6.14.08
My last day in Delhi. My last day in India...for now. ;) I board that much welcomed plane in 7 hours; then it's a hop, skip, and jump over the North Pole, a stop in Chi-town, a couple more classes in the Cities, and I'm home! To kill some time beforehand, though, here's a recap of the past few days:
In my last post, I was so flustered, I completely forgot to write about our last day in Kausani. I opted out of doing chores at the ashram in the morning (I've shoveled enough crap in my life, I didn't feel like doing it for "fun"). We trekked up the hill before lunch, though, just in time for spinning--not the aerobics class, but the twisting of fibers into yarn. We used a very simple hand spool, nothing like the elaborate wheel and treadle that Aunt Sue so patiently tried to teach me to use several years ago. (If there is anything you can learn from spinning, it is patience.) Nonetheless, it was great fun, sitting on the floor with all these young girls, spinning away! I didn't want to stop. But, alas, the lunch bell rang. After lunch, the scraps were put in a bucket for the cows to finish off. This made me laugh because our piggies do the same thing with the leftovers from the Children's Home. Instant recycling.
Yesterday, the day after everyone else ventured to the Taj Mahal, I felt much more myself after a good day's rest. We had one final class at the Gandhi Peace Foundation where we discussed women in Indian society. It has been a strange experience walking down the street and realizing, "I am the only female on this entire block." I haven't necessarily felt unsafe, but a lot of us were wondering where all the women are. (Keep in mind I go to Feminazi University. It rubs off after a while.) We talked a lot about cultural relativism versus imposing our western ideas of feminism. Apparently, more and more Indian women are working outside of the home, but I'm still confused about how they get to and fro. Clearly, they aren't walking. Ironically, however, women in India have had the right to vote for far longer than those of us in the US. Go figure.
In the afternoon, I paid a visit to the Crafts Museum. It was very super cool, especially the extensive exhibit of saris spread up and down the walls. The fabric was absolutely gorgeous. Every color imaginable. There was also some incredible jewelry and the most finely carved ivory--so beautiful, but so not kosher... In the back garden, there were several tribes represented from across the country, each with their own specialty handicrafts. Finding a sweet pair of funky sandals, I can now leave India satisfied. (I decided I'll just have to have a museum of shoes some day to make up for my addiction.)
We had our "final banquet" at a fine Indian restaurant. Not only was it "13 June," my cousin Jack's birthday, and Friday the 13th, it was also the birthday of one of the women in our class. The restaurant made a gorgeous cake, and though it didn't taste nearly as good as it looked, the whole surprise was great fun. Upon returning to the hotel, I wasn't feelin' so hot, so I turned in early like the old lady I am. So much for my last night in Delhi...
I awoke this morning still feeling a bit under the weather, but the prospect of coming home has carried me through the day. I came across a place that did henna, and figuring I couldn't leave India without some ornate ink, I now feel like the woman with the tattooed hands in that Atmosphere song. :) My roommate and I caught an Indian film in the heat of the morning, something called Sarkar Raj. I can't tell you much about it because, except for a few lines like, "Dad, I can't deal with him. His attitude is negative," the whole thing was in Hindi. The music was ridiculous--uber loud and over dramatic, and the camera angles were constantly changing, making for a dizzying experience. Afterwards, I used up most of my rupees doing a little last minute "shoppy-shoppy," as my father would say. Now I just hope it all fits in my suitcase...
Well, it's about that time. I have a few more hours before we part for the old air-o-port, and I should probably start to think about packing. Can't wait to see you all in person and get those greatly missed hugs! I think that's one of the things I've missed most. In France, everyone kisses; at home, everyone hugs; here, people just stare and smile. Regardless, it won't be long now! As always, peace and love. ~kag
6.14.2008
6.12.2008
New Delhi (9)
Right now, the rest of my class is visiting one of the wonders of our world, the majestic Taj Mahal. And what am I doing? Sitting in a hot, sticky, Internet cafe in Delhi because--you guessed it--I am sick again. I'm not looking for sympathy, mind you; I just need to vent. So, please excuse my overly emotional state.
We got back to Delhi yesterday evening and checked back into the Park hotel. I had an annoying "smoker's throat," again, and was rather exhausted from the two days of bumpy bus riding (funny how sitting in a bus, doing nothing, wears one out...), but figured it wasn't anything a good night's sleep couldn't cure. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, and when our 4:40 am wake-up call came, I knew there was no way I'd be able to endure the 2-hour train ride and the long day of being in the hot, Indian sun. Mad at my luck, I informed my professor I was ill and went back to sleep until the STD phone place opened at 9. I first called Uncle David for some medical advice, then mum and dad for some sympathy. Afterwards, I needed to find a pharmacy to pick up some Imodium. I asked the desk at the hotel, and they gave me vague instructions. While trying to make my way there, a high-school-aged boy started talking to me, claiming he wanted to practice his English, even though I told him I was from France. He ended up taking me to the pharmacy, and I was incredibly grateful, as I would have never found it on my own.
When I got back to the hotel, I payed an exuberant amount of money to use their computers and chat online with the fam. At this point, I didn't really give a rat's tail. I was sitting in the "Business Centre" with tears gently rolling down my cheeks, and all I wanted was a big hug, a back rub, and some food that I knew wouldn't make me sick. And that's the most frustrating part of this whole ordeal--I thought I had been uber cautious about what I was eating and drinking. Uncle David tried to console me by saying the only sure-fire-way to avoid getting sick since I'm not from here is to live in one of those plastic bubbles. The idea is tempting...
After another attempt at rest, I got a phone call from one of my professors "checking in." Apparently it is very hot in Agra and they won't be getting back to Delhi until 11:30-ish tonight. I guess I made the right decision, after all. I would have been miserable otherwise. In the meantime, I will have to be content with reading about the "beautiful monument of love which was built by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in 1648 AD on the banks of river Yamuna" in one of the many handouts they made us bring. I'm sure it looks exactly like all of the pictures, anyway. And, though I'm not planning on returning to India any time soon, this will give me an excuse to come back some day...maybe.
My experience in India has been...incredible. If nothing, I have come to greatly appreciate good health and clean air. Sicknesses and all, I am glad I came, but I think I will be even gladder to get back home. I can't wait to eat a spinach salad from the garden with some strawberries, avocado, and lightly toasted pecans...mmmm. And a nice, bloody hamburger. (And that coming from a vegetarian!)
Finally, I must have a shout out to those who have been emailing me and commenting on my writings. I dearly miss you, and your support is what keeps me going. I know, I know, that sounds sappy and overly sentimental, but it is true. I love you.
We got back to Delhi yesterday evening and checked back into the Park hotel. I had an annoying "smoker's throat," again, and was rather exhausted from the two days of bumpy bus riding (funny how sitting in a bus, doing nothing, wears one out...), but figured it wasn't anything a good night's sleep couldn't cure. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, and when our 4:40 am wake-up call came, I knew there was no way I'd be able to endure the 2-hour train ride and the long day of being in the hot, Indian sun. Mad at my luck, I informed my professor I was ill and went back to sleep until the STD phone place opened at 9. I first called Uncle David for some medical advice, then mum and dad for some sympathy. Afterwards, I needed to find a pharmacy to pick up some Imodium. I asked the desk at the hotel, and they gave me vague instructions. While trying to make my way there, a high-school-aged boy started talking to me, claiming he wanted to practice his English, even though I told him I was from France. He ended up taking me to the pharmacy, and I was incredibly grateful, as I would have never found it on my own.
When I got back to the hotel, I payed an exuberant amount of money to use their computers and chat online with the fam. At this point, I didn't really give a rat's tail. I was sitting in the "Business Centre" with tears gently rolling down my cheeks, and all I wanted was a big hug, a back rub, and some food that I knew wouldn't make me sick. And that's the most frustrating part of this whole ordeal--I thought I had been uber cautious about what I was eating and drinking. Uncle David tried to console me by saying the only sure-fire-way to avoid getting sick since I'm not from here is to live in one of those plastic bubbles. The idea is tempting...
After another attempt at rest, I got a phone call from one of my professors "checking in." Apparently it is very hot in Agra and they won't be getting back to Delhi until 11:30-ish tonight. I guess I made the right decision, after all. I would have been miserable otherwise. In the meantime, I will have to be content with reading about the "beautiful monument of love which was built by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in 1648 AD on the banks of river Yamuna" in one of the many handouts they made us bring. I'm sure it looks exactly like all of the pictures, anyway. And, though I'm not planning on returning to India any time soon, this will give me an excuse to come back some day...maybe.
