Travel is Freedom!

4,000 Islands-- Dragged by another Canoe

lauramc — Sun, 29 Jul 2007 19:37:00 GMT

After a dissapointing 2-day trip into the Bolaven Plateau, I headed to the 4,000 islands (in the Mekong River) in the south of Laos with Becky (Brit) and Jenna (American). The place was stunning and I really enjoyed my time there. I've been waking up every day at 5 a.m. for whatever reason, and the first day, I went out for sunrise. It was spectacular over the river....red and pink, and I set up my tripod and got some great shots as an oarsman came past through the sunrise.

That day was "Buddha Day", so after sunrise I went over to the temple to observe and photograph the celebration. The whole village came, dressed in their best, with freshly cooked food carried in on large platters and gifts for the monks who would spend the next 3 months in the same monastery. People lit incense and candles and sat down on the floor of the temple, filling the place until people had to sit outside on the steps. (I was conveniently located in a corner with my tripod.) They chanted the same Buddhist chants I had learned at the retreat in Thailand (though a slightly different pronunciation and rhythm of the Pali text). Then the men got up and one by one put rice and other food in the monks' bowls lined up on the table. After they had finished, the women came, and then everyone ate together. What a feast! Such a beautiful tradition, and a calm and peaceful culture. Nobody gets upset, yells, or demands things. A good example for us!

We then rented a "canoe" for the day. Canoe = wooden long-tail, extremely narrow and shallow boat with wooden paddles. We set out in the river, the 3 of us, paddling away and going in nothing but circles. Becky was steering and directing us, but given that the current went in circles and I think the canoe was a bit caddywampus, it just didn't work. We stuck to the bank the best we could, and managed somehow to avoid hitting anything. We paddled for an hr. and 1/2 in the hot sun, then made it to the next island down, where we docked for a bit and took a walk. The island was BEAUTIFUL: Buffalos taking mud baths next to rice paddies, pigs and chickens wandering around, children calling "Sabai-dee," and thatch huts interspersed throughout. We came upon a temple (wat), and some nuns were about to have a meal. They invited us in, and put out a straw mat for us. We sat down and they looked at us in wonder, and us at them. We tried to communicate our ages, but not sure if it worked. They smiled and joked with each other, having a grand time, and their warmth was extended to us.

We proceeded to try to get our canoe back to our island, but with great difficulty....finally after about a half hour of struggling, we managed. We got out and walked to the huts nearby, finding some people who were very curious about us, how we'd managed to get there, and what we wanted. We played charades to communicate that we'd paddled all the way down here, were tired and sweaty, and would like another canoe with a motor to PULL US BACK UPSTREAM to the place we came from! We got all of that across, in addition to negotiating the whopping price of $8, with not ONE WORD of the same language being spoken! It's amazing what drawing some pictures and doing a lot of body language will do for you...

And all of this happened by 2 p.m.!!!! We finished the day at a great restaurant that served steamed fish with coconut milk and herbs, wrapped in banana leaf.....mmmmmmm!

Meditation After-Effects

lauramc — Wed, 25 Jul 2007 20:39:00 GMT

So I've been trying to meditate every day, but it's really only happening every OTHER day for about 40 minutes....not bad. I've definitely noticed changes in myself since the retreat finished. I'm definitely not as forgetful and scatter-brained as usual (of course, throw me back into a classroom, and I might be!) If I set something down, I remember where I put it. If I take off my shoes, I notice where I'm putting them. I've become a bit more calm, less high-strung, and more "in the present moment." Of course, that could just be because I'm traveling and not working. Or it could be that the meditation has had a slight effect....only returning to my "real" life (if that's what it really is) or "hectic" life will tell! Perhaps YOU can tell me, when you see me next!

Vientiene to Pakse

lauramc — Tue, 24 Jul 2007 20:10:00 GMT

I had a very good day in Vientiene yesterday, way better than expected, actually! Bought some stuff at the morning market, then I went to a temple with a "spa" of sorts on the grounds...I know, weird. But it was an herbal sauna (very naturally steamed, with a wood fire underneath the thatch hut....very safe, I realize) followed by 1 hr. massage for $4!!!! Unreal. Got some great shots of tuk-tuk drivers sleeping in hammocks in the backs of their trucks. Pretty cool! I'm leaving now for an overnight bus to pakse, which I JUST found out about, before I ate an amazing meal of grilled fish, papaya salad, and sticky rice with a fresh oj shake on the banks of the mekong....open-air cooking! Some Malaysian people on a tour came by while I was eating, and they looked at me for quite a long time, as though I was THE tourist attraction. They could not believe I was eating that fish there, and asked me if it was good, if it was fresh, etc...etc...and asked if they could take my photo. Why not? Sure. Pretty hilarious, them taking photos of an American girl eating some weird Asian food which just so happened to be a GRILLED FISH. And they are from Malaysia! Not a bad day, and then last night i took an overnight bus south to Pakse. Oddly enough, the only Japanese person on the bus was assigned the seat next to me! So we chatted in Japanese for a few hours. Poor bast#%d only has 7 days of vacation so he's spending it somehow in Laos. I don't know how a person could come all this way and only stay for a few days, but if that's the only choice you have, I guess it's ok. I met some people and we hired a jeep and a guide and tomorrow we head off the beaten path into the remote parts of southern Laos for 3 days. Should be an adventure! I won't be writing for a few days!

Vang Vieng, Laos

lauramc — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 20:17:00 GMT

Vang Vieng was amazing, I'm so glad I went there. There are these huge limestone mountains with the river running through and layers and layers of green rice paddies.....I rented a tuk-tuk and had the driver take me out to where people were transplanting rice. I was walking out on the little elevated banks they make between each paddy, weaving my way out to the people and snapping away. It was fun! I hope I got some good shots! After we had moved on from the rice paddies, it started raining so the tuk-tuk driver pulled over. Out I jumped with my poncho on, and went for a walk. I saw the most stunning scene as I walked across a bridge: 5 boys playing on the river banks in a misty scene of river and limestone mountains and forest looming in the distance. This better be one my best shots!

I stayed in a little bungalow along the river, it was really beautiful there with butterflies in the garden everywhere, the restaurant had the most amazing view, and the surroundings were very natural.

2 days ago was INSANE. I went tubing with this Aussie guy I met at my guesthouse (well, EVERYONE in town goes tubing here, so I was planning and so was he, so we ended up going together and sharing a dry bag.) They have all of these zip lines into the river and rope swings and stuff all along, with make-shift bars set up all along.....everyone drinks and jumps off the swings into the river. Super fun, but the Aussie guy got really drunk and couldn't maneuver his tube, and he stuck out in the river near our guesthouse--- with me swimming across the current, tube in one hand, to make it to shore---and him floating on down.....that SUCKED because finally I had to go into the restaurant wet in my bathing suit to get someone to go out and rescue him! They would never get away with doing any of this kind of crazy stuff in the west, they would end up getting sued, and insurance companies would just never have it. Good fun, tho! Met tons of people. My arms and shoulders hurt from swinging into the river!!

Yesterday we went to a crystal-blue lagoon and climbed up to a huge cave nearby by motorbike, a little more relaxed! The cave was amazingly cavernous, and there was a Thai gold reclining Buddha in the middle with the light coming in and shining on it. Very Cool. The Aussie guy has done a lot of photography so we set up the lighting together on my camera.....hopefully one of those will be a winner, we'll see!

Wash the Elephant

lauramc — Thu, 19 Jul 2007 20:24:00 GMT

Out of the town of Luang Prabang, I spent two days on a nice trip....first mountain biking for 2 hours out to an elephant camp where we rode an elephant for an hour...I'd done it before so it wasn't that great, but the lodge was nice and I stayed out there for one night. The next morning I got up at 6:30 to wash the elephants, which was VERY cool....I didn't know how fun that would be, but we rode out into the river on top of the elephant and then got off up to our chest and washed them with a brush. Pretty fun, the elephant seemed to really like her bath! But then something terrible happened, these other two tourists (riding the elephant completely alone with no mahout near them) got thrown off and one guy's head swelled up so bad, I felt soooo badly for him. Then the mahouts were beating the elephant, putting a hook into her head and punishing her so much. it was very violent, it really upset me. The guy could have broken his neck. But I saw him in town that night and he'd gone to a semi-hospital nearby and they told him he had a broken collarbone but his head was ok. Whew! In the afternoon we kayaked for 4 hours down the river, and I could have gotten SO MANY amazing photos but some of the time my camera was in the dry bag and then I ran out of film....oh well, I'm sure I got a couple of good ones out of the bunch that I took. People all along the way were fishing and some kids were floating downstream on a log, laughing. It was fun. Yesterday I came about 8 hour bus-ride south through the mountains. The mini-van was broken down most of the time, so we stopped in a lot of little villages and I got some great shots of kids and old people....my favorites! I was happy that the van kept breaking down! =) Now I'm in Vang Vieng

2 Days in Luang Prabang

lauramc — Tue, 17 Jul 2007 20:28:00 GMT

I've had a great time here in Luang Prabang, norhern Laos on the banks of the Mekong River. It's an old French-colonial city that is a Unesco World Heritage Site, so it gets a lot of money for upkeep and restoration, and it's simply beautiful. It's called Luang Prabang. This is one of my favorite TOWNS so far in Asia. Gold and red and blue-colored temples everywhere, mixed with French colonial architecture in the houses and guesthouses. Everything is made of solid wood (probably from deforestation of the surrounding area). And the Laos people are always smiling and friendly, nobody pushes me to buy anything, go anyplace, hire anyone! There are monks everywhere, and they actually talk to me--- ask me questions, invite me in, spend time lingering. The surrounding area is mountainous, but more hilly than mountains, with terraced fields in the valleys. Everything is green, and there are flowers and butterflies everywhere. I got up really early every morning to photograph the monks receiving alms (food from the villagers for their breakfasts)....it's such a beautiful tradition that they are still carrying on. Such a slow pace of life, i love it! I rented a bike for $1 per day and ride all over the town and along the Mekong river. I Took photos of the beautiful landscape and some fisherman too. I saw some crazy stuff in the markets: skinned monkeys, cow legs with the hooves still on, snakes alive squirming around in a bowl....all for sale for eating! I have visited tons of Buddhist temples/monasteries and talked with the novice monks. I think I got some good shots here, we'll have to see. today i went with Doug, a Canadian guy I met, to this beautiful waterfall with many many different levels of water and cascades on multiple tiers. I swam in several of the crystal turquoise pools.....cold but it felt good as it's really hot here (hotter than it was in bangkok, actually....tho after that HELLISH winter in Chicago, I am loving it!) It's a beautiful town, highly recommended!!!

