Udaipur

At this very moment, Missy and I are sitting on the roof of our guest house, which overlooks the Old City and Lake Pichola, talking to two Australians who are traveling with their fifteen year old and eight year old children. They pulled them out of school for six weeks because they think they can learn more this way. Ummm...where is this mentality with American families?



These Indian cities just keep getting better and better. Udaipur was simply divine. This city has exceeded my already high expectations. So that I don't repeat myself, I will get the usual highlights out of the way: chai, chai, chai, bonding with the locals, nap, food, chai.

Now, for the special Udaipur highlights...drummmmmmmmm rollllllllll please.

We spent the better part of a day in a hookah bar and cafe reading magazines, listening to Indian music, and getting music lessons from the owner.



We had dinner at the Lake Palace Hotel, in the middle of Lake Pichola. FYI - the James Bond film, Octopussy, was filmed at this palace. This entire town is covered in the fact that Octopussy was filmed here, but noone can tell you which actor played James Bond. I had to use the Google machine to find out it was Roger Moore. What an experience! We caught the sunset on the water, had our first glasses of Indian wine, and I had my hundredth moment of "I am one lucky lady".





Udaipur is a city full of romance, and even though we are three girls traveling together, we definitely picked up on the vibe. Love is in the air! Honeymooners strolled on bridges, newlyweds made out in front of us and ruined our sunset ;), and every cafe has cushions and aphrodisiacs to put you in the mood.

The City Palace on the top of the hill in Old City is really one of the most beautiful buildings I have set foot inside. And believe me, I have traveled a good amount and seen my fair share of palaces, museums, and churches. City Palace is mesmerizing. Apparently, many wealthy Indian families rent out the courtyard for their weddings...SWOON.

Monsoon Palace sits on the top of a hill and offered the most memorable sunset of my life. We were taxied up to the top and got to spend two hours just watching the sun go down...THIS IS THE LIFE.



Udaipur is really a city you experience rather than see. I feel like we have done so much in two days, but when I think back, most of it was eating, drinking, and relaxing. Tomorrow we are off to Mt. Abu for a full day of hiking to burn off the milkshakes we've been downing.

"O look more monkeys!"

This post is dedicated to my dear Torontonian friend, Danielle Bablich. She loves monkeys just as much as I do...

Video in Pushkar:

Move over Angelina Jolie...

So yesterday we hopped on a second class train from Ajmer to Udaipur. The total trip was estimated to take about five hours. I have to admit that when we boarded the train and I found myself sitting on a bench with four other people, I was not amused. First of all, the second class non air-conditioned trains are like cattle cars for people. Second of all, there were no meals on this one. And lastly, the seats did not recline. But, of course the journey turned into an adventure that I will remember forever.

It turns out that half of our train car was one family of about 15 people. It was definitely awkward at first because, per usual, when we sat down people stared at us like we were an endangered species. But, after twenty minutes the entire family adopted us and we were playing with their kids as if we have known them for years. There was one man in our car that wasn't related to anyone, but we brought him into the family. We called him "professor" because he wore glasses and was a physics teacher. Halfway through the trip, people from other cars were coming over to watch how much fun we all were having together. The kids were listening to our iPods and teaching themselves English with our dictionaries. The Professor was reading our Lonely Planet guide. The adults were feeding us biscuits and chai and laughing at the pictures we were taking of their children.

Move over Angelina Jolie...

Pushkar - The Life of Leisure

Where do I begin?

Pushkar has been a heavenly retreat, especially after spending two hours in the Jaipur bus station. I will not elaborate. Our very first bus journey in India was a great success, as we were offered scenic views of the Indian countryside.

How do I describe our arrival to Pushkar? Imagine a crowded roulette table with dozens of people yelling in your face, advising you where to place your bets. Now, imagine three tired, sweaty, sassy girls stepping off of a non air-conditioned bus and walking into that mess. Finally, replace the roulette table with brochures and business cards for hotels and hostels, and you have entered our world. "Excuse me madam! You want lakeside hotel?" or "Take my card! Take my card!". At one point, I think Maire was actually lifted off the ground. We ran to an auto rickshaw and pointed to the hostel of our choice on a map, only to be pursued by said businessmen on motor scooters. They followed us all the way into our hostel until we had signed for a room, then they scampered away in defeat. We made the right choice! Our room overlooks the center of Pushkar and sits right on the infamous lake.