My experience in India has been...incredible. If nothing, I have come to greatly appreciate good health and clean air. Sicknesses and all, I am glad I came, but I think I will be even gladder to get back home. I can't wait to eat a spinach salad from the garden with some strawberries, avocado, and lightly toasted pecans...mmmm. And a nice, bloody hamburger. (And that coming from a vegetarian!)
Finally, I must have a shout out to those who have been emailing me and commenting on my writings. I dearly miss you, and your support is what keeps me going. I know, I know, that sounds sappy and overly sentimental, but it is true. I love you.
6.08.2008
Kausani (8)
6.9.08
This morning, while enjoying my breakfast of toast and jam in the garden, a monkey poked his head through the blind. Giving me a look as to say, "Don't you dare say anything," he hopped on the table next to mine and grabbed a couple butter packets which he dropped. Then he went for the sugar, picking up the spoon in his little hand and shoveling it into his mouth! After a few spoon-fulls, he nixed the spoon and just stuck his head in the bowl. Finally, the waiters returned and shooed the poor thing away. It was quite comical!
Yesterday, we awoke to a light mist that lifted before our 10-K hike to yet another Hindu temple. "English David," as we call him, from Lakshmi Ashram led the hike, clad in his homespun and worn out flip-flops. On our hike, we saw a lot of tea growing on the terraced hills. We also passed several flooded fields with women bent over, ankle-deep, planting rice. It looked like laborious work, but I suppose they don't know anything else. Seeing all this farming has made me excited to get back home and work in the garden and vineyard. I know...nerdy...but for some reason I like it.
Though most of the hike was downhill, the heat and hunger started wearing people down, and by the time we arrived several hours later, the overall morale had gone south in a hurry. (I feel like I'm writing about the Oregon Trail...). To be honest, I would never want to lead a group of 20 women to India. It is so hard to find a balance between keeping busy and over-working us. At this point, almost everyone is sick of traveling and getting antsy to go home. While I am greatly looking forward to going home, I am trying my best to live day-by-day and savor these last few days. It seems like ages ago that we left!
Fortunately, the bus came to take us back up the mountain. During the hour ride 'round the wicked hair-pin turns, we started singing off-key snippets of old 70's and 80's songs, rather loudly. A little Afternoon Delight, some Tom Petty, and a little Iko Iko seemed to cheer everyone up. When we got back to the hotel, I took a much welcomed cold shower, but I had to do it camping-style with a bucket to avoid flooding the bathroom. ;)
For dinner, I had some delicious macaroni and cheese with a stuffed tomato. I have noticed that the food is very literal in India. If you are craving something, you probably shouldn't order it because it will be nothing like what you were expecting. For example, the macaroni and cheese was exactly that--macaroni noodles with cheese sprinkled on top. And my stuffed tomato was one of the wackiest things I've had thus far: a tomato stuffed with paneer cheese in a sort of gravy that was both sweet and cinnamon-y. It wasn't bad, but I wouldn't in my wildest hallucinations have thought of combining those flavors!
One of my favorite things in India is how friendly everyone is. I'll be walking down the street, and everyone will smile and say, "Namaste!" or "Hello!" Quite frequently, I'll be stopped and asked where I am from, what my name is, how long I've been in India, whether I like it, etc. This morning, a little boy, no more than 4 years old, came up to me, shook my hand, and said, "I love you!" before running away. And yesterday, a woman told me I had to visit the state where Gandhi was born (it starts with a -r, but I don't remember...). I told her not this trip, but perhaps some day, and she said, "Yes, come back when you are married with husband for honeymoon." That made me laugh. Someday, maybe!
Uncle David, in response to your comment, I doubt anyone here knows about Crazy Horse...but I did have a funny revelation the other day when we were sitting "Indian-style" eating lunch at the ashram. I always thought that referred to Native American Indians, but I guess the Indian-Indians also sit like that. Go figure. They have more in common than sill Columbus gave them credit for!
Well, this may be the last "post" I write for another couple days, as we are starting the 2-day journey by bus back to Delhi tomorrow. Hugs and kisses from the "Switzerland of India!"
This morning, while enjoying my breakfast of toast and jam in the garden, a monkey poked his head through the blind. Giving me a look as to say, "Don't you dare say anything," he hopped on the table next to mine and grabbed a couple butter packets which he dropped. Then he went for the sugar, picking up the spoon in his little hand and shoveling it into his mouth! After a few spoon-fulls, he nixed the spoon and just stuck his head in the bowl. Finally, the waiters returned and shooed the poor thing away. It was quite comical!
Yesterday, we awoke to a light mist that lifted before our 10-K hike to yet another Hindu temple. "English David," as we call him, from Lakshmi Ashram led the hike, clad in his homespun and worn out flip-flops. On our hike, we saw a lot of tea growing on the terraced hills. We also passed several flooded fields with women bent over, ankle-deep, planting rice. It looked like laborious work, but I suppose they don't know anything else. Seeing all this farming has made me excited to get back home and work in the garden and vineyard. I know...nerdy...but for some reason I like it.
Though most of the hike was downhill, the heat and hunger started wearing people down, and by the time we arrived several hours later, the overall morale had gone south in a hurry. (I feel like I'm writing about the Oregon Trail...). To be honest, I would never want to lead a group of 20 women to India. It is so hard to find a balance between keeping busy and over-working us. At this point, almost everyone is sick of traveling and getting antsy to go home. While I am greatly looking forward to going home, I am trying my best to live day-by-day and savor these last few days. It seems like ages ago that we left!
Fortunately, the bus came to take us back up the mountain. During the hour ride 'round the wicked hair-pin turns, we started singing off-key snippets of old 70's and 80's songs, rather loudly. A little Afternoon Delight, some Tom Petty, and a little Iko Iko seemed to cheer everyone up. When we got back to the hotel, I took a much welcomed cold shower, but I had to do it camping-style with a bucket to avoid flooding the bathroom. ;)
For dinner, I had some delicious macaroni and cheese with a stuffed tomato. I have noticed that the food is very literal in India. If you are craving something, you probably shouldn't order it because it will be nothing like what you were expecting. For example, the macaroni and cheese was exactly that--macaroni noodles with cheese sprinkled on top. And my stuffed tomato was one of the wackiest things I've had thus far: a tomato stuffed with paneer cheese in a sort of gravy that was both sweet and cinnamon-y. It wasn't bad, but I wouldn't in my wildest hallucinations have thought of combining those flavors!
One of my favorite things in India is how friendly everyone is. I'll be walking down the street, and everyone will smile and say, "Namaste!" or "Hello!" Quite frequently, I'll be stopped and asked where I am from, what my name is, how long I've been in India, whether I like it, etc. This morning, a little boy, no more than 4 years old, came up to me, shook my hand, and said, "I love you!" before running away. And yesterday, a woman told me I had to visit the state where Gandhi was born (it starts with a -r, but I don't remember...). I told her not this trip, but perhaps some day, and she said, "Yes, come back when you are married with husband for honeymoon." That made me laugh. Someday, maybe!
Uncle David, in response to your comment, I doubt anyone here knows about Crazy Horse...but I did have a funny revelation the other day when we were sitting "Indian-style" eating lunch at the ashram. I always thought that referred to Native American Indians, but I guess the Indian-Indians also sit like that. Go figure. They have more in common than sill Columbus gave them credit for!
Well, this may be the last "post" I write for another couple days, as we are starting the 2-day journey by bus back to Delhi tomorrow. Hugs and kisses from the "Switzerland of India!"
6.06.2008
Kausani (7)
6.7.08
I tried publishing this post earlier this morning, but there was a power outage and I lost what I had begun. As I type this now, though, I have the most incredible view of the snow-caped Himalayan mountains out the window. The clouds just lifted enough to see them off in the distance, and it is incredible! I am in Kausani, a very small village in the mountains where we are visiting Lakshmi Ashram, a Gandhian school for girls. But first I will fill you in on what has happened since last I wrote...
We left Dharmasala on Wednesday morning, taking a 3-hour taxi ride to the train station in Chakki Bank. The train ride was much more pleasant than I had anticipated. In fact, I have ridden in far worse trains in Europe. Then again, we did have 2nd class sleeper cars, so I lounged out for the 8-hour journey with my suitcase as a pillow. While on the train, I became friends with an 8-and-a-half year old Indian girl named Smriti. She was ridiculously smart, not to mention cute. She shared her roti and bhindi (a flat bread and okra) with us, and I shared my i-pod with her as she was much intrigued by American music. It was a fun exchange of cultures. And to think I learned so much from an eight-and-a-half year old! For instance, she told me that the grass huts that are so common on the farms are, in fact, homes, but only for one person.