10 Days of Buddhist Meditation

lauramc — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 23:46:00 GMT

OVERVIEW, WRITTEN AFTER THE LAST DAY:

I'm exhausted, and tomorrow morning I'm going right back to Wat Po here in Bangkok for another massage. I woke up every day for 11 days straight at 4 AM, (Dad would be proud) and we were in silence for 10 days straight. No talking, Nothing. They gave us two meals a day, the last one was at noon. I did yoga as the sun rose, on a concrete floor (which didn't hurt my knobby knees at all....yeah right!) They gave us wooden pillows! We bathed with cold water and buckets, with water taken from large cement holdings. Everything was outside in nature, and I learned a TON about Buddhism. Meditating is VERY DIFFICULT. Just try it: Sit still and close your eyes and focus on your breath, nothing but your breath. When a thought pops into your head, let it go and focus again on your breath. How many times do the thoughts return? It's SOOOOOO difficult! We're all full of a bunch of jumble in our minds. Read on for details of my day-to-day experience there....

DAY 1.

I've arrived at Suan Mokh International Retreat Center in southern Thailand, for a SILENT 10-day Theravada Buddhist Meditation retreat. The setting is beautiful: palm and banyan trees, warm breezes, and open-air pavilions in which we will eat, meditate, and do yoga. There's a pond on the grounds, and a hotsprings for our daily relaxation! But my room is like a cell: all concrete (including the bed), with just a small straw mat over it and a WOODEN pillow! We are supposed to bathe while wrapped in a sarong, by pouring cold water over our heads with buckets. And we will be waking up at 4:00 a.m. EVERY DAY to meditate, followed by yoga facing the sunrise at 5:15 a.m. Two meals will be served, the last of which will be at 12:30 p.m. Hmmmm.....Maybe this isn't going to be all that fun....

DAY 2.

Ok, I'm not supposed to be writing. This is Day 2, and silence means NO WRITING, TALKING, READING, WATCHING SHOWS, or LISTENING TO MUSIC. Basically, all of the things we normally fill our lives with. This is the hardest thing I've ever done In My Life. No pillow, no fan, no electricity except for 3 hours per day, no sinks or showers, no mirrors, and no baring our butts to the world in the hotsprings, like they do in Japan. Waking up at 4 is extremely painful. Not to mention the yoga, again on just a straw mat, (none of this cushy yoga-mat stuff), the concrete digging into my knees. Then we have to listen to this old Thai monk drone on and on about impermanence and suffering and not clinging to things and that meditation is the way out of worldly suffering. And I DO feel pretty calm, given all of this TORTURE. I sleep during each breaktime--- and I fall asleep immediately. Very unlike me. My knees are killing me from sitting in meditation-- it's SOOOO painful. We are cultivating "mindfulness" -- concentration and one-pointed attention. My thoughts race around through my head uncontrollably, it's so difficult to just pay attention to the breath, letting everything else go. I'm glad that I came, but thoughts of escaping back to the beach, or to Bangkok, or to Laos early, or to taking photos, or to planning my school year....they hit me almost constantly. But then, I guess that's my general "out," isn't it? Escaping. To stay with it, keep going, try to calm my mind....this is what I have come here to do.

Two girls I met on the bus on teh way here had learned about this place from the Lonely Planet guidebook--ha! What a JOKE. Neither of them knew anything about what they were getting themselves into, and neither of them lasted a day. One girl read the material and didn't even sign up, and the other one stayed one night, and left in the middle of a meditation session the next morning--- practically RUNNING out of there to go and pack up her stuff. At least I knew full well what I was getting myself into.

There are two meals per day: one at 8 a.m., a kind of rice gruel soup with cucumbers and cabbage to crunch down with it, and at 12:30 is lunch--- kind of spicy but yesterday we had a very nice glass-noodle dish. Not bad food, but last night I was STARVING. Then I had a HUGE spider in between the wall of my room and my neighbor's room. The legs were so long and it was holding a big white stomach, which I knew was going to turn into little baby spiders all over my room if I didn't do something about it SOON. I motioned for help, and one of the Thai nuns helped me get it out of my room, and as soon as she did, it burst into millions of spiders almost immediately (with no small trauma to me, either). Whew!

Last night, after a walking group meditation session around the pond, listening to frogs and crickets and watching the moon rise above the palm trees, I had a dream that I went to the movies and ate a huge popcorn.

DAY 3.

This is the hardest day yet. I'm seeing everything I go through in life---all while sitting and watching my thoughts race through my mind. I realize how I struggle to escape the things I somehow end up doing. I also realized how I am never truly "present" where I am--- I'm always thinking of the past or the future. I'm always racing from one thing to the next--- in action and in mind.

Through not talking to anyone, I have also realized how much I always go to talk to someone or call someone when I have a problem-- even a tiny problem. I find myself wanting to say, "My KNEES hurt! My BACK's in pain! I HATE rice gruel soup!" Somehow, telling someone makes me feel better, keeps me going. But I've realized that it only keeps me focused on what's wrong, on my suffering--- by getting other people involved in it, it becomes more justified, more important. Instead of just acknowledging it for what it is, and letting it go, I harp on it. I have to always TELL people what's going on with me. I've also noticed that I'm very social, even in my silence. I'm always smiling at people or making eye contact....and deep down, what I want to do is to chit-chat about what we're doing, and how hard it is....and ask if they think so too. But I can't.

Getting up at 4 this morning, I thought I might DIE. My bones ached from the hard cement under my one-inch mattress I found upstairs and put under my straw mat. I could hardly get up. But I did, and each day I am getting a little stronger, and a little better at yoga! And did I mention that meditating is so painful! My back, my knees, I have tried every meditation posture imaginable, and they ALL hurt. But I'm determined to keep going....7 loooooooooooong more days.

DAY 5.

Did I mention that I'm not supposed to write? I'm not. And I can see why....it causes me to think more and more about what I'm going to write next....about describing my experiences, instead of letting them go. And I'm not supposed to be THINKING, at all. I'm supposed to be suspending thoughts, letting them go, and focusing all of my attention on my breath. And this, I must say, is harder than anything I've ever done in my life. Now I'm using a little meditation bench, so I've bypassed most of the knee pain I was experiencing before, yet it still takes tremendous effort just to get through 3 in and out breaths before my mind wanders off to engage in swimming in the sea.....It's a good thing I'm just scatterbrained, and not full-on A.D.D.! And this rice-gruel brekkie that they give us DAYINANDDAYOUT is making me recall with vivid fondness the rice and beans of my Dominican Republic trip, back when I was 19.

Anyhow, once I get through the 4 a.m. wakeup nightmare, I quite enjoy being here! There is an English monk here who gives the most insightful, well-organized, lucid, hilarious, and interesting talks each day--- all without notes. I get there early to make sure I don't miss a word of it. His mind is so clear that he can organize his hour-long talks impeccably so that we understand everything so well. He has described all of the steps of "Anapanasati," or Mindfulness with Breathing, which is the path the Buddha laid out as the way to enlightenment. Of course, almost none of us will ever be able to achieve this "enlightenment," but creating more peace, serenity, and loving-kindness in our lives is enough. Sometime perhaps I'll type up all the notes I took during my time here, but for now let's just suffice it to say that I learned a HEAP about Buddhism. And he entertained us, to boot.

Day 7.

How about that? The 7th day of the 7th month of the 7th year....and it's Day 7 of the retreat! Today the English monk explained about defilements of the mind, focusing on the main two: greed, and aversion. He said that there are many others, but many people are dominated by these two. The "greed" types (that's me!) try to bring everything to themselves, they collect things, want to experience everything, are friendly and generous, and always looking toward others for pleasure, interaction, and stimulation. They are always thinking about the future, and basically indulge in pleasurable things. The "aversion" types try to push things out of their lives, away from themselves. They don't collect a lot of belongings or material goods, they are more minimalist, skeptical. They can be more negative, and tend to dwell on the past. He told us that these both cause much suffering for people, that when we hear, we should just hear. When we do anything sensory, we should just experience it, not categorize it as good or bad, not labeling it or creating dramas about it. Life, and everything in it, is a process. And the only thing making ANY of it good or bad are our minds-- making it so. Meditating will help us take a look at what we think is good or bad in our lives, and see the other side of it. Maybe I don't need to travel as much...maybe I don't need to do so many things at school...maybe I don't need to get so attached to things, to people. Maybe I need a little LESS stimulation. A little less pleasure. A little less desire. A little more contentment.

DAY 8.

Today I went for an interview with the English monk. After I had spent a couple of minutes explaining some problem I'm having with long breathing, he said, "You don't BLINK." I said, "What? I don't? What do you mean?" And he still said, "No, you don't. You still haven't!" And I guess I realized in that moment that I had just been staring and hadn't blinked at all. He said, "That's very strange, I've never seen that before. Do you wear glasses or something?" "No, perfect vision." "Are you mad?" "I don't think so!" "No, you don't seem mad." And then I realized it: I don't blink at all, in my life. I never slow down, never take a step back. I'm always over-involved, knowing everyone, doing everything, traveling everywhere. Maybe slowing down, BLINKING, so to speak, would be good for me. I'm going to use this motto of "BLINK" to remind me to meditate each day when the retreat finishes, to slow down, to take more time with things. Blink.

