just wipe that away? i drink lots of bottled water but with a heavy conscience, knowing that plastic bottles from tourists are a waste problem.

My daily mantra is: What the hell is going on??

Day 2-McLeod Ganj. Monks roaming the streets, as well as monkeys and cows, sharing space suspiciously harmoniously. I walked in the imaginary footsteps of Richard Gere and other adherents of the Dalai Lama, and gave my regards to the Buddha.

Day 3-Amritsar. If I put my trust in anyone, it will be a Sikh. I explored the Golden Palace which is the holy shrine center of the Sikh religion. The temple is open to everyone and is free, including accommodation in a gurudwara, guest house for pilgrims. The temple serves food to anyone who wants it, and approximately feeds 10,000 people a day at no cost. Everyone (hundreds at a time) sits cross-legged and is served a hearty meal of rice, lentils, curry, bread, and water. The experience is meant to show that everyone is equal.

There are rules such as covering your head, washing your feet, taking off and storing your shoes outside, sitting cross-legged in front of the pond, and as i negligently broke each one I was approached by a different orange-clad, spear-carrying turban-wearing Sikh guard who compassionately, patiently, with a smile and no English mimed instructions. He didn't have to be so nice; he had a spear. Sikhism is a mixture of Islamic and Hindu beliefs, mixing and accepting them both.

Riiggght, the Pakistan-Indian border. This makes no sense: they close the border every night. This being India it is a big to-do and so popular they built a stadium, on both sides, so both countries could dance and shout out how great their countries are, respectively. The guards do a crazy walk up and down, open the doors, close the doors, open the doors, close the doors, open the doors.... mirrored exactly by the Pakistani guards on the other side. They shake hands, and when they're done everyone rushes forward for a massive photo session with frozen-faced guards and then goes home. I dunno.

Day 4- Chardigarh and Haridwar. Or, more appropriately, Day 4- Bus. I spent 18 hours on a bus I think. But I got myself to Chardigarh where I went to this bizarre, gridded and spiritless capital modeled after western "green cities" for one purpose: to see the Rock Garden.

The rock garden is a 25-acre (!) fantasy land. Started by this guy named Nek Chand. He was a Public Works Department worker who made a garden that incorporated, well.... a little of everything. It is a labyrinth divided by dwarf doors and I felt a little like in Pan's Labyrinth. Worth the crazy route I took to get there.

If anyone wants waterfront property, I recommend Haridwar. Sure the half-burnt corpses and cows might rush by, but the Ganges will certainly bring you luck. The building will definitely be a fixer-upper... it may be more crumbling than standing.

Day 5-7 Rishikesh. Rishikesh was supposed to be a quick stop... two days ago, yet it has sucked me in. It's commercial, bustling, noisy, and crowded, and home of the "israeli invasion" that passes through the season on their motorcycles and is ever-visible. The pattern is: two to three years of army experience, then off to India.

I'm learning, first of many things, about going with the flow. I could demand and expect and plan an experience but chances are I'd be mighty unhappy swimming against the current of the Ganges. Better to let go of all expectations for the day -- i couldn't predict this, anyway.

I'm learning about the art of traveling alone. It is freeing, empowering -- not to always need a buffer-buddy to dullen the impact.

I'm still waking up thinking: wait, I'm in India?? How did I get here? And a big smile hits my face. **smile**

domingo, 5 de agosto de 2007

jessica's pics


here are some pics jessica took while on our trip to central america 2007. man they are rockin'. these are just a few.