Upon arriving to Delhi and navigating through the chaotic masses of humanity at the train station, we returned to the Park hotel for a night of much welcome sleep. My throat was sore, though, but I attributed this to the horrible air quality.
The next morning, we awoke a 5am for a 12-hour bus ride to Nainital. One of our professors picked up the morning pape, and informed us that Obama had accepted the Democratic presidential nomination. After the past few months of cut-throat politics, hearing this news in India was rather anti-climactical. The drive through the mountains to Nainital made even my nerves-of-steel uneasy. At times, I looked out the window to see our bus only inches away from the drop-off into nothingness. Fortunately, we finally arrived and the town was gorgeous. Our elegant room at the Hotel Classic had a spectacular view of the glimmering lake, surrounded by the beautiful mountains. I got the feeling, though, that this was where all the Indians come for vacation, as I did not see a single other white/Western person that wasn't part of our group.
I was rather nervous for the bus ride the following day from Nainital to our final destination, Kausani. It was a 5-hour trek, and word had it that the mountains were even scarier. I couldn't imagine. Following my mum's advice, I sat on the inside aisle of the bus, and listened to episodes of This American Life for the majority of the ride yesterday. About half-an-hour after leaving, though, I had a bit of a scare. My hands were getting progressively tinglier, to the point where I could hardly move them. I was a little short of breath, as well, so I popped a couple Benadryl and a couple other girls started massaging my hands. Much to my gratitude, I regained feeling in my hands and could move them as usual about 30 minutes later. Later that evening, after arriving safely in Kausani, I called up Uncle David and explained the ordeal. He suspects I have a bit of a virus (i.e. my sore throat), and the stress of traveling made my body go into a sort of shock. I was just glad to hear it was nothing worse. I got a solid 10 hours of sleep last night, and for the most part, I have been feeling fine today. It is so hard to enjoy this trip when I am constantly worrying about my health! Hopefully that is the end of my problems until I return to the US.
Kausani is...rustic. Our "hotel" reminds me much of the Black Hills Playhouse, and, though our sheets are disgusting, our shower is sans curtain with a small hole in the bathroom floor, and the power turns on and off at whim, I find some consolation in pretending I'm camping back at the BHP. ;) In fact, I find it rather humorus that I traveled half-way around the world to visit another pine forest. It looks very much like home.
Today we visited Lakshmi Ashram, our reason for making this two-day journey through the crazy mountains. It was about a 30-minute hike up a steep hill in the cool rain, but it was totally worth it. Every now and then I have these moments where it feels as though all time stops and I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Sitting on the floor, eating lunch with my hands prepared by the girls at the ashram today was one of these moments. I can't really explain it, but it was cool. Seeing the young girls was energizing and inspiring. They live such simple lives, but they are all smiles! The director spoke with us about living life with "only what you need." I realize I have been very blessed in my life, and while I doubt I will go home and give up all my material possessions, I am certainly thankful for those "extras" that have been given to me. All my life is a gift. I have come to realized what is important in life. It is love. It is laughter. It is inner peace and happiness. And these I can only receive from human beings--my family and friends, and perhaps even my enemies. ;)
Now that I've shared my sappy, idealistic revelation-for-the-day with you, I best come to a close. Thanks to those who have left their comments. It's good to hear from you! I love writing this, and I am glad you (or at least some) are enjoying it. Also, thanks, Dad, for your emails and bits of wisdom. You always seem to know exactly what I need to hear: "Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Be patient with yourself." By know I should have know you'd say that. ;)
I tried publishing this post earlier this morning, but there was a power outage and I lost what I had begun. As I type this now, though, I have the most incredible view of the snow-caped Himalayan mountains out the window. The clouds just lifted enough to see them off in the distance, and it is incredible! I am in Kausani, a very small village in the mountains where we are visiting Lakshmi Ashram, a Gandhian school for girls. But first I will fill you in on what has happened since last I wrote...
We left Dharmasala on Wednesday morning, taking a 3-hour taxi ride to the train station in Chakki Bank. The train ride was much more pleasant than I had anticipated. In fact, I have ridden in far worse trains in Europe. Then again, we did have 2nd class sleeper cars, so I lounged out for the 8-hour journey with my suitcase as a pillow. While on the train, I became friends with an 8-and-a-half year old Indian girl named Smriti. She was ridiculously smart, not to mention cute. She shared her roti and bhindi (a flat bread and okra) with us, and I shared my i-pod with her as she was much intrigued by American music. It was a fun exchange of cultures. And to think I learned so much from an eight-and-a-half year old! For instance, she told me that the grass huts that are so common on the farms are, in fact, homes, but only for one person.
Upon arriving to Delhi and navigating through the chaotic masses of humanity at the train station, we returned to the Park hotel for a night of much welcome sleep. My throat was sore, though, but I attributed this to the horrible air quality.
The next morning, we awoke a 5am for a 12-hour bus ride to Nainital. One of our professors picked up the morning pape, and informed us that Obama had accepted the Democratic presidential nomination. After the past few months of cut-throat politics, hearing this news in India was rather anti-climactical. The drive through the mountains to Nainital made even my nerves-of-steel uneasy. At times, I looked out the window to see our bus only inches away from the drop-off into nothingness. Fortunately, we finally arrived and the town was gorgeous. Our elegant room at the Hotel Classic had a spectacular view of the glimmering lake, surrounded by the beautiful mountains. I got the feeling, though, that this was where all the Indians come for vacation, as I did not see a single other white/Western person that wasn't part of our group.
I was rather nervous for the bus ride the following day from Nainital to our final destination, Kausani. It was a 5-hour trek, and word had it that the mountains were even scarier. I couldn't imagine. Following my mum's advice, I sat on the inside aisle of the bus, and listened to episodes of This American Life for the majority of the ride yesterday. About half-an-hour after leaving, though, I had a bit of a scare. My hands were getting progressively tinglier, to the point where I could hardly move them. I was a little short of breath, as well, so I popped a couple Benadryl and a couple other girls started massaging my hands. Much to my gratitude, I regained feeling in my hands and could move them as usual about 30 minutes later. Later that evening, after arriving safely in Kausani, I called up Uncle David and explained the ordeal. He suspects I have a bit of a virus (i.e. my sore throat), and the stress of traveling made my body go into a sort of shock. I was just glad to hear it was nothing worse. I got a solid 10 hours of sleep last night, and for the most part, I have been feeling fine today. It is so hard to enjoy this trip when I am constantly worrying about my health! Hopefully that is the end of my problems until I return to the US.
Kausani is...rustic. Our "hotel" reminds me much of the Black Hills Playhouse, and, though our sheets are disgusting, our shower is sans curtain with a small hole in the bathroom floor, and the power turns on and off at whim, I find some consolation in pretending I'm camping back at the BHP. ;) In fact, I find it rather humorus that I traveled half-way around the world to visit another pine forest. It looks very much like home.
Today we visited Lakshmi Ashram, our reason for making this two-day journey through the crazy mountains. It was about a 30-minute hike up a steep hill in the cool rain, but it was totally worth it. Every now and then I have these moments where it feels as though all time stops and I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Sitting on the floor, eating lunch with my hands prepared by the girls at the ashram today was one of these moments. I can't really explain it, but it was cool. Seeing the young girls was energizing and inspiring. They live such simple lives, but they are all smiles! The director spoke with us about living life with "only what you need." I realize I have been very blessed in my life, and while I doubt I will go home and give up all my material possessions, I am certainly thankful for those "extras" that have been given to me. All my life is a gift. I have come to realized what is important in life. It is love. It is laughter. It is inner peace and happiness. And these I can only receive from human beings--my family and friends, and perhaps even my enemies. ;)
Now that I've shared my sappy, idealistic revelation-for-the-day with you, I best come to a close. Thanks to those who have left their comments. It's good to hear from you! I love writing this, and I am glad you (or at least some) are enjoying it. Also, thanks, Dad, for your emails and bits of wisdom. You always seem to know exactly what I need to hear: "Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Be patient with yourself." By know I should have know you'd say that. ;)
6.03.2008
Dharmasala (6)
6.3.08
I am writing while I have a moment, as I am not sure how much access to Internet/phone I will have in the upcoming days. Tomorrow we are leaving for Delhi, hopefully by train, and the next two days will be spent traveling to Kausani by bus. I'm not looking terribly forward to leaving Dharmasala, and word has it that the mountain driving to Kausani is even scarier than what we experienced on our way here. I can't even imagine!