DAY 9.

My ear is bothering me terribly since yesterday, lots of pain inside. I think it might be a pimple, so I went to the office and told the lady about it. She took out some antiseptic, and dug out what she thought was a pimple, poking it with some stem of an herbal plant she picked out of the jungle. Hmmm, I thought....I wonder if this is going to work.

DAY 10.

The following quote sums up what meditation is for. And I definitely feel more peaceful after just sitting with myself for days on end, in nature, and examining how I go about living my life....watching my "monkey mind" jump from one thought to the next.

"The purpose of meditation is personal transformation. The 'you' that goes in one side of the meditation experience is not the same 'you' that comes out the other side. It changes your character by a process of sensitization, by making you deeply aware of your own thoughts, words, and deeds. Your arrogance evaporates and your antagonism dries up. Your mind becomes still and calm, and your life smoothes out. Meditation reduces your fear, tension, and worries. Restlessness receds and passion moderates. Thus meditation properly performed prepares you to meet the ups and downs of existence."

--Ven. Henepola Gunaratana

(A Forgotten Entry) - A Week in Leh

lauramc — Tue, 1 Aug 2006 01:29:00 GMT

July 25, 2006

After 4 days of essentially doing nothing except hanging out with Ori, Shir, Guy (Israelis) and Heike (German woman) in the Germany Bakery's rooftop cafe lounge area, playing "Shithead," (a new and decent card game I learned from the Israelis), eating nutella pancakes, and trying to get over existing in such high altitude with a bad sore throat, we decided to do something. We decided that we could not take one more day of ordering a "cold coffee" and waiting for them to brew it and then cool it off in the refrigerator for 70 minutes before serving it lukewarm was JUST too much. The next day, Ori and I determined, we'd go to Thiksey Tibetan Monastery.

We set out quite late in the day, having read that the monastery was only 17 km from Leh. After walking to the bus station and finding out which bus would get us there, we walked through the market nearby. A lady was selling green peas-- the kind you take the string off of, open, and eat the peas inside. The kind Dad used to grow in the garden and I used to eat raw when I was a kid. I'd been craving fresh foods, so I bought 20 rupees worth, which ended up being 2 kilos! She gave them to me wrapped up in newspaper, which was going to be difficult to carry in my backpack... Kids started surrounding us, pulling on my arms, so I gave them some peas... only to incur more begging. But I got some amazing shots of these kids, I hope they turn out well!

We sat in the front of the bus, me right next to the bus driver. The bus waited to be full, and then grumbled along the desert road at 40 km per hour, the bus driver talking to me about interesting sites around Leh, finally dropping us off in front of the monastery, a huge cluster of buildings built up one side of a steep desert hill. It was sunny and hot, very dry. So we climbed slowly, stopping frequently to drink water in the heat, take photos, and spin the Tibetan prayer wheels for the video. The top gave us a magnificent view of the area, with mountains looming in the distance, a river cutting the valley distinctly in half, with the lush green half on one side, the desert on the other. It's hard to believe that people can exist up here in this desert-like mountainous terrain that changes so quickly from hot scorching desert sun to cold, clear nights. We walked through the monastery, looking at meditation halls and old Buddhist paintings. We took photos of each other from the top, and lingered around in the peaceful environment. On the way down, we noticed a room we hadn't looked in, so I popped up to see what was inside. It was a huge Buddha, so we took off our shoes and went in. A large Buddha about 2 stories tall was gilded in gold, decorated all around its body with multiple colors all around it. I love visiting Buddha statues, they are probably the one type of thing I never get sick of seeing....

On the bus-ride back to Leh, we ran into a couple of English guys who we invited to share a taxi with us to the top of Leh Palace, looming over the city of Leh, for sunset. The view at the top was of the town, painted in streams of sunlight, streams of shadows, with the mountains a dark blue in the distance behind, Tibetan prayer flags fluttering in the foreground. The 4 of us payed $1 each to go inside the crumbling, run-down, empty rooms of the palace, climbing up rickety ladders and through dark stairs until we finally reached the top. Hands down the most un-impressive "palace" I've ever seen, but we all agreed that the view overlooking Leh was amazing.

The next day, several of us were walking into a small shop, when Ori and I saw one of those English guys talking to another girl....and he was talking about us. He said, "...On the bus we met this Israli guy and an American girl. She was kind of attractive, actually." And then he turned around and saw us, not knowing whether we had heard him or not....and the blank look on his face was precious....

I bought a Buddha statue today, brass and other metals with designs on the body and around the back, sitting on a decorative pedestal. Beautiful!

(A forgotten entry) - Searching for Caves in Manali

lauramc — Tue, 1 Aug 2006 01:01:00 GMT

July 17, 2006

This morning I woke up, went outside to the patio of the New Dharma Hotel, and sat down, staring at the snow-tipped mountains in the distance and the deep valley and river below. The mountains here look different each morning and evening. I soon struck up a conversation with Brent, a lifeguard from New Zealand. He was very friendly, and said he had joined up with a couple of Americans who were up here for a month. He himself was soon off to Nepal, where he'd work as a volunteer teacher for a month or so. Gail, from NYC, soon joined us, and after breakfast we decided to go hiking and look for a cave that was on my map. We started walking down the hill in Vashisht, passed the turn-off to Manali, and wound down a flat road along the river. The three of us chatted, Gail dominating the converstaion with how she's never worn hiking boots before, how she needs to buy several more tops here that fit her style, how she's come a long way--- as before, she'd ALWAYS worn platforms and high heels. Ugggh......this is what I had come so far to get away from. I wear high heels at home too. Big Deal. Who Cares? This is not even worth talking about. You're in INDIA!!! I guess I don't have a lot of patience for this kind of stuff when I'm traveling. It just ceases to matter. It was almost as painful to listen to her in this environment of world travelers, hippies, and non-materialistic people as it was to see the heaps of garbage that had been piled down one of the cliffs we passed.

The small houses looked a little like horse stables, but with beautiful doors on the fronts. A bus passed us at the speed of a snail, loaded down with people to the point where I wondered how it even could move with so much weight: people and luggage stacked on the roof, men hanging off the sides, hanging onto the back, feet on the rear bumper. We walked and walked until we finally went over a small bridge, and then turned off the main road alongside a rocky river. As we walked through the rocks, we passed donkeys and cows, grazing and drinking from the river. We gradually climbed upward, reaching a couple of flat plateaus where we sat to take a rest. Eventually, we came to a huge waterfall, which we almost missed as the view of it could only be seen by climbing down and through a small patch of trees. What a powerful waterfall it was! The water was just pounding down through the valley, crashing over the rocks, and we realized that even if there was a cave there, we weren't getting to it by going down toward that waterfall! So we decided to go up, in the end climbing up a metal ladder and onto a road which led to some sort of military-looking construction site. Deciding we'd cross the site and go around it and up through the trees to the next level, we headed to the forest on the other side. When we got there, a security man came and told us to leave, that this was a restricted site and we could not go any further. We said OK, and turned to walk back along the road. Finally we found a shortcut leading back down to the river we initially had walked on, and so we went back out the way we had come. Back out on the road, we crossed the bridge again and hoped someone would pick us up...a taxi, a truck, anything. We had walked more than 5 kilometers, and just wanted to go back to town and get some food. Finally, two men in a small car picked us up. We sat in the back as they discussed something in Hindi in the front seat, eventually dropping us off in Manali and not charging us even one rupee! We spent the rest of the afternoon going through the shops, looking at all of the things for sale, Gail buying her tops. I lost my sunglasses....bummer! The end of the day was spent in a rooftop restaurant, eating one of the worst curries I've had in India. But the walk had been beautiful, and Brent was really cool. (Didn't I know another very cool Brent from New Zealand, back when I lived in Japan? Yes, in fact....we were part of a 4-some that took our first trip to Thailand together in 1993.) I sadly said goodnight, and headed back to my room to prepare for my 6 a.m. 2-day Jeep ride to Leh....

Varanasi - Deeper Understanding

lauramc — Mon, 31 Jul 2006 19:51:00 GMT

July 31, 2006

I realized since writing my journal about Varanasi....the people here are so poor and have had so much suffering over the centuries...if they didn't believe in something-- be it the holy Ganges river, karma, reincarnation or whatever-- they couldn't go on. If they had no beliefs, nothing to cling to, what would the meaning of their lives be? It's easy for us to be logical and see the truth about how "dirty" and "polluted" things are, because we don't need anything, because we often have the power to change things in our societies. But for them, most dreams are not going to come true, they are not going to change their societies. They have nothing but the everyday joy of believing they are purified by bathing in the river, the everyday joy of playing cards along the river, washing their animals, taking a massage there. This simple beliefs and pleasures keep them going. And the burning corpses, the river that takes everything in into itself, accepts everything as would a god...this is the cycle of life, the cycle of the earth. Living things, dying things....burning corpses, bathing children-- drinking, washing their animals, their clothing. Every stage of the human existence is showing its face along this river, all of them, together as one. We have become so separated in our developed world rat-race lives--- from the earth, our natural environment, animals, each other....I don't think most of my students have even seen a cow...most of us go home alone at night and close our doors, oblivious to the person living next door. our landmarks of birth and death take place in institutional places nowhere near where a person actually lives one's life. here, it is all taking place together, on this riverbank, without fanfare, without lament, all of it wrapped up in one big bundle called "life." it really is beautiful, actually, seeing the people here being so natural with the earth, the animals, everything. I suppose I kind of began to understand it a bit more yesterday, as I just sat and watched....