The story of Pushkar goes somewhat like this: The great god Brahma descended to earth and supposedly dropped a lotus flower from which Pushkar was formed. Another one of our local friends also told us a story about Brahma fighting a crocodile, which explains why now crocs no longer exist in the lake, but my face was probably stuffed in a chai tea or bowl of rice, so I don't remember the details...sorry folks. Pushkar is a magical little town. We learned from the locals that all the buildings in the city are owned by the local priests, and they let merchants use the storefronts for free. This town loves their tourists and tourists love this town! In fact, so many Israelis vacation here every year that many of the Indians of Pushkar also speak some Hebrew. They say the boys learned the language so they could speak to Israeli women...I don't doubt this speculation. The main bizarre here stretches for almost two miles and is a shopper's dream. Colorful scarves, skirts, shirts, saris, jewelry, bags, art, and textiles stretch as far as the eye can see. In every shop you can see tourists bargaining and joking with the locals and EVERYTHING is dirt cheap. One day, I stopped for a few minutes to watch a woman crouched on the side of the road painting a beautiful scene of Brahma visiting Pushkar on a silk canvas. I meandered over to her cart of finished works and my jaw about fell open when she told me her paintings were $7. (I bought two). Cafes and coffee houses line the narrow roads, beckoning tourists with advertisements for Mexican and Italian food. Rooftop hideaways can be found around every corner and every single person in this town has a smile on his or her face at all times of the day. I think between dawn and midnight every day I answer a greeting with, "namaste!" or "hello!" at least 150 times. Everyone here wants their own special greeting; it's actually very charming if you have the right mindset.




As I sit here on the rooftop of our hostel and write this, I am staring out at a stone white town at the bottom of small mountainous hills, surrounding Brahma's lake. I am watching families and groups of school children visit the great bathing ghaats all around the lake to be washed in the holy water. I can hear music and chants from the temples next door, which beckon pilgrims to pay their respects to Brahma and donate to the town of Pushkar. I smell chai and lassi brewing from the vendors' stalls below. I see tourists and travelers interacting with Indians. Missy and I are debating the hierarchy of animals as we watch pigeons, cows, and goats get overrun by stray dogs claiming ownership of the main square; while monkeys stake their claim in the sky. I got so close to a monkey today that I almost muttered an "Oh hey theres...excuse me" to go around him. I am mesmerized and fascinated by how they prance around this town like they are people. Pushkar is picturesque. The perfect getaway.



How have we spent our time here? Window shopping, getting lost on walks in the countryside, having snacks and chai with the locals and other travelers, spending late evenings on the steps adjacent to the lake, napping, a bit of yoga, and best of all riding around on a motorbike. Oh, and getting coerced by fake priests to give money to their "charities", and in return we had our families and friends blessed with the holy water of the lake. I only wasted $8 on my family, but it's the thought that counts! A definite Pushkar highlight was our 5:30am hike up to the "temple on the hill" just in time to catch the sun rising. We sat for an hour and just took in the sight of the town from a distance, while soothing music blared from the temple, and a school of monkeys danced and played around us. It was one of those moments where you find yourself thinking: "How lucky am I?"



Today, Missy and I hopped on the back of a motorbike and got to see "the real Pushkar". We went to the outskirts of town and drove through a National Park to see hundreds of monkeys, peacocks, and other wildlife. We caught the sunset on the way home on the back of the bike. We stopped for chai with some of the locals in the middle of a monkey retreat. I mean, I am pretty sure we are doing this trip right :)

Pushkar is a gem of a place. A village to get away from it all. And a town...according to our local friends...with "good good karma and balance!"

Tomorrow we are off to Udaipur, one of my most anticipated stops on this journey. Expect big things :)

Jaipur - It's Pink

The visit to Jaipur started the way most of our arrivals to new cities begin; with an auto rickshaw driver telling us that he is our friend and can show us anything we want for only Rs 400 a day. This time his name was Sonu and he kept proclaiming that most Indians see white skin and think "money", but he sees white skin and thinks "friendship". He even whipped out a binder full of letters and notes people have written him from all over the world, and made me read them all. After much debate, we let Sonu drive us to get coffee at an Indian coffee house the next morning. He treated, which was very generous, but since we declined his city tour, he now ignores us when he sees us. Interesting.