After leaving the Internet cafe yesterday, I headed down to the taxi stop to meet the group on our way to the Tibetan Library. There was a big hullabaloo in the street, though, because, as it turned out, the Dalai Lama was on his way home. A few minutes later, four black Mercedes drove past, one of which presumably drove his Holiness. We had heard he was in the UK during our time here, and though we still won't get to see him vis-a-vis, at least we can say we were a few meters away from him! Apparently he is coming to Madison in July, so perhaps I will have to make a road trip then and see him in the US.
At the library yesterday, we met another monk, this one the former English translator to the Dalai Lama, the Venerable Lhakdor. He was a brilliant human being, and he said so much with so few words--something I have much difficulty with. :) He mentioned the importance of laughter and making people smile, and I thought of my fabulous friends and family and how much laughing we do! Another thing he said that struck me was, "In order for the world to change, individuals must be able to change." It all starts with an individual. This was very hopeful, especially after all the depressing things we've been seeing and learning.
The highlight of my day--besides possibly seeing the Dalai Lama roll by in his Cedes--was the private performance at the Tibetan Institute for the Performing Arts we were able to attend last night. I did several Tibetan folk dances to traditional music, and it was enthralling. I felt like I was back at the International Dance Festival in China (though I doubt they were ever even invited). We met the director, and I got his card because I am fairly certain I will be writing my final research paper on this organization. They are coming to Minneapolis in spring of '09, so you, too, can see for yourself! (That was my plug.)
Today was spent at Dolma Ling, the Tibetan Nuns Project where a community of Buddhist nuns live in lower Dharmasala. The nunnery was gorgeous, and I was very impressed by their technology. They are nearly completely sustainable, except for their vegetables which they couldn't manage to grow in the irregular weather, and their next project is a solar water heater. Before we left, we got to see the nuns practice their daily debate. Now, I was never much into forensics, but this "debate" was pretty darn awesome. One person is sitting and the other is standing, and through a process of crazy hand gestures and slapping of body parts, back and forth, the two debate a certain topic. I just wanted to know what they were talking about. Regardless, it was quite the sight.
Also this afternoon, we visited the Norbulingka Arts Institute. It was like a little arts community with people painting, sewing detailed appliqué, working metal, carving wood, and creating other various handicrafts. It was very cool to see. All the artists chilling out and doing their crafts made me think of the Black Hills Playhouse, and I suddenly really missed it.
We now have a couple hours to relax/pack/do some last minute shopping before our "banquet" this evening, a traditional Tibetan meal that our more-adventurous-when-it-comes-to-eating professor has arranged for us. I'm feeling a little better about eating more exotic food, though, because I picked up some cipro at a pharmacy this afternoon, per mi padre y mi madre's suggestion. Apparently they fed this to me every day when we were in the D.R., but they never thought to send it with me when I have to take care of myself in India. ;)
Well, I better get a'packing. Hope all is well with everyone back home. Missing you in India!
I am writing while I have a moment, as I am not sure how much access to Internet/phone I will have in the upcoming days. Tomorrow we are leaving for Delhi, hopefully by train, and the next two days will be spent traveling to Kausani by bus. I'm not looking terribly forward to leaving Dharmasala, and word has it that the mountain driving to Kausani is even scarier than what we experienced on our way here. I can't even imagine!
After leaving the Internet cafe yesterday, I headed down to the taxi stop to meet the group on our way to the Tibetan Library. There was a big hullabaloo in the street, though, because, as it turned out, the Dalai Lama was on his way home. A few minutes later, four black Mercedes drove past, one of which presumably drove his Holiness. We had heard he was in the UK during our time here, and though we still won't get to see him vis-a-vis, at least we can say we were a few meters away from him! Apparently he is coming to Madison in July, so perhaps I will have to make a road trip then and see him in the US.
At the library yesterday, we met another monk, this one the former English translator to the Dalai Lama, the Venerable Lhakdor. He was a brilliant human being, and he said so much with so few words--something I have much difficulty with. :) He mentioned the importance of laughter and making people smile, and I thought of my fabulous friends and family and how much laughing we do! Another thing he said that struck me was, "In order for the world to change, individuals must be able to change." It all starts with an individual. This was very hopeful, especially after all the depressing things we've been seeing and learning.
The highlight of my day--besides possibly seeing the Dalai Lama roll by in his Cedes--was the private performance at the Tibetan Institute for the Performing Arts we were able to attend last night. I did several Tibetan folk dances to traditional music, and it was enthralling. I felt like I was back at the International Dance Festival in China (though I doubt they were ever even invited). We met the director, and I got his card because I am fairly certain I will be writing my final research paper on this organization. They are coming to Minneapolis in spring of '09, so you, too, can see for yourself! (That was my plug.)
Today was spent at Dolma Ling, the Tibetan Nuns Project where a community of Buddhist nuns live in lower Dharmasala. The nunnery was gorgeous, and I was very impressed by their technology. They are nearly completely sustainable, except for their vegetables which they couldn't manage to grow in the irregular weather, and their next project is a solar water heater. Before we left, we got to see the nuns practice their daily debate. Now, I was never much into forensics, but this "debate" was pretty darn awesome. One person is sitting and the other is standing, and through a process of crazy hand gestures and slapping of body parts, back and forth, the two debate a certain topic. I just wanted to know what they were talking about. Regardless, it was quite the sight.
Also this afternoon, we visited the Norbulingka Arts Institute. It was like a little arts community with people painting, sewing detailed appliqué, working metal, carving wood, and creating other various handicrafts. It was very cool to see. All the artists chilling out and doing their crafts made me think of the Black Hills Playhouse, and I suddenly really missed it.
We now have a couple hours to relax/pack/do some last minute shopping before our "banquet" this evening, a traditional Tibetan meal that our more-adventurous-when-it-comes-to-eating professor has arranged for us. I'm feeling a little better about eating more exotic food, though, because I picked up some cipro at a pharmacy this afternoon, per mi padre y mi madre's suggestion. Apparently they fed this to me every day when we were in the D.R., but they never thought to send it with me when I have to take care of myself in India. ;)
Well, I better get a'packing. Hope all is well with everyone back home. Missing you in India!
6.02.2008
Dharmasala (5)
6.2.08
Yesterday morning, most of our group went on a hike in the foothills of the Himalayans. It was spectacular. I cannot convey the beauty justly, but I will try: snow-topped mountains, fresh mountain air, the sound of running water winding through the hills, tiny huts with monks poking their heads out, cows wandering on the trail, Tibetan prayer flags throughout the forest, and, finally, an awesome spring with the clearest water I have ever seen. It was incredible. In all, it was a 6-7 K hike through steep terrain, leaving some more worn out than others. ;)
When we returned to Dharmasala, I went to a coffee shop for lunch where I enjoyed a grilled Swiss sandwich and the best latte I have ever tasted. I tried to read a bit of the book by Ama Adhe, a 79-year-old Tibetan refugee who was in prison in Tibet for 27 years, since were were meeting her later that afternoon. It was hard to concentrate, though, because I kept eavesdropping on the couple who was sitting near by speaking French. I asked them where they were from before I left, though, and they said Holland. Go figure.
When we met with Ama Adhe, we had a translator because she cannot even read or write, let alone speak English. Despite all the suffering she has witnessed, she is still smiling. Her heart is enormous, and she had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen--sad, yet hopeful; tired, yet vibrant. Simply being in her presence was incredible. The Chinese have taken her family, her friends, and her home, but her spirit is alive and well.
For dinner, I ate at Jimmy's, "The Best Italian Restaurant in Town." I had a nice penne with a creamy sauce, although, this morning, I'm regretting it, as I'm not feeling my bestest. I slept a lot last night (perhaps too much) and I awoke to a rainy, gloomy day. As much as I love the rain, it does absolutely nothing for my mood. I am trying to live in the present and enjoy the moment, but it is hard for me. I keep thinking, "Oh, I wish so-and-so were here. He/She'd love this!" or "I can't wait to get home in two weeks and tell so-and-so about this." I love writing to you all, though, and even more so when you write back! Thank you.