Cross-cultural Comprehension Capacity Reaches Limit in Varanasi

lauramc — Sat, 29 Jul 2006 14:48:00 GMT

July 26, 2006

My environment changed dramatically today. I came from Leh, the laid-back northern town where very few people hassled or hustled me, where the pace was slow, the weather was hot but dry in the daytime and very chilly at night. Now I'm in Varanasi, a hot, hectic and very much alive place about 14 hours east and a bit south of Delhi. It's been dubbed the "Holy City" of the Hindu religion, the place where the dead are brought to be cremated on the banks of the Ganges River, which I saw for the first time today. It is a massively wide river which looks like a giant milk coffee, frothy pollution all over the surface. It has only sand on the eastern bank, and Varanasi city and its "ghats" on the western bank. "Ghat" is the term used for sections of the riverbank which have each been layed with stone and staircases, temples and monuments, making it easy for people to access the river....some of them are used for bathing, others for cremating bodies, others for laundry, etc....

Behind the ghats is the old city of Varanasi, with small alley-like streets, buildings going up 3 or 4 stories on each side, with the 1st floor of each being a shop about the size of 2 or 3 phone booths. This is the most colorful place I've seen in India. They sell everything in these small shops: fried dough, samosas, vermillion, Hindu religious objects, fruits, spices, candies, flowers, bangles, incense, beads, saris, silk and other material....anything you can imagine. Large bulls and buffaloes swish their tails with force, dogs and goats compete for space in the narrow streets, people avoiding them (and their droppings) as they hurry past, shuffling along the muddied stone streets, sticky from the ongoing monsoon rains. Children run barefoot through the winding alleys, trying to sell me postcards, occasionally asking for money. Women are dressed in brightly-colored saris, wearing lots of gold jewellery and red dots between their foreheads, signifying marriage. Garbage is pushed into the spaces which open up between buildings, and the scent of incense mixed with garbage, cow crap, and frying foods fills the air. There are flies everywhere, so I keep one hand free to fan it in front of my face. Motorbikes and bicycles occasionally blare their horns, signaling for everyone to get over so they can pass through. Walking by each shop, someone inevitable says, "Madame, have a look? Madame, which country? Madame, how are you today?" (Here, I'm constantly called Madame....not Ma'am, or Miss, but Madame.) Sometimes I bother to respond or nod, sometimes I don't....

I went to the "Ganga Fuji Restaurant" for dinner tonight, which ended up being an excellent choice. A French couple inside told me they'd tried several places, but this one was the best...while joking that, since they are French, they are hard to please! The owner was a very nice man, recommending the Vegetable Kasmiri curry, Nan bread, and yogurt dish with cucumber. I accepted, and all was devoured heartily! When I was done, he brought his 8-month old daughter for me to hold, leaving me with her for quite some time. She was very cute, wtih ankle & wrist bracelets, gold necklace and a red & white checked dress. I held her as she pounded her hands on the table, looking around...when suddenly my lap began to feel very wet. I picked her up, and realized that she was peeing all over me! No diaper, nothing! I held her over the floor as she finished, then gave her back to a man who worked at the restaurant, who didn't apologize or look as though anything strange had happened at all! Apparently, no babies here wear diapers...I wonder what their parents do, walk around with baby pee and poop all over them all the time??? I got my check, said goodbye, and headed to the nearest shop to buy laundry soap and return to my hotel....since I heard that all laundry here is washed in the Ganges, I decided I'd do my own.

All over town are men pilgrims, dressed in orange, vermillion on their faces, walking barefoot through the alleys and larger streets, carrying decorations and chanting mantras. This is a big festival month in Varanasi, and young men have walked barefoot for hundreds of miles to participate. Rickshaw bicycles and 3-wheeled auto-rickshaws are everywhere. I shared a ride into town from the airport with an older Indian man here on business in pharamceutical sales. He, like others I've met, was surprised to find that I'm alone here in India. He asked me about Pres. Bush, telling me that he believes it's all about the oil. I asked him about the Indian caste system, and he said, "It's there. It's still there. But things are changing slowly. But here in India, nobody tells anyone else what to do or how to think, we are free to change our own minds and this is how society changes. Nobody forces us to change our thinking, but the people are very much forward-thinking, thinking about the positive future of India." My response? "Well, things probably change quite slowly, then, because the people at the top have no REASON to change the structure of society, and the lower castes have no POWER to change anything. So the only real way change will happen is if someone at the top tells them they must change, enforces rules that are above the natural tendencies of people, forces them to behave in ways which will move society forward. If someone tells them they must change, change will happen faster....or at least I think so." He was silent, giving no response.....I suppose I'm a little too opinionated for a woman here, especially a woman talking to an older man! (Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, now does it??!) I suppose my cross-cultural comprehension abilities are failing me...

July 27, 2006

It's been a full day already, and it's only 1:30 p.m. After a banana chocolate pancake and some coffee at my guesthouse, I set out for the ghats, camera in hand. Before I even got to the riverbank, a little boy, 11 years old named Suni, joined me. At first he wanted to sell me some postcards -- I said "No, I'm making my own postcards, look!" showing him my camera. He seemed to accept that, and led me all along the southward ghats, stopping along the way for me to take photos of people bathing, selling flowers, preparing decorations for ceremonies, repairing boats, washing clothes, and taking baths alongside the buffaloes doing the same. There were many old people down here--- with white beards, wrinkled hands. People with orange cloth wrapped around them that hasn't been made into "clothing," per se. "Boat, Madame?" Tomorrow I'd like a boat ride, but for today, I'm happy to just follow Suni, leading me along, deterring people from approaching me. Goats lined the stairs leading up out of the ghats, as do ducks , cows, dogs...and laundry is washed and hung up or laid out on rocks to dry. It's colorful-- the mixture of people, the clothing, the flowers, the glass beads being sold. When we couldn't go any further, we turned back-- this time walking through the very narrow streets of small shops. Eventually, Suni's older cousin, Babu, joined us. He chatted with me in surprisingly good English for a 14-year-old, telling me he is in 9th grade, asking me loads of questions. Another boy then tagged along, Babu's friend Raj... They took me to a Nepalese temple with intricately carved wood. They lead me up 5 flights of a really narrow staircase of their building to show me the view of the close-knit buildings of Varanasi from the top of theirs. They took me to the "Burning Ghat," the place where they cremate bodies. All along the upper banks of the ghat, huge piles of wood were everywhere, stacked in anticipation. I saw a dead body, laid out on a bamboo stretcher, wrapped in an orange cloth and covered in flowers, dipped in the Ganges to purify it, and then placed on some stairs for a long period of time. Finally, when some wood had been piled up and the fire started with the flame from an "eternal fire" that supposedly hasn't been put out for 7,000 years, they placed the body inside the fire, removing it from the bamboo stretcher and piling the stretcher onto others. Several such fires were burning at the same time, so the area was filled with the smoke from wood and incinerating corpses, burning my eyes to the point where I had to turn away for a long time. I was told that after the burning is completed, family members throw unburned bones into the Ganges: skulls, chest, and hip bones which are difficult to burn. According to the Hindu religion, being burned here in Varanasi means that you will go straight to Nirvana, or heaven. This made me wonder...if all one has to do to end the cycle of living on earth, of good and bad karma and reincarnation, is to be burned here....why does anyone even think of doing things for good karma, of being reincarnated? Why don't they all just be burned here, reach Nirvana, and never return to earth? I've received one answer: Because even after reaching Nirvana, people are reincarnated again. "Then what's the point of ever reaching Nirvana?" I wonder. No answer.... Again, the cross-cultural comprehension problem....

Men with large pans filled with ashes were knee-deep in the river, sifting through them. When I asked who these men were and what they were doing, a boy explained to me that the men who work at the ghats were looking for jewellery from the ashes of the dead people. "What do they do with the jewellery they fine?" I asked. "Sell it in the marketplace, and keep the money." "Why don't the families keep the jewellery?" "No! In Hinduism we don't do this. The jewellery belongs to the dead person, not to the family." "But now it belongs to some random workman who didn't even know the dead person...and he doesn't treasure the jewellery, he goes and sells it. Shouldn't it rather be treasured by the family, passed down from generation to generation in the family?" "No, it's bad luck to do that." "OK." Will I be able to understand anything in this place?

The boy also explained to me that several types of people are not burned: children under 10 years old (because their souls are still pure), pregnant women (because they carry the pure-souled child), holy men (they don't need to be burned to reach nirvana), lepers, and people who've been bitten by a snake (so as not to spread the disease in the air.) With these types of people, they are wrapped in something, tied to some rocks, and dropped to the bottom of the Ganges, which sometimes results in the strong currents of the river lifting them to the top... I said to the boy, "Wow, the river must be quite dirty with all of those dead bodies in it!" And he said, "We never say that the river is dirty! That is like saying that your pregnant mother is dirty, or that the holy man is dirty!" I responded, "I'm not talking offensively about the people buried in the river, I'm talking simply about the cleanliness, the healthiness, of it. For example, if I were to drink some water from this river, I would probably get very sick." "No, it's perfectly clean. It will make you pure, it will make you stronger, and you will live a much longer life if you drink it." "OK," I muttered. (Considering that over 30 untreated sewers pour into the Ganges at Varanasi, that there is literally no infused oxygen in the river at this point, and many waterbourne diseases wreak havoc on the 400 million people living along its banks, the boy was speaking solely on his beliefs, not on anything grounded in reality. Ah, the problems religious beliefs cause the world...This time, it was clearly HE who couldn't understand.) I was not allowed to take any photos of the burning ghats-- that would be bad karma. Then they wanted a donation for 1 kg of cremation wood for the poor, which would cost me $3. I gave $1, not being sure if they were just stealing my money or actually using it for this purpose....and they were not happy. They said that they weren't forcing me to pay, but they wanted me to buy 1 kg worth of wood. I said, "Look, you ARE trying to force me. You asked me to give, so I gave, and now you're wanting more. 50 rupees is enough." Then he said, "OK."