This morning, we had a meditation session for those who wanted. Then we are headed down the hill to the Tibetan Library. This evening we are seeing a performance by the Tibetan Institute for the Performing Arts--a company which has come to Minneapolis before--and I am very excited, because I think this may be what I write my final research paper on. I'm not so sure how much information is out there about it, though. I guess I will find out.
Well, I best go, so as not to be late for the next thing. As always, peace and love. ~kg
Yesterday morning, most of our group went on a hike in the foothills of the Himalayans. It was spectacular. I cannot convey the beauty justly, but I will try: snow-topped mountains, fresh mountain air, the sound of running water winding through the hills, tiny huts with monks poking their heads out, cows wandering on the trail, Tibetan prayer flags throughout the forest, and, finally, an awesome spring with the clearest water I have ever seen. It was incredible. In all, it was a 6-7 K hike through steep terrain, leaving some more worn out than others. ;)
When we returned to Dharmasala, I went to a coffee shop for lunch where I enjoyed a grilled Swiss sandwich and the best latte I have ever tasted. I tried to read a bit of the book by Ama Adhe, a 79-year-old Tibetan refugee who was in prison in Tibet for 27 years, since were were meeting her later that afternoon. It was hard to concentrate, though, because I kept eavesdropping on the couple who was sitting near by speaking French. I asked them where they were from before I left, though, and they said Holland. Go figure.
When we met with Ama Adhe, we had a translator because she cannot even read or write, let alone speak English. Despite all the suffering she has witnessed, she is still smiling. Her heart is enormous, and she had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen--sad, yet hopeful; tired, yet vibrant. Simply being in her presence was incredible. The Chinese have taken her family, her friends, and her home, but her spirit is alive and well.
For dinner, I ate at Jimmy's, "The Best Italian Restaurant in Town." I had a nice penne with a creamy sauce, although, this morning, I'm regretting it, as I'm not feeling my bestest. I slept a lot last night (perhaps too much) and I awoke to a rainy, gloomy day. As much as I love the rain, it does absolutely nothing for my mood. I am trying to live in the present and enjoy the moment, but it is hard for me. I keep thinking, "Oh, I wish so-and-so were here. He/She'd love this!" or "I can't wait to get home in two weeks and tell so-and-so about this." I love writing to you all, though, and even more so when you write back! Thank you.
This morning, we had a meditation session for those who wanted. Then we are headed down the hill to the Tibetan Library. This evening we are seeing a performance by the Tibetan Institute for the Performing Arts--a company which has come to Minneapolis before--and I am very excited, because I think this may be what I write my final research paper on. I'm not so sure how much information is out there about it, though. I guess I will find out.
Well, I best go, so as not to be late for the next thing. As always, peace and love. ~kg
5.31.2008
Dharmasala (4)
5.31.08
We got on the bus yesterday at "o'dark-thirty," as popsicle would say, and 15 hours later, we arrived in Dharmasala. It wasn't the smoothest drive in the world, but I was feeling a little better. Still, Indian food was the last thing I wanted to eat. The night before, I found some crackers and chocolate chip cookies, so these sustained me during our long journey. The drive was far from smooth, but it was interesting to see India outside of Delhi: factories, rice fields, condos, grass huts, billboards, the smallest horses I've ever seen, school buses (but they were empty...maybe it was too early, still?), and lots and lots of marijuana growing on the side of the road.
Then we came to the mountains. Breath taking. The drive was like 3-hours of the crazy driver up Mount Tabor in Israel, like a 3rd world version of the road from Nice to Monaco, like taking a bus up the narrow roads in Haute de Cagne Sur Mer. Navigating through passages that one might think were impossible to fit through, I decided not to look up and read my Dalai Lama book, instead. (I'm still way behind on my reading...). Then the road became even rougher: pot-holes, one-lane roads with two-way traffic, and some roads unpaved. Our master bus driver skillfully got us to our destination, though, with only a few near death experiences, and the vistas were gorgeous. They looked like the default desktop backgrounds on your computer. ; )
Upon arrival at our hotel, the Hotel Surya, I once again was feeling like shit. I had some rice for dinner, feeling like I was once again a 13-year old fickle eater in China, and went straight away to bed. The Hotel Surya is far from The Park. One of the rooms was infested with ants (but they got upgraded to a suite), you have to be half-smart to flush the toilets, and the beds smell like rubber. The mattresses, like I remember in China, are super stiff. This was quite welcome for me, though, because my back was of wack, and I slept the best sleep since coming to India.
This morning, I awoke feeling much better. I am afraid to get sick again, though, so I have been sticking to bland, inauthentic meals such as toast, fruit, crackers, and rice. Food is one of my favorite parts of traveling, but with two weeks left, my antibiotics gone, and an aversion to Indian food, I have been going "picky foreigner style." I see all these people around me with so little, and I think, "Yea, I can do without a lot of the extra stuff in my daily life." But when I was sick, I wanted to be on the next flight home, back to the comforts of home and those who love me. Ahh! It's a quandary.
This morning, we met with the Prime Minister of the Tibetan Government in Exile. He was a little, old Buddhist monk. He spoke with a calm and deliberate voice, but his eyes were sad. "We are living on a day-to-day basis." I asked him what gives him hope, and he said two things: First, what Tibetans are asking for is nothing unreasonable. Rather, it is based in truth and justice. Secondly, he was assured that the nonviolent movement will overcome violence in the end. Later in the afternoon, we met with one of the workers at the Tibetan Center for Human Rights. He spoke a lot about the need for a dialogue between Tibetan and Chinese leaders, as well as the need for the media to go TO Tibet. There is a lot going on there that we do not know about because word never gets out.
Dharmasala is gorgeous. I am glad to be in the mountains, away from the hustle and bustle of Delhi. The mountain air is also very welcome. Interestingly, there are a lot more Western tourists here than I saw in Delhi. Lots of backpackers and hippy types, looking for enlightenment, I'm sure. (Sorry, I was being cynical again. I know, I know, "Cynicism is too easy." Thank you, father.)
Well, I best close for now. I miss you terribly! Two more weeks. Goodness, that seems like a long time...
We got on the bus yesterday at "o'dark-thirty," as popsicle would say, and 15 hours later, we arrived in Dharmasala. It wasn't the smoothest drive in the world, but I was feeling a little better. Still, Indian food was the last thing I wanted to eat. The night before, I found some crackers and chocolate chip cookies, so these sustained me during our long journey. The drive was far from smooth, but it was interesting to see India outside of Delhi: factories, rice fields, condos, grass huts, billboards, the smallest horses I've ever seen, school buses (but they were empty...maybe it was too early, still?), and lots and lots of marijuana growing on the side of the road.
Then we came to the mountains. Breath taking. The drive was like 3-hours of the crazy driver up Mount Tabor in Israel, like a 3rd world version of the road from Nice to Monaco, like taking a bus up the narrow roads in Haute de Cagne Sur Mer. Navigating through passages that one might think were impossible to fit through, I decided not to look up and read my Dalai Lama book, instead. (I'm still way behind on my reading...). Then the road became even rougher: pot-holes, one-lane roads with two-way traffic, and some roads unpaved. Our master bus driver skillfully got us to our destination, though, with only a few near death experiences, and the vistas were gorgeous. They looked like the default desktop backgrounds on your computer. ; )
Upon arrival at our hotel, the Hotel Surya, I once again was feeling like shit. I had some rice for dinner, feeling like I was once again a 13-year old fickle eater in China, and went straight away to bed. The Hotel Surya is far from The Park. One of the rooms was infested with ants (but they got upgraded to a suite), you have to be half-smart to flush the toilets, and the beds smell like rubber. The mattresses, like I remember in China, are super stiff. This was quite welcome for me, though, because my back was of wack, and I slept the best sleep since coming to India.
This morning, I awoke feeling much better. I am afraid to get sick again, though, so I have been sticking to bland, inauthentic meals such as toast, fruit, crackers, and rice. Food is one of my favorite parts of traveling, but with two weeks left, my antibiotics gone, and an aversion to Indian food, I have been going "picky foreigner style." I see all these people around me with so little, and I think, "Yea, I can do without a lot of the extra stuff in my daily life." But when I was sick, I wanted to be on the next flight home, back to the comforts of home and those who love me. Ahh! It's a quandary.
This morning, we met with the Prime Minister of the Tibetan Government in Exile. He was a little, old Buddhist monk. He spoke with a calm and deliberate voice, but his eyes were sad. "We are living on a day-to-day basis." I asked him what gives him hope, and he said two things: First, what Tibetans are asking for is nothing unreasonable. Rather, it is based in truth and justice. Secondly, he was assured that the nonviolent movement will overcome violence in the end. Later in the afternoon, we met with one of the workers at the Tibetan Center for Human Rights. He spoke a lot about the need for a dialogue between Tibetan and Chinese leaders, as well as the need for the media to go TO Tibet. There is a lot going on there that we do not know about because word never gets out.
Dharmasala is gorgeous. I am glad to be in the mountains, away from the hustle and bustle of Delhi. The mountain air is also very welcome. Interestingly, there are a lot more Western tourists here than I saw in Delhi. Lots of backpackers and hippy types, looking for enlightenment, I'm sure. (Sorry, I was being cynical again. I know, I know, "Cynicism is too easy." Thank you, father.)
Well, I best close for now. I miss you terribly! Two more weeks. Goodness, that seems like a long time...
5.29.2008
New Delhi (3)
5.29.08
After leaving the Internet cafe last night, I stopped at the restaurant we had been to the night before to get a pizza to go, figuring I'd eat half for dinner and the other half for lunch today on the train. While I was waiting, I noticed a sign on the wall that said, "Absolutely no one under the age of 25 may consume alcohol." Oops. I guess the US doesn't have the highest drinking age, after all. By the time I got back to the hotel, eating pizza was the last thing I wanted to do, so I packed up my bags and went to bed early. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling terrible. Afraid to be sick on the train, I popped an antibiotic and laid awake for the next few hours, wishing I could just fall asleep. Our 3am wake up call came too soon, and we loaded up on the bus. I was not the only one feeling ill, as it turns out. My roommate was sick the day before, and another girl looked as bad as I felt.
When we got to the train station, I was feeling a little better. Our train was delayed, so we sat and waited. The train station. The largest rats I've ever seen, feasting on a smorgasbord of garbage. The smell. The putrid smell of excrement. The smell of cannabis. The smell of sweaty, hot, India. Extreme fatigue started setting in, and tears started welling up in my eyes. Oh, how I longed for my bed. My bed, some peanut butter, and a tight hug. I pulled out the i.pod, despite the strange looks, and listened to my pick-me-up song, "End of the Line" by Bob Dylan. Thank God for music. Thank God. Ironically, the next song that played on shuffle was Tom Petty's "American Girl." How true, how true! I am a very fortunate American girl, indeed, and I miss it.
As it turned out, our train was delayed because the Gujjars, a tribe that is not yet recognized by the Indian government, were protesting--civil disobedience--how appropriate. The train we were supposed to take was rerouted on the way to Delhi to avoid the protests, but there was no telling when it would arrive. So, we returned to our hotel--the best news I had heard all day! We had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, so we couldn't wander too far. This wasn't a problem for me, though, since I was so incredibly grateful to have some time to rest in the comfort of a bed.
The day passed, and still no news of our train. Finally, we heard it was coming at 7 pm. Rather than take the train at night, though, our professors decided we will be taking a bus tomorrow. It will be a long drive, and we must leave at 5am. Nonetheless, I am so happy that I didn't have to spend today sick on a train!
As it turned out, our train was delayed because the Gujjars, a tribe that is not yet recognized by the Indian government, were protesting--civil disobedience--how appropriate. The train we were supposed to take was rerouted on the way to Delhi to avoid the protests, but there was no telling when it would arrive. So, we returned to our hotel--the best news I had heard all day! We had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, so we couldn't wander too far. This wasn't a problem for me, though, since I was so incredibly grateful to have some time to rest in the comfort of a bed.
The day passed, and still no news of our train. Finally, we heard it was coming at 7 pm. Rather than take the train at night, though, our professors decided we will be taking a bus tomorrow. It will be a long drive, and we must leave at 5am. Nonetheless, I am so happy that I didn't have to spend today sick on a train!
5.28.2008
New Delhi (2)
5.28.08
Today was Gandhi day. Randall, you would have loved it. ;) Our first stop this morning was at the Raj Ghat, a national monument where Gandhi was cremated. Then we returned to the Gandhi Peace Foundation for another lecture and lunch. In the afternoon, we visited the Gandhi Smriti, where he spent his last 100-some days and was ultimately assassinated, and the National Gandhi Museum. He was a great man, and I've enjoyed studying him, but I'm a little Gandhi-ed out, to be honest.
Fortunately, we are moving on the the Dalai Lama tomorrow! We are boarding a train at 5am to the mountains where we will then transfer to car to make our way up to the little Tibetan refuge village of Dharmasala. I'm looking forward to it, but all this go-go-go is starting to take a toll on me. Hopefully we will have a little more time to ourselves in Dharmasala. There is still all this reading that I'm supposed to do, but I have a VERY hard time motivating myself to sit in my room and read about India when I could be out EXPERIENCING it. I hate the "study" part of study abroad trips.
I finally found an Internet cafe at which I've been able to spend a decent amount of time writing. New Delhi is unlike any big city I've ever visited. For one, there are very few tall buildings. Most of the city is relatively flat. Also, it is a strange paradox between the fancy billboards for UCB, America's Next Top Model, and Rolex watches and the poor, simple people that fill the streets. I don't think there is such thing as a mall, and I highly doubt anyone has a TV with cable in their tarp tents. My professor told me, "In America, you can kiss anywhere in the streets and pee nowhere. In India, you can pee anywhere, and kiss nowhere." While I'm loving this incredible experience, I'm beginning to like America more and more... ;)
Well, I best close for now. It is getting dark out, and I have to navigate my way back through the twisted streets to the hotel. I miss all of you dearly, and I hope to write again soon from Dharmasala. Peace and love. ~Kels
Today was Gandhi day. Randall, you would have loved it. ;) Our first stop this morning was at the Raj Ghat, a national monument where Gandhi was cremated. Then we returned to the Gandhi Peace Foundation for another lecture and lunch. In the afternoon, we visited the Gandhi Smriti, where he spent his last 100-some days and was ultimately assassinated, and the National Gandhi Museum. He was a great man, and I've enjoyed studying him, but I'm a little Gandhi-ed out, to be honest.
Fortunately, we are moving on the the Dalai Lama tomorrow! We are boarding a train at 5am to the mountains where we will then transfer to car to make our way up to the little Tibetan refuge village of Dharmasala. I'm looking forward to it, but all this go-go-go is starting to take a toll on me. Hopefully we will have a little more time to ourselves in Dharmasala. There is still all this reading that I'm supposed to do, but I have a VERY hard time motivating myself to sit in my room and read about India when I could be out EXPERIENCING it. I hate the "study" part of study abroad trips.
I finally found an Internet cafe at which I've been able to spend a decent amount of time writing. New Delhi is unlike any big city I've ever visited. For one, there are very few tall buildings. Most of the city is relatively flat. Also, it is a strange paradox between the fancy billboards for UCB, America's Next Top Model, and Rolex watches and the poor, simple people that fill the streets. I don't think there is such thing as a mall, and I highly doubt anyone has a TV with cable in their tarp tents. My professor told me, "In America, you can kiss anywhere in the streets and pee nowhere. In India, you can pee anywhere, and kiss nowhere." While I'm loving this incredible experience, I'm beginning to like America more and more... ;)
Well, I best close for now. It is getting dark out, and I have to navigate my way back through the twisted streets to the hotel. I miss all of you dearly, and I hope to write again soon from Dharmasala. Peace and love. ~Kels
5.27.2008
New Delhi (1)
5.27.08
This is the first time I've been able to get Internet access. Since arriving in New Delhi on Sunday night after a 15-hour flight, we have been busy, busy, busy!
Friday night, my last night in the US, I moved all my belongings that I was leaving while I'm away (sheets, shorts, shoes, etc.) to store at a friend's house. I got a few hours' sleep on the "chastity couch," so named because you can do little more than sleep on it, had breakfast at Brewberry's, checked out of my room, and caught Bus 74 to the train en route to the airport. We flew from MSP to Chicago, and from Chicago straight to New Delhi--a 14-15 hour flight on which, again, I got very little sleep. ;) I had a window seat, though, and while it was too dark to see the polar ice caps as we flew over them, I watched the sun set over Canada, and saw the Url mountains from high above. It was pretty sweet.
We arrived in New Delhi at 8:00 pm, Sunday night. After picking up our baggage, clearing immigration, and exchanging some money, we walked outside to be greeted with a "traditional welcoming" of drums, a crazy horn, and dancing. It was outrageous! We received long strings of marigolds around our necks, looked ever so touristy, and got on a bus with our tour guide--an Indian with a really long name, so we just call him "Lee." While in Delhi, we have posh accommodations at a swanky hotel, The Park Hotel, because the hotel we were originally going to stay in is undergoing renovations. Before finding our rooms to get some much welcomed sleep, we were given mango juice to drink and crushed rose-petal dots on our foreheads. I felt very exotic, indeed.