After the burning ghat episode, the kids asked if I'd like to go to their uncle's silk shop. I said that I didn't need any silk, but "OK, why not?" He showed me beautiful silk scarves that would make nice gifts, so I bought a few. These kids really are skilled at pretending they're my friends, while really what they are doing is leading me to places where I'll spend some rupees and they'll get a comission!! "Oh well, I don't have to find my way around this maze of streets, and I'm enjoying their company, so it's ok," I thought. In fact, I don't think I'd have seen as much without them. Walking back to my guesthouse, we agreed that they would meet me again at 6 p.m. to view a "puja," or prayer ceremony at a nearby ghat. As we walked, a guy with a turban looked at me and pointed to a basket he held in one hand. When I looked down, he lifed the lid and a cobra emerged, its tongue flipping. My eyes got huge as I looked back up at the guy, my body shivering. He smiled as I kept on walking.

July 28, 2006

Today I took a 5:30 a.m. sunrise row-boat trip down the Ganges River, (with 4 Spaniards I met at my hotel). We all gasped as saw 2 dead bodies floating in the river....one of them was being eaten by 2 birds, the other was bloated like it had balloons for limbs, lifted up off of the water's surface. And we gasped not so much because of the bodies, but because of what else goes on alongside those dead bodies....every part of the daily life of human beings takes place in this river. And to us, perhaps, this proximity with nature, with the water that we drink, with the animals surrounding us....it seemed quite dirty and shocking. As we proceeded down the river, we saw two human legs sticking out of a burning funeral pyre along the edge of the river, and people defacating all along the riverbank, cleaning themselves afterward in the river water. This place is definitely challenging my capacity to understand other cultures....in looking at this I remember that I'm not supposed to judge, just observe. But this is one of the most shocking human existences I've ever seen, and it's challenging me a great deal. I can understand why the river was thought to be holy in historical days, as water gives life to people, and it's something to be thankful for. And after all, this is one of the hugest rivers in the world, and India has an over 5,000 year history to be respected. But isn't something "holy" supposed to be treated with the utmost of care? This river is dumped in, polluted, defacated in, humiliated, from my viewpoint. I'm finding it difficult to think that the Indians here believe that it will make them healthy and strong to drink the water, to bathe in it. All along the river, people are doing just that: drinking the water, bathing in it, herds of buffalos dip themselves, with dead animals wrapped in cloths, floating around under boats. The 30 sewers pouring into the river at this point make it the most polluted point along the course of the Ganges, causing many waterborne diseases among the people. It is incomprehensible to me, and I'm struggling to understand how people cannot literally see the dirtiness, cannot care about the floating bodies or the sewage or the filth, cannot make connections between this and the diarreah, the diseases which must take some of their loved ones. I just cannot understand, unless I just chalk the whole thing up to an incompetent and uncaring government, traditional, un-updated religious practices and beliefs, and a rampant lack of environmental education. But then, I suppose, this is why I came to India. I came to experience things which would challenge me, which I cannot possibly comprehend. I have experienced many cultural things I couldn't understand....but I've never experienced anything of this level of incomprehensibility. I have the feeling that the images of Varanasi in my mind will stay there for a very long time. Perhaps my mind will sort things out, have more respect for this extremely long history, for the customs and yogic way of life that have kept this country in the forefront of peaceful and healthy practices for thousands of years...

July 29, 2006

Today was a good day, despite the fact that my camera broke. And despite my level of incomprehensiblility (is that a word?) of the situation of the Ganges River, I love Varanasi. It's a vibrant, colorful place, and I love the atmosphere here. This morning I went down to a nearby ghat and just sat and watched the people. As I decided to take my first photo of the day, however, I realized that my camera was broken! After buying a bunch of loose glass beads for my sis-in-laws from a street vendor, I didn't stay much longer....I soon headed out to the main road to look for a camera place that could perhaps help me out. I walked for nearly a 1/2 hr., stopping for the rainstorm, buying a soda, watching people, asking around for a photo shop. Finally I came to one, and after the guy examined my camera for some time, he told me that he knows a mechanic, that perhaps the mechanic could help me. He noted that it was 3 or 4 kilometers away, and that his son could take me there, if I like, for 100 rupees. I said OK, but had to return to my guesthouse first to get some more cash. When I got back to the camera shop with my cash, the cameraman's son and I walked for some distance to get a "shared autorickshaw," which cost only 7 rupees per person (about 15 cents)! This was a new discovery for me! Anyhow, we arrived some time later in a different area of town, and walked to the camera shop, a tiny place the size of 3 phone booths, cameras all over the shelf overhead, one man working on a Canon with small metal tools. We gave him my camera, and he immediately started working on it. After a while, he had fixed the problem in the body of my camera and started unscrewing my lens. He explained that the mirror inside the camera had gotten tilted somehow, and he had fixed that quickly. But the lens couldn't focus, and so he needed to fix the aperture, and it would take about an hour. I told the man who had brought me that I was happy to wait for it, that he could go. I gave him 100 rupees, and off he went, asking me over and over if I was sure I didn't need him anymore, was I certain that I knew where my hotel was, etc...., which I was. I read my book as the man worked on my camera, and in less than an hour, it was working like a charm, for less than $14!!! "What a STEAL," I thought. I decided to take some photos with my newly repaired camera, so I got up on a concrete divider between two lanes of slowly-moving traffic, taking photos of a cow laying in the middle of the street, motorbikes going around him as if he was a set of orange construction cones. Hopping a rickshaw, I then headed back to my area of town. After he had dropped me off too far from where I stay, I wandered around looking for an electricity converter, which I need to charge my videocamera. After stopping in 3 shops, I finally found one that had what I needed. The guy wanted 350 rupees for the thing (about $9) which I thought was WAY too much. I bargained him down to 250, (about $6), and off I went, camera fixed and converter in hand! As I neared my area, I took a few photos, one of an old man with a huge tree of flutes next to him that he was trying to sell. One man with a baby began talking to me, in a different way from others...he explained that he was a teacher, his father a professor. We chatted for a while, as dozens of barefoot young pilgrim men dressed in orange gathered around us. Finally, they motioned for me to take their photo...but I wanted to be in it too, so I had the man give me his baby and take a photo of me with the men in orange and the man with the flutes! Let's hope it turns out....

I leave Varanasi tomorrow.

Days in McLeod Ganj

lauramc — Sat, 22 Jul 2006 21:13:00 GMT

July 16, 2006

I spent 4 days here, and met several people. One day, I was sitting in a small Tibetan cafe, and many older Ladakhi women came in and sat down at my table and the table next to mine. None of them spoke any English, but as they stared at my mashed potatoes and egg-drop soup lunch, I felt obliged to explain. I motioned that mz stomach was sick and that I had diarreah. They seemed to understand those universal hand motions, smiling and nodding. Not sure how we communicated so well, but they told me they were from Leh (where I was headed) and that they were going back the next day. I asked if we could take a photo together, and they were excited about it....giving me their addresses and telling me to send 5 copies after they were developed. I said I would. Then one old lady made a motion of a house and pointed to me and to her and made a motion of drinking tea together. I thought she was inviting me to her home, but wasnt sure. I looked around for someone to translate, and one of the women in the group came over and spoke to me in English, explaining that the old lady wanted me to come to her home outsie of Leh. I said that I would come, as we would both be in Leh at the same time....but again in Leh I was sick, and never made it. This is the one regret I have from this trip...

Leaving the cafe, I stopped by my hotel and then walked along a ridge leading from there into the other side of town. The ridge narrowed into a small path which ended at a nunnery. I didnt realize it was a nunnery until 2 small girls dressed in maroon robes started giggling at me. I asked them if I could take their photo, and they gave me an enthusiastic yes! After I took their photos, they came over and started talking to me, showing me their Tibetan study books and telling me that they were heading to debate class, which was very difficult, they said. After looking at the Tibetan books they were holding, I agreed that it looked very difficult. They said they were from a village north of there, they were in McLeod Ganj studying Buddhism. They were like any other small girls of 10 years old. I thought of my students at this age, and what would they become if thez studied the same things as these girls...

I headed to Nicks Italian Kitchen for some raviolis, which I heard were good. Thez were fabulous, and I struck up a conversation with an Australian girl, also alone, sitting next to me. She had been living and studying Hindi in a small village in the mountains for the past year, and her time here was almost up. We were both leaving McCleod Ganj the next day, me in the morning, she in the afternoon.

The next day, I checked out of mz beautiful room overlooking the mountain, and headed to the bus stop early for my 830 a.m. bus. After wandering around, checking out several buses, I went down the hill where I learned that the bus to Manali would be. When I got there, a bus driver told me that the bus to Manali would leave at 830 PM, not AM, that I would have to wait 12 hours before leaving for Manali, and spend the night on the bus. What a nightmare!! Here I had gotten up early, already checked out of my room, and would have to lug my luggage around all day, waiting for the bus, which I would then have to ride through the night, not sleeping a wink, arriving tired to Manali the next morning. Well, I sighed to myself, This Is India. And I have only myself to blame, ay it says plain and clear on my bus ticket that it leaves in the evening...