My roommate is a very quiet, "normal" girl, and this is her first time out of the US. I feel a little jaded because a lot of what is new and exciting for her is old hat for me. Don't get me wrong--there are lots of things on this trip that are new for me too. Anyhoo, it turns out that she has a horrible allergy to almonds! (I had a close call with a good friend in France last summer who accidentally ate an almond and nearly stopped breathing.) After last summer, I didn't leave the country without some Benadryl, and I now carry a wicked epi-pen in my sac. I just hope I don't have to use it.
The next morning, I woke up on my own at 7am. Breakfast was in our hotel. I had some muesli and yogurt, coffee, and a croissant, but wanting to break out of my euro-american mold, I also tried a crepe-looking dish, which I later found out was a dosa, a very thin rice pancake that had golden potatoes inside. It was a little odd for breakfast, but delicious nonetheless. By the time we got on the bus, it was raining torrents. Despite the knee-deep water in parts, the streets were still full of bicycles, motorcycles, compact cars, buses, and large trucks. (The traffic is crazy--people drive British style, on the left, and according to our guide, one needs three things to drive in Delhi: good brakes, a good horn, and good luck!)
Our first stop was the "Eiffel Tower of India," a large stone pillar called Qutab Minar. The rain subsided and we went to lunch at a little restaurant where we ate naan (a flat bread), chicken masala, paneer (a cottage cheese made from buffalo milk) and vegetables, a lentil dish, and a small scoop of rich vanilla ice cream for dessert, also made from buffalo's milk. After that filling lunch, I was ready for a nap, but there was much more in store for the day.
Next up was the Humayun Tomb, a Muslim tomb built for the second Mughal emperor. The poor guy ruled in exile, and the day after he returned to the empire, he threw a wild party, ODed on opium, and tripped down the stairs, realizing an instant death. Karma bites. Later in the afternoon, we did a little shopping. Inspired by my great-grandmother who bought some jewelry which my mum has today on a train trip across the Orient, I purchased a few pieces in hopes that my great-grandchildren will think their as cool as I do some day. ; )
Our final adventure for the afternoon was a rickshaw ride through Old Delhi. Though it was not my first time in these crazy bicycle carts, I was very excited because this was the "must do in Delhi" according to the Mortimers. The smells were potent and the streets crowded, but fortunately, our fearless driver averted most of the pot-holes and potential collisions. Then we visited Jama Masjid, one of the largest mosques in India. As with many holy places, we had to take our shoes off; it's kind of funny seeing everyone walking around barefoot. Once inside, we were bombarded with Indians wanting to take our photographs. This had been happening most of the day at the monuments which we visited; I guess a group of 20 fair-skinned women really do stand out... I wasn't as shocked as most of the other ladies, though, because the exact same thing happened to Aish and I when we were in China, almost 8 years ago (Wow, how time flies!).
In the evenings, we have some "free time," but I do not feel comfortable walking alone outside of our hotel after dark. Most of the other girls just hang out in their rooms, doing the required readings (Give me a break! You can read when we're in the US.), sleeping, etc. "360-degree vision," my dad says, but I stand out like an apple in a cherry tree. It frustrates me to no end, and I miss traveling with my family or my guy friends--so much for being an "independent woman."
Our second day in India began by visiting the Gandhi Peace Foundation where we had a couple lectures in the morning, followed by lunch at the institute. I have been learning quite a bit about Hinduism, and I find it fascinating how accepting they are of other religions. "Each must find her own path." This whole religious pluralism idea is starting to make a lot of sense.
We paid a visit to the National Museum, full of ancient artifacts and historic sculptures. It was trying to pay attention, though (especially with the Indian accents), because the fatigue was finally catching up to me. I felt a little guilty that I wasn't fully appreciating the history that was at my fingertips. Our last stop for the day was at the Hindu temple Birla Mandir. I was completely exhausted by this point, and the heat didn't help. We had a few minutes to our selves, though, and I sat in front of some Hindu goddess, meditating--something I haven't done since my brief dabbling in yoga and tai chi six years ago. It was incredible. Afterwards, I felt completely refreshed, and I had this tingling energy all over. Both our tour guide and one of my professors came up to me after and asked if I meditated regularly. ??? Apparently, I must have been doing something right. :)
When we got back to the hotel, I tried to make a few phone calls at the STD stand (no joke, that's what their phones are called), but the reception was so shitty, it was hardly worth it. The phone was in this sketchy store in a back alley, but it was quieter than the phone carts that are out on the street--the horns are constantly honking. Hopefully I'll be able to find a better phone from which to call later.
At dinner, I had a glass of Indian Sauvignon Blanc, and, to tell the truth, it was pretty decent--nice and tart, not too dry. I was so happy to have some wine! I guess it's kind of a comfort food...
This is the first time I've been able to get Internet access. Since arriving in New Delhi on Sunday night after a 15-hour flight, we have been busy, busy, busy!
Friday night, my last night in the US, I moved all my belongings that I was leaving while I'm away (sheets, shorts, shoes, etc.) to store at a friend's house. I got a few hours' sleep on the "chastity couch," so named because you can do little more than sleep on it, had breakfast at Brewberry's, checked out of my room, and caught Bus 74 to the train en route to the airport. We flew from MSP to Chicago, and from Chicago straight to New Delhi--a 14-15 hour flight on which, again, I got very little sleep. ;) I had a window seat, though, and while it was too dark to see the polar ice caps as we flew over them, I watched the sun set over Canada, and saw the Url mountains from high above. It was pretty sweet.
We arrived in New Delhi at 8:00 pm, Sunday night. After picking up our baggage, clearing immigration, and exchanging some money, we walked outside to be greeted with a "traditional welcoming" of drums, a crazy horn, and dancing. It was outrageous! We received long strings of marigolds around our necks, looked ever so touristy, and got on a bus with our tour guide--an Indian with a really long name, so we just call him "Lee." While in Delhi, we have posh accommodations at a swanky hotel, The Park Hotel, because the hotel we were originally going to stay in is undergoing renovations. Before finding our rooms to get some much welcomed sleep, we were given mango juice to drink and crushed rose-petal dots on our foreheads. I felt very exotic, indeed.
My roommate is a very quiet, "normal" girl, and this is her first time out of the US. I feel a little jaded because a lot of what is new and exciting for her is old hat for me. Don't get me wrong--there are lots of things on this trip that are new for me too. Anyhoo, it turns out that she has a horrible allergy to almonds! (I had a close call with a good friend in France last summer who accidentally ate an almond and nearly stopped breathing.) After last summer, I didn't leave the country without some Benadryl, and I now carry a wicked epi-pen in my sac. I just hope I don't have to use it.
The next morning, I woke up on my own at 7am. Breakfast was in our hotel. I had some muesli and yogurt, coffee, and a croissant, but wanting to break out of my euro-american mold, I also tried a crepe-looking dish, which I later found out was a dosa, a very thin rice pancake that had golden potatoes inside. It was a little odd for breakfast, but delicious nonetheless. By the time we got on the bus, it was raining torrents. Despite the knee-deep water in parts, the streets were still full of bicycles, motorcycles, compact cars, buses, and large trucks. (The traffic is crazy--people drive British style, on the left, and according to our guide, one needs three things to drive in Delhi: good brakes, a good horn, and good luck!)
Our first stop was the "Eiffel Tower of India," a large stone pillar called Qutab Minar. The rain subsided and we went to lunch at a little restaurant where we ate naan (a flat bread), chicken masala, paneer (a cottage cheese made from buffalo milk) and vegetables, a lentil dish, and a small scoop of rich vanilla ice cream for dessert, also made from buffalo's milk. After that filling lunch, I was ready for a nap, but there was much more in store for the day.
Next up was the Humayun Tomb, a Muslim tomb built for the second Mughal emperor. The poor guy ruled in exile, and the day after he returned to the empire, he threw a wild party, ODed on opium, and tripped down the stairs, realizing an instant death. Karma bites. Later in the afternoon, we did a little shopping. Inspired by my great-grandmother who bought some jewelry which my mum has today on a train trip across the Orient, I purchased a few pieces in hopes that my great-grandchildren will think their as cool as I do some day. ; )
Our final adventure for the afternoon was a rickshaw ride through Old Delhi. Though it was not my first time in these crazy bicycle carts, I was very excited because this was the "must do in Delhi" according to the Mortimers. The smells were potent and the streets crowded, but fortunately, our fearless driver averted most of the pot-holes and potential collisions. Then we visited Jama Masjid, one of the largest mosques in India. As with many holy places, we had to take our shoes off; it's kind of funny seeing everyone walking around barefoot. Once inside, we were bombarded with Indians wanting to take our photographs. This had been happening most of the day at the monuments which we visited; I guess a group of 20 fair-skinned women really do stand out... I wasn't as shocked as most of the other ladies, though, because the exact same thing happened to Aish and I when we were in China, almost 8 years ago (Wow, how time flies!).
In the evenings, we have some "free time," but I do not feel comfortable walking alone outside of our hotel after dark. Most of the other girls just hang out in their rooms, doing the required readings (Give me a break! You can read when we're in the US.), sleeping, etc. "360-degree vision," my dad says, but I stand out like an apple in a cherry tree. It frustrates me to no end, and I miss traveling with my family or my guy friends--so much for being an "independent woman."
Our second day in India began by visiting the Gandhi Peace Foundation where we had a couple lectures in the morning, followed by lunch at the institute. I have been learning quite a bit about Hinduism, and I find it fascinating how accepting they are of other religions. "Each must find her own path." This whole religious pluralism idea is starting to make a lot of sense.
We paid a visit to the National Museum, full of ancient artifacts and historic sculptures. It was trying to pay attention, though (especially with the Indian accents), because the fatigue was finally catching up to me. I felt a little guilty that I wasn't fully appreciating the history that was at my fingertips. Our last stop for the day was at the Hindu temple Birla Mandir. I was completely exhausted by this point, and the heat didn't help. We had a few minutes to our selves, though, and I sat in front of some Hindu goddess, meditating--something I haven't done since my brief dabbling in yoga and tai chi six years ago. It was incredible. Afterwards, I felt completely refreshed, and I had this tingling energy all over. Both our tour guide and one of my professors came up to me after and asked if I meditated regularly. ??? Apparently, I must have been doing something right. :)
When we got back to the hotel, I tried to make a few phone calls at the STD stand (no joke, that's what their phones are called), but the reception was so shitty, it was hardly worth it. The phone was in this sketchy store in a back alley, but it was quieter than the phone carts that are out on the street--the horns are constantly honking. Hopefully I'll be able to find a better phone from which to call later.
At dinner, I had a glass of Indian Sauvignon Blanc, and, to tell the truth, it was pretty decent--nice and tart, not too dry. I was so happy to have some wine! I guess it's kind of a comfort food...
5.23.2008
INDIA, 5.23.08
5.23.08
For the past 24 hours, I have had "This Time Tomorrow," by the Kinks, playing over and over in my mind. Now it really is this time, tomorrow, that I will be checking in at the MSP airport, embarking on another crazy adventure. I have a tendency to get myself into situations like this without fully realizing what I've gotten myself into. (So far, fortunately, it has worked out.) I can't really say why I'm going. The day before leaving for Christmas break, I saw a poster advertising this class, thought, "Darn it, Kelsye, you'll probably never go to India otherwise," and went to the Global Studies office to pick up an app. Now here am I, five months later, with this romanticized vision of a far-off land: colorful silks, spicy food, simple lives, the Beatles chilling in an ashram, Buddha, enlightenment, and, yes, tele-operators who speak English better than me.
I am not nervous. Far from it, really. I thought I would be afraid of missing people, of missing familiarity and comfort--not so much, though. Maybe that will change... As of right now, I just want to get on that plane and leave. Go. Get away. I've been packed and ready to go since Tuesday, when I came back to the Twin Cities, and since then, it's been a long few days of walking, reading, writing, and thinking. Lots of thinking. And, while I'm grateful for this time to be alone and reflect before going to India, I'm just want to hurry up and go now. It's a strange feeling somewhere between independence and loneliness. For example, I am perfectly capable of getting to the airport on my own. I've done it umpteen times. This time, though, it's a little peculiar not having anyone to kiss goodbye. But, alas, so it goes.
Peace out~ if all goes as planned, the next time I write, I'll finally be there (and probably wanting to be back here--funny how that works...). Love to all, ~kg
For the past 24 hours, I have had "This Time Tomorrow," by the Kinks, playing over and over in my mind. Now it really is this time, tomorrow, that I will be checking in at the MSP airport, embarking on another crazy adventure. I have a tendency to get myself into situations like this without fully realizing what I've gotten myself into. (So far, fortunately, it has worked out.) I can't really say why I'm going. The day before leaving for Christmas break, I saw a poster advertising this class, thought, "Darn it, Kelsye, you'll probably never go to India otherwise," and went to the Global Studies office to pick up an app. Now here am I, five months later, with this romanticized vision of a far-off land: colorful silks, spicy food, simple lives, the Beatles chilling in an ashram, Buddha, enlightenment, and, yes, tele-operators who speak English better than me.
I am not nervous. Far from it, really. I thought I would be afraid of missing people, of missing familiarity and comfort--not so much, though. Maybe that will change... As of right now, I just want to get on that plane and leave. Go. Get away. I've been packed and ready to go since Tuesday, when I came back to the Twin Cities, and since then, it's been a long few days of walking, reading, writing, and thinking. Lots of thinking. And, while I'm grateful for this time to be alone and reflect before going to India, I'm just want to hurry up and go now. It's a strange feeling somewhere between independence and loneliness. For example, I am perfectly capable of getting to the airport on my own. I've done it umpteen times. This time, though, it's a little peculiar not having anyone to kiss goodbye. But, alas, so it goes.
Peace out~ if all goes as planned, the next time I write, I'll finally be there (and probably wanting to be back here--funny how that works...). Love to all, ~kg
5.20.2008
INDIA, 5.20.08
5.20.08
St. Paul, MN
In four days, I will be on one of the world's longest non-stop flights, half way around the world from Chicago to New Delhi. I am traveling to India for three weeks with 19 other students and 2 professors for a class called "The Global Search for Justice," one of the core requirements at St. Kate's. The title of this course is "Spiritual Voices of Dissent," so we will be studying Gandhi, the Dalai Lama, Tibet, Mother Theresa, religious pluralism, and various other enlightening issues. In addition to Delhi, we will be visiting Dharmasala (where the Lama kicks it), Kausani (a tiny village I had trouble finding on Google...), and Agra (where the Taj Mahal is).
So far, most everyone has seemed to have some sort of advice or request for me while I'm gone: "Take a ride around Old Delhi in a rickshaw," "Don't get malaria," "Say Hello to the Dalai Lama for me," etc. My favorite piece of advice came from my sister's best friend, Brian: "Don't' get lost. There are a lot of people in India. It's purple on the population map, you know."
I flew back to St. Paul this morning after kissing the fam adieu. Mum didn't even get teary-eyed. I guess she is finally growing up. I took the bus back to St. Kate's, checked back in to my old room, now with bare walls, empty cupboards, and no more roommates, and started writing my Gandhi reflection paper that was due at our class meeting later this evening. For lunch, Katie and I went to our favorite restaurant, Shiish, where we eat nearly once a week. I'm afraid I'm going to go through withdrawal over the summer.
This evening, I had my first of two pre-classes in preparation for our departure. We each received a monstrous binder of readings for our trip. This, in addition to the 4 books we supposed to read, is rather daunting. I just hope I don't end up missing everything else on our trip because my head is stuck in some book. Even after tonight, though, I'm not entirely sure what to expect. I know it will be completely abberant from anything I've ever experienced. Nonetheless, I'm feeling fairly well prepared. I finally received my visa, I've been poked in the arm with various vaccines (and have the band-aid tan to prove it), I packed some TP, per my father's suggestion, and my suitcase closes easily without having to sit on it. I guess I won't really know, though, until I get off that plane in New Delhi...
5.15.2008
FRANCE, a visual journey
Our Appartment in Bormes
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Une Rue, Haute de Cagnes Sur Mer
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Avignon at Dusk
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Le Palais des Papes
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Le Pont d'Avignon
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Le Pont d'Avignon sur le Rhone
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Avignon: The Painted City
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Horses in Avignon!? What the frug!
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The Swiss Alps from Afar
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Les Champs de Lavande en Provence (Lavander)
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Le Pont du Gard
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A Roman Ampitheatre
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My Future Jag...
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