I locked up my backpack and left it in the bus station, and went back to Nicks Cafe. After eating and reading for a few hours, I decided to leave, and then I saw the Australian girl again! After I explained to her what had happened, I asked her if she would like to come with me to the Bhagsu Waterfall, about a 1/2 hr. walk away. I didnt get to see it yet, so this was a good opportunity. We headed down the road, chatting about photographz and travel, asking our way to the waterfall. Eventually, we were climbing up a large mountain path with the river on our right-hand side. We could see a huge waterfall in the distance up ahead. A man came up our left-hand side, saying Good Morning, How are you? We just ignored him, as these kinds of advances from Indian men are very common, and we Western women have learned not to get into innane conversations with random strangers. After we ignored him, he went ahead and unzipped his pants, flashing his penis to us. The Aussie girl screamed at him in Hindi, trying to shame him. I that it was so nasty, that I couldnt believe he just did that. We ran up the hill, panting, trying to get away from him, but he followed and passed us as we sat in a small hill-side drink stand. When we glanced ahead, he was still there, so we didnt want to go on. A man came along with his wife, and we told him what had happened. He said that the man hadnt flashed THEM. Of course not, youre Indian, for one thing...and for another thing, youre a MAN! I said. He just blew us off and kept walking. But the boy in the drink stand had heard everything we said, and he went on to tell the man to stop harassing us, which he did. He came dashing past, pulling his ears....which apparently meant that he was sorry. I suggested we push him over the cliff!! =)

The waterfall was nice, we sat on a rock and watched as a little girl about 10 years old climbed like a boy, up and down the rocks, through the water, holding up her dress and not being shy about anything. I imagined her 10 years from now, needing to be protected by her husband, not taking such initiative in doing just as she pleases, just as boys do. There was a small cafe above the waterfall, so we enjoyed waterfall-cooled Limcas before heading back to town.

That night, I said goodbye to mz friend, and boarded the night bus to Manali. I was seated in the row right before the back seats with an Israeli girl with beautiful long, curly hair. We hit it off right away, laughing about my seat which would lean WAY back only with the weight of my body pressing on it. I turned and asked the Korean girl behind me if I was killing her with my seat leaning back so far, and when she didnt respond, I said, {She is already dead!) For some reason, we couldnt stop laughing. The Israeli girl joked that she needed an ultra-strong sports bra for this trip, (due to the huge bumps in the road and the twisting and winding) otherwise her boobs were going to be sagging to her knees by the time we arrived....and we laughed again. Stopping several times during the night for tea and to use the bathroom, we snacked on cookies and crackers we had bought in McCleod, commenting on how hungry we were.

In the middle of the night, everyone was asleep except me. The worst curse I was born with was the inability to sleep on planes, buses, trains, etc....I listened to music and hung my head out the window, awestruck, even in the dark, with the dark mountains surrounding the valley we were traveling through, the speed at which we were traveling, and the raging river far below the road we were on. The moon was visible, dimly lighting up the valley, and the air was cool. I gasped as I hung my head out the window...both from the beauty of the winding green and black mountains, and also from the river below and the speed at which we were traveling... while no one was watching.

Arriving to Manali, the Israeli girl and I took a rickshaw to Vashisht, a small town outside of Manali. It was 5 a.m., so I spent over an hour looking for a place to stay. One place was 70 rupees, (less than $2) a dingy place with a squat toilet and no shower. I took the risk of offending the man, and went to another place, the New Dharma Hotel, which was up on the top of the hill and overlooked a beautiful valley and mountains in the distance, the view of which changed from morning to evening and day to day. I checked in, put down my things, and crashed for about 5 hours, completely exhausted from the overnight trip...

(Not) Sleeping at 13,900 Feet

lauramc — Wed, 19 Jul 2006 22:12:00 GMT

I was groggy as I sat waiting at 6 a.m., together with a couple of Israeli guys who were also taking an 8-person Jeep from Vashisht to Leh, a trip that takes two full days. It is a trip that traverses the 2^nd highest motorable road in the world, crossing various extremely high passes of the Himalayan mountains. (The highest is also in this area of India.) About the time the Jeep showed up, a French guy appeared as well. The Jeep driver checked our tickets, put the French guy’s pack and my pack on top of the Jeep, and motioned for us to get in. As we drove down the hill, someone motioned to the driver, and without a word, he immediately turned around and went right back to where we'd been, picked up the two Israelis, and departed a second time. I had the best seat in the Jeep---which turned out to be a VERY good thing….nothing to hit my knees on, nobody crammed up next to me, no smelly armpits in my face for hours on end.....I was in a single seat with nothing in front of me, and nobody to the side. We proceeded to pick up a Scottish couple, who sat in the front seat next to the driver, and two more Israeli guys. It was a bit of a weird, motley crew…the French guy didn’t speak any English, and the Scottish man was a very anal-retentive investment banker on vacation for 3 weeks, putting complete trust in the driver at all times…even saying at one point, “if he didn’t know what he was doing, he wouldn't have gotten the job! He's a professional!” (As though driving a Jeep across the Himalayas is anything like getting a job at an investment bank! If you own a Jeep and are willing to drive the course, that makes you the driver.) And one of the Israeli guys was nice but a somewhat clueless guy who talked as if he knew everything, having done this trip before., annoying the French man and providing entertainment for the rest of us.

The scenery on this trip was like none I’ve seen before, and it changed dramatically at each stage. As we drove out of Manali, we were alongside a raging river, the snows having melted in early June, with huge mountains rising up both sides of the gorge. It was very green, and the valley was quite populated. At times, cows or goats would cross the road, and at one point the French guy pointed to the goats, looked at me, and said, “Pashmina.” It was one of two words he said in English the whole trip. The road (the entire trip) was 1 and a half lanes (or thereabouts), paved some of the time, some of the time not. It wound around the mountains like a corkscrew, around one side of the mountain, crossing a river, then winding its way up and around the next mountain, one after another. As I looked back at where we had been, the road looked like a snake’s path in the desert sand after it has passed through. Sheer drop-offs were the norm, me often staring directly down not just a big cliff, but an entire mountain, all the way to the bottom. At two points we saw vehicles which had met their destiny off the edges of cliffs. The road had no railing (this is India, after all) and we traversed hairpin turn after hairpin turn, the driver honking his horn at each one to warn oncoming traffic of the potential danger. He could have taken the turns a little slower, in my opinion, (but again, this is India). As we drove further and further up into the mountains, the scenery changed from greenery to desert moonscape-like scenery. I often sat with my head out the window, gaping at the beautiful scenery of the mountains. They were often bluish, but sometimes pink, with no clouds now and a crystal blue sky, snow-peaked mountains rising out of the lower ones from time to time. We went over Rohtan pass, which was 15,200 feet tall….and all of us experienced some form of headache from the altitude.

The first day, we crossed several small streams which ran across the road. Most of them were pretty small, and caused no real problems. One, however, was quite large. The driver took it quite hesitantly, and when he started getting stuck we all said that we should get out to make the Jeep lighter. Instead, the driver just kept spinning the wheels, riding the clutch and creating heaps of smoke out the back. Eventually, a few of us got out while he was still spinning the wheels in the rock and water, digging himself deeper and deeper in. The Scottish man said that the man knew what he was doing, in a threatening tone to the rest of us, who ignored him. The rest of the people eventually got out, the French man being the last….after it was very evident that every hand was needed to push (except mine, I was busy videotaping!) A long time passed, and nothing happened except the Jeep going deeper and deeper into the riverbed. Finally a busload of people showed up, and helped to push us out (it took about 15 people all pushing at the same time.) We cheered, then all piled in the Jeep and went on, but the Jeep was never quite the same…it began burning oil and having loud backfire on the uphill climbs in the high altitude.

We stopped at several small stations to drink tea, use the (lack of) facilities, (i.e. rocks behind buildings or semi-private areas behind the buildings due to the most unsanitary “toilets” I have ever seen), and register our passport information at various police stands. Registering meant that they wrote down our names and passport & visa numbers in a large book, never to look at the info again in this mess of Indian red-tape. As we encountered more and more of these stations, we noticed that in order to be in the Indian army, you must be: a) taller than average, and b) wear a moustache.

We headed to Darcha, which was where we would stay the night. As we neared our destination, at 13,900 feet high, there were various tent sites where we could pay a few dollars and be provided with dinner, breakfast, warm blankets, and a tent. The first place we stopped wanted to charge us 150 rupees pp per night, which is the equivalent of about $3. Our Israeli friend who had been on the trip before was the negotiator, telling us that there would be more tents up ahead that were cheaper. (You always want to get the cheapest deal in India, for some reason….) The French man stormed out of the Jeep, mumbling something in French with the word “Businessman…” in his sentence. Weirdy!! We decided to move on and choose another tent site where all of us could sleep in the same tent. (Except the French guy, who didn’t join us at all and disappeared to another tent as soon as we arrived.) We found one, a kind of Arab looking round tent where a lady had a kitchen set up, ready to sell us sodas and cookies and cook dinner. We sat down on the round bed-like structure lining the tent, commenting that it was hard as a rock. When we lifted up the thin layer of cloth on top of it, someone pointed and said, “It IS a rock!” The bed had been made of layers of shale-like rock, all stacked up. There was another round tent where we would sleep. This one was just for eating and hanging out. We played cards, listened to one of the Israeli guys play the guitar, talked about the Iraq war and what’s going on between Israel and Lebanon now, and waited impatiently for our food—rice with lentils and cooked veggies with curry flavor, very tasty! At around 9 p.m., we all went outside, to go over to our tent and set up for the night. And when I stepped out of the 1^st tent, I could not believe my eyes. There were more stars in the clear sky than I have ever seen. In fact, there were so many that I could hardly even find the constellations I know….there were just so many! The entire Milky Way was visible—a huge tube of white light which stretched across the sky, containing more and more stars. After standing with a couple of other people and admiring the stars for a few minutes, I saw a few shooting stars as well. After admiring the stars for almost an hour, we decided to crash out. (The air was so thin up there that some Jeep trips even provide oxygen. Unfortunately, ours was not one of those.) I was really cold after standing outside for a while, and it took me a long time to get warm. But I really couldn’t breathe well, and so I didn’t get a wink of sleep at all. At one point I looked at my watch at 2 a.m. and drank some of someone else’s water, completely thirsty. At around 2:30, one of the Israeli guys, Ori, got up to go to the bathroom. I was so thrilled that someone else was awake that I flashed my flashlight at him and asked what he was doing, telling him that I couldn’t sleep. He told me to come outside when he got back. I dragged a bunch of blankets across people in the tent, and went outside to watch the stars, which had changed significantly from earlier, and now there was a moon. The Scottish woman soon joined us, and the 3 of us huddled and told stories for about an hour. Then I said, “hey, let’s build a fire…do you think there’s any wood we could find?” Ori set out to find some, and I went to get matches. He found a few boards scattered around, but since we were well above tree-line, we couldn’t find much to burn. We found a cardboard box and used some toilet paper to get it lit, and we had a beautiful fire! We warmed our toes and brought in the morning daylight, outside wrapped in heavy blankets by the fire. What could have been a completely miserable existence lying alone in the tent not being able to sleep turned into a great experience. The next day, however…I suffered from lack of sleep.

In the morning, we ate a chapati (nan-type bread) with potato and spice inside for breakfast, played some more cards, and listened again to some guitar playing. Then the Scottish guy, all tense, showed up and said, “So…?” I could read him and said, “Yeah, we’re coming.” And he says, “In 5 minutes or so??” “Yes,” thinking that he really should have spent his vacation time in Japan rather than India. We gathered our things, and off we drove. Everyone was tired, very few people had slept well in the altitude. By mid-day we all just wanted to arrive in Leh already. But the Jeep was having problems. (Not with the brakes, or I would have found a truck to finish off the trip on.) It was leaking and burning oil, and having similar problems from the day before, and the altitude, being higher the 2^nd day than the 1^st, wasn’t helping at all. We approached the huge pass at the pace of a snail, as the pass was 16,800 feet high!! We all cheered when we got to the top without a problem. From there to Leh it was all downhill, (no pun intended) and the Jeep was fine. However, the road was at its worst, with huge rocks and potholes, the driver going too fast for the people in the back, as they bounced up and hit their heads on the ceiling more times than they could count, moaning the whole way in pain.

As we neared Leh, in northern Ladakh, I was laughing so hard, because we were on a two-lane paved road, and our driver took this as a sign to drive like a complete lunatic around curves and through the last part of the mountains. One of the Israeli guys said, “he’s involved in some sort of race that nobody knows about.” I said that I was going to enter him in next year’s Indy 500. Another guy said that he was racing the river next to us. I was laughing just because we had crossed these treacherous roads and over these monstrous mountains, the Jeep getting stuck and breaking down, etc….and wouldn’t it just be too ironic to die on this last stretch of road, right before our destination? Well, probably not. Nothing here makes good sense. After all, this IS India.

The Plight of Tibet, and My Time in Dharamsala

lauramc — Fri, 14 Jul 2006 12:00:00 GMT

July 14, 2006

Upon arriving in Dharamsala, I was struck by the number of Tibetan monks, cloaked in their maroon-colored robes. Given that Dharamsala is the home of the Tibetan Dalai Lama in exile, as well as its government, it is understandable. The Chinese invaded Tibet in the 1940's, killing off over 1.2 million Tibetans and destroying more than 80% of the Buddhist monasteries in Tibet. Many monks were put in prison and tortured, and Buddhist scriptures, paintings, statues, and monuments were all destroyed. The Chinese called this the "Cultural Revolution," and have since forced the Tibetan people to learn Chinese, denounce their Buddhist heritage and the Dalai Lama, and forced them to work in camps and live in very poor conditions. The Chinese government has encouraged Chinese people to settle in Tibet, and so the Tibetan people have become a minority in their own land. The Chinese have deforested the land of Tibet and used it also for nuclear waste dumps. The Tibetan culture has suffered a great deal, only truly surviving in exile communities like this one and some in Sikkim, India and others in Nepal. Even here, the Tibetans face rejection from the Indian community and government, although they have been allowed to set up education centers, libraries, and museums here for the purpose of maintaining the Tibetan culture and carrying on aspects of their civilization. Some Tibetans were born here, but many monks and other Tibetans came here by walking across the dangerous Himalayan mountain passes to safety from the Chinese invaders. The Dalai Lama came here in this way, and was able to bring with him an entourage of people which were able to rescue some of the valuable Buddhist treasures of the Tibetan civilization.

Today I walked down the mountain to hear a Buddhist teaching by a Tibetan monk at the library. He talked of the impermanence of all worldly things, and of attachments, and how we should not cling to anything or anyone. He spoke in Tibetan, and the meaning was translated by another man into English. I felt very honored to be hearing these teachings in the Tibetan language, spoken by a monk who had most likely crossed the Himalayan mountains walking, to reach this place.

Here there are many shops selling Tibetan handicrafts and goods, and there is a refugee center as well. Traditional Tibetan medicine and massage techniques are taught, meditation centers hold long-term courses, and visitors can eat different types of Tibetan food, much milder than the Indian curries! Soups with flat noodles and lots of veggies, egg, and tofu, and momos, a very similar dish to the Japanese gyoza dumplings.

I moved yesterday to a lovely place (twice the cost of the previous place, $12 per night) perched on a hill, and from my window I have a beautiful view of the mountains and down into the valley, and birds sing in the trees outside. It's very peaceful, there is very little noise, and I'm able to relax and read for a couple of days. I've had a "dodgy" stomach since yesterday, but am feeling somewhat better today. We'll see what happens after I eat something. =)

Yesterday a group of foreigners were gathering to talk about what the Indian government is doing to the dogs in Dharamsala. They decided to kill all of the dogs in town by giving them poisonous pills with food. Yesterday as I walked to my new hotel, I saw 3 dogs dead in the street and one with his legs stiff and straightened in the air, many people gathering around to comfort him as he died. The pills give the dogs a very painful death, taking almost an hour for them to die, attacking their nervous system. It is such a cruel and inhumane way for the dogs to be put down, but they do it in this way because it is the cheapest way to eliminate the large dog packs and strays in the area. The group gathered this morning to express concern for the humane treatment of the dogs and to suggest alternative ways of putting them down, contributing funds and involving an animal humane society for support. I don't know if our efforts will be fruitful, as the values here are much different, and saving money is of first and utmost importance here.

Road trip to Dharamsala

lauramc — Tue, 11 Jul 2006 21:37:00 GMT

July 11, 2006

Raul, Victor and I found a driver to take us to Dharamsala for 200 rupees apiece, which is US $5. Considering the trip took about 9 hours, we thought this was a damn good deal. The three of us sat in the backseat of the Jeep, holding on tightly to the seat in front of us or the windowframes, to avoid flopping all over the Jeep as it wound up the mountain roads thoguh hairpin curves, blowing the horn at each one to let oncoming (HUGE) trucks know that WE were coming. I was very calm, I never seem to get nervous with this type of thing, though it would have made my mother get out and walk. Many steep drop-offs and tight squeezes on the mountain roads would make even a normal person a little nervous. My amygdyla certain is messed up! We eventually got to a lower place, and the road was much smoother. We stopped along the way several times, eating mangos and bread and chatting with the driver. As we neared Dharamsala, the home of the Dalai Lama in exile, a torrential monsoon downpour slowed us down immensely. Huge rivers of water crossed the road, often bringing down many rocks and some boulders. Our driver skillfully drove through the water and managed to avoid hitting any boulders that were lying in the road. Whew!! Before arriving to McLeod Ganj, a town just north of Dharamsala, we waited in the car for the rain to stop, for nearly an hour. Finally it stopped, and we walked to find a good guesthouse....

We found the Green Hotel, with a maze of concrete levels leading to rooms going down the hill. Three are lots of flies in my room, and a musty smell from the notorious rains of this place. But it's a room with private bath and hot shower, and it is costing me $6 per night....so no complaints! The view from the top of the place is stellar, with Tibetan prayer flags fluttering in the wind on the mountain in the distance, buildings stagged up over the hills. Cows roam free in the narrow streets, and Tibetan monks wearing maroon-colored robes are everywhere. Many small shops sell Tibetan handicrafts and jewellery, and the Save Tibet campaign stickers and t-shirts are everywhere. After settling in, we ate tibetan noodle soup with veggies and egg, it was really mild and tasty after all of the curry I've been eating. I also had some spinach cheese momos, which are like Japanese gyoza dumplings, Tibetan style. Very tasty! I had a few left-over, so I decided to feed them to the bull outside in the street. He lapped them up with his huge tongue, me dropping a couple on the ground because I was afraid he'd bite me. When they were all done, I said, "All done!" but he didn't care...he followed me, his horns threatening up against my side....so I ran into one small shop saying "Vamos! Vamos!" to my friends....and through the shop to the other side. They didn't come, and the bull followed them down the street, wanting more momos!

Monkeys in Shimla

lauramc — Mon, 10 Jul 2006 22:30:00 GMT

July 10, 2006

Today Jemma and I walked to the Jammu Temple (otherwise known as Monkey Temple) on the hill, a steep climb from the small town of Shimla. Along the way we saw puppies and monkeys....2 monkeys were sitting in a tree, one behind the other. The one behind was searching through the other's fur with his hands, finding little bugs, and then eating them. The one in the front looked as though he was getting a massage! When we reached the top, at the entrance to the temple, there were dozens of monkeys everywhere, big and small. One of them grabbed a lady's glasses right off of her face! She had to offer the monkey food to get him to drop the glasses! Then another monkey had found a water faucet, and he knew how to turn on the water and get himself a drink. After having a drink, he'd turn off the faucet, jump up to see if anyone was going to shoo him away, and when nobody did, he went back down to turn on the water and have another drink. He kept doing this, as I videotaped it!

Some of the monkeys were fighting pretty ferociously on the way up to the temple, so we never did make it all the way up. One woman on the way down said that she let two monkeys jump on her back, perch on her shoulders! I wouldn't have done that....all I need is to get a monkey scratch or bite and have to travel all the way back to Delhi on a butt-busting train for another 12 hours to get rabies shots! I thought she was nuts.

Tomorrow I leave in the morning in a Jeep with the two Spanish guys, who caught up with me here. We'll head to Dharamsala, home of the Dalai Lama in exile.

True Poverty (on the trip to Shimla)

lauramc — Mon, 10 Jul 2006 15:45:00 GMT

July 10, 2006

Yesterday I took a two trains from Delhi to Shimla, which is due north of Delhi about 150 miles. The trip took 12 hours...after about 3, my butt-bone was in so much pain that I realized I had a pillow in my bag. After putting that under me, the trip became much more comfortable. On both trains, I had a window seats. I watched out the window as we pulled slowly out of Delhi, stopping at a few stations. I was truly humbled and shocked by the things I saw out the window. And I have seen poverty before: in Nepal, Vietnam, the Dominican Republic, etc.... The people in those countries are poor too, most living in huts with dirt floors and no running water. But the children always were smiling and happy. But this was different, extremely different. People did not seem to be smiling much. What we would consider "poverty" in the U.S. is something much nicer than this, even in ghettos there is running water and a roof over one's head. This was more akin to thousands of people living like the homeless on the streets of Chicago, but in huge communities along the train tracks. There were no huts, only ramshakle shelters made from plastic covers and wooden planks for walls, each small created room directly next to the next one to save the need for a separate wall. In front of the huge conglomeration of these make-shift homes, there were heaps and heaps of garbage. And all along the way, I saw people relieving themselves atop of this mound of garbage. People were laying on the floors of the train stations, thin as could be. Women used a public watering place at the train station to gather water and wash their clothing...it seemed like the only source of water around. Pigs and dogs roamed through the garbage dumps along with the people relieving themselves. The stench was unbelievable. The water these people are drinking must contain so many diseases, the lack of proper dumps and sewer systems creating the lack of clean water here.

As I watched all of this from my window, I chatted with two people on the train: a woman whose son is living in the U.S., and who had been there 4 times, and a man who wished to borrow my novel to see what it was like, and chatting with me about his job as an engineer, his salary of $666 per month + free accomodations. He told me about how he "had married" two of his children (arranged marriages for them), telling me that most people in India do not choose their own marriage partner but their parents arrange it for them. I knew this, but it was interesting to hear him tell me about it. His other son wanted to marry a particular woman whom he'd known for 9 years. This man opposed the marriage at first, but then finally agreed after his son said he would do it anyhow. He is happy for them now, but said, "She was not from our community, so I opposed the marriage." The woman was an well-educated engineer, making quite a large salary per month. He asked me if I was married, or traveling alone. I said yes to both, of course. He said that in India, it is a male-dominated society, and they believe that women need to be protected. "Don't you agree?," he asked. He was asking the wrong person! I said mildly, "Well, I've traveled around to loads of different countries on my own, and I did just fine. So I guess I would have to disagree with you." His response was that a woman needs her partner for good and bad days, and for when she is old. I agreed with that. I told him that for us, we must find our own partners, and this makes it more difficult.

Both of these fairly well-educated people threw all of their garbage out the window of the train. It all made sense after I saw that. The woman must have thrown 10 pieces of non-biodegradable trash out the window as we traveled. No one seemed to have a sense of personal responsibility for protecting or taking care of the environment. Well, with so much trash everywhere, I suppose they figure a few more pieces won't hurt anything. I suppose until the government of India makes it a priority to clean up the country and educate people about environmental issues, the problem will only get worse.

The trai n was very lively and fun. Lots of people kept getting on, cramming onto seats that weren't theirs, everyone sliding over as much as they could so that more people could sit down, even if they hadn't bought a seat. People take care of each other, there seems to be a real sense of community among Indian people. Young men, going somewhere for the weekend, crowded onto the train and stood together, often holding hands or putting arms around each other (simply friendly gestures). People laughed and talked with others they just met, and everyone got along quite well, accomodating each other. The woman, who told me she didn't like it in the U.S., said, "See, isn't it a great crowd?" And it was. Definitely a sense of community here, and I could see how difficult it would be for her to live in the U.S., where strangers don't talk to each other on trains.

The second train was packed mainly with rich Indians heading north for a holiday, and backpackers heading to the mountains. I met an English girl named Genna, who I shared a seat and stories with. The scenery along the way was absolutely beautiful, and as went north into the Himalayan mountains, the air become cooler and more refreshing. We wound around mountains on a tiny old train, seeing little towns nestled in the mountains in the distance. There were many drop-offs that would have made my mother sick, and since I was in a window seat, I could see all the way down at times. We arrived in Shimla at 6 p.m., and made our way to the YMCA, where we decided to share a room. They gave us a room with the best view I've ever had from a room. They told us to keep the windows closed to avoid the monkeys coming in, but we opened them anyhow to feel the fresh air and see the view of the mountains at night....how beautiful! The sky over the mountain turned pink, and a neon-white cloud floated between one mountain and another, with lights shining all up and down the hill from the buildings on the other side. We went and had a curry, and crashed out early.

My Days in Delhi

lauramc — Sat, 8 Jul 2006 22:46:00 GMT

July 8, 2006 Today I saw a lot of things....I saw boys making Indian nan bread in large round ovens, sweating over them in the street, forking out round breads as quickly as I type a sentence. Cows munch hay next to people selling small items in the street. Boys ride ponies on main streets along with 3-wheeled taxi tuk-tuks and rickshaw bicyclists. A woman rode on the back of a motorbike taxi, sari flapping in the wind, holding onto a tiny baby in her lap. And a man, his legs the size of my arms, walked on the flat part between knee and foot, shuffling around in the dirt. And we think WE have problems. My heart just went out to him. Today the Spanish guys and I went sightseeing to several places, including the Red Fort, 2 mosques, and a temple. The most interesting place was a Hindu Temple called Akshar Dham Temple. One entire building was made of intricately carved marble in detailed designs, symbolizing Hindu deities and other gods. They honor the gods in the temple so much that they even thought to put fans on them!! The whole temple was made of marble, and the floor was large white squares of smooth marble, too. And the mangos are sooooo sweet and beautiful. I bought 2 kilos for $1....the ultimate fruit (well, right after raspberries)....so juicy and fresh and deep, deep orange color. I eat about 5 a day. Last night I ate tandoori chicken, butter chicken curry, and nan bread....excellent except I think I ate more of my own sweat than I did curry. By the end of the day, I was completely exhausted....the gallon of water and other drinks just didn't curb my fatigue. The Spanish guys came a ways toward developing their bargaining skills-- in the morning they didn't want to bargain for money pouches, saying they felt "bad" about bargaining because to them it's "such little amount of money," and by the end of the day, they were trying to get 10 rupees (25 cents) less for a rickshaw than I was!! I guess my passion for bargaining rubbed off on them a little. =) It's such a good thing. I'm sure after 2 months of bargaining for everything in India, I'll be sick of it and want a fixed price. But for now, I'm lovin' it. Plus, when you barain for things, both parties get a fair price. There is no attitude of "I'm above you and therefore feel pity and shame about the situation, so I'll pay whatever high price you squeeze out of me." When we do this, Indian people will think we are stupid tourists, and they will keep raising the prices well above what a person from India would pay for the same thing. I love it because if it's done well, it puts us all in the same boat--we smile while bargaining, and it creates a little respect between the bargainer and the seller. Nobody screws anybody out of money (or gets screwed out of money), and therefore it makes us all the same in our humanity. I definitely believe in it. Tomorrow (July 9), I leave on a train for Shimla, in the north. It's supposed to be cooler, and a beautiful trip, as I'll be heading into the Himalayas. I'll post again in a few days.

Gallery: Spain

lauramc — Sat, 8 Jul 2006 21:32:00 GMT

During the last days....

The HEAT in Delhi

lauramc — Fri, 7 Jul 2006 22:27:00 GMT

July 7, 2006 I just checked the temperature online, and it's 97 degrees at 11:15 p.m.!! I don't know how to explain it, but the heat is simply OPPRESSIVE. Unless I'm in the shower, I'm constantly sweating. As soon as the shower finishes, my face is covered in sweat, so much that I have to wipe it off before putting sunscreen on, which melts off in 2 minutes. I'm wearing long Thai pants, and a long-sleeved very light-weight Indian shirt I bought for $2. (I don't really need to cover my arms, the Indian women don't!) And underneath my clothing, all I can feel is sweat running from the top of my body to the bottom, drenching my clothing and making me all sticky. And I thought Japan was hot!! Today I have drunk 4 liters of water (that's well over a gallon), a diet Coke, a lemon soda, and a mixed fruit juice...and I have peed only once between 11 a.m. and 11 p.m.!! Unbelievable. I had to put all of the things in my moneybelt (which I wear around my waist under my clothing) in a ziplock bag, because my passport, money, and traveler's checks were soaking wet! Imagine this amount of heat (well over 100 degrees today + god-awful humidity) mixed with the stirred up dirt and garbage in the streets, the cows roaming around seemingly belonging to no one-- their droppings in the streets, touts who won't leave me alone-- all trying to get me to go somewhere, buy something, or look at something, the mixed smells of incense, cooking rice, spices and people. Mix this with blaring horns of motorbikes trying to get past, bells of bicycle rickshaws, boys playing small drums they are trying to sell, beggars asking for money or food, and you've got serious commotion, heat, stimulation, and a taxing arrangement of activities going on all around. Tomorrow won't be as hot, as the rains are supposed to begin....