We are staying at a quiet little guest house with a sweet Indian family. The walls of the guest house are covered in reviews and thank you notes from other travelers. This family has been able to create a serene environment in a city of chaos. Jaipur is what I have come to call "souvenir city". There are miles of pink clay buildings and outdoor bizarres selling anything from scarves to lawnmowers. The sun setting on the pink clay is what gives Jaipur it's nickname, "The Pink City". You should be mentally prepared for battle before you enter this section of Jaipur...seriously. We bought a few trinkets, stopped by a local fruit stand, and then set off to find a quiet place. We found it...at a jewelry emporium. The bouncer had to enter a code in a fancy security system to let us in. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked like a mix between the Lochness Monster and Tarzan. Gypsy or not, they still recognized the sparkle in my eye as a weakness for ancient jewelry. There was an entire level dedicated to traditional 18 carat gold Indian jewelry and gems. After one hour in the store and a small swipe of the credit card, Maire and Missy dragged me out of the store.

What is the best activity to partake in after a little retail therapy? A visit to an ancient Fort...clearly. Again, we were the only ones at this tourist attraction, which is beginning to become a trend that I appreciate. We ran around the fort like little kids following stray dogs, wild boars, and monkeys. How many times in my life am I going to be able to run wild in a castle looking structure? Not many...we took advantage. A beautiful full moon followed us around that evening, and had the thousands of stray dogs in Jaipur howling like wolves. As a group, we decided that this fort was the greatest structure we have seen in India and that we would visit it again the following day when it was light out.



After another wild rickshaw ride home, Maire wasn't feeling well, so Missy and I ended our evening with dinner and ice cream at the local mall food court. Don't judge us.

Day two in Jaipur was the most blissful day of the trip so far. Maire was stuck in bed the entire day, so I feel guilty making such a statement, but it's true. Missy and I were flagged down by the greatest auto rickshaw driver to exist in India. The man has 23 grandchildren and a wise sense of humor. He made several pit stops throughout the day out of the goodness of his heart because he believed them necessary if we were really going to see Jaipur. Our first stop was an abandoned Hindu Temple that looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. I kept stepping over bricks and tiles that looked like they could secretly be trap doors. Afterward, he drove us back to the Fort so we could do the famous climb to the top. This excursion was by far the most difficult climb I have ever done, but the top boasted the most beautiful views in Jaipur. All around us was a panorama of greenery, small villages, ancient temples, and the fort walls. At least 10 times Missy claimed, "This is soooo amazing!". Hours went by before we descended the steps to grab chai with some of the local villagers. During our chai break, our driver decided to tell us that he was worried about us climbing the stairs because there were tigers and panthers at the top that have attacked tourists in the past...ummmm such information could have been much more helpful before such an adventure.





Our final stop in Jaipur was at a local textile factory where we were able to watch men making rugs and stamping fabrics. We were led into a room to watch a demonstration of the different classes of fabrics "for look only". Yeah right. Three hours and five cups of chai tea later, Missy and I walked out of that place with our hands full. The fabrics of India are indescribably beautiful and I found the entire ordeal positively overwhelming. At one point Missy had to pull me aside and say "Alysa...breathe...you don't have to get all your souvenirs here...we have ten more weeks". We drove home with stomachs full of chai, the backseat full of gifts, and big smiles on our faces.

"The Taj"

We decided to forgo standard backpacking behavior by renting a private taxi to take us from Delhi to Agra, stopping at several Hindu temples along the way. The 100+ temples in this region vary in appearance and aura, but they all accomplish one incredible mission: honoring the Hindu gods. About 80% of the population here in India are Hindus, and as I stated in earlier posts, Indians love to have babies. Therefore, there are A LOT of Hindus in India leading to a need for a plethora of temples, statues, and other structures to allow these devotees to properly honor Brahman, Krishna, and all the others (I'm still learning).

I have realized something about myself by being on this trip: Acts of extreme spirituality make me uncomfortable. But, what's three months in India without being thrown outside your comfort zone? These devotees chant, beat drums, dance in circles, walk in lines praying, and others just stare into space in complete concentration. What was surprising was the diversity of the devotees at some of the temples. It seems that Hindus from all over the world travel to India to dedicate months of their lives to honoring the gods and strengthening their spirituality.



After six hours on the open road, we made it to Agra, the town that boasts claim to the Taj Mahal. Also, I would like to take this opportunity to state that I will be referring to the Taj Mahal simply as "The Taj" for the remainder of this post. Simply put and for lack of a better explanation, it sounds cooler. Now, when you visit one of the most coveted tourist attractions in the world, you get everything that comes along with it. It seems that almost everyone in Agra has dedicated their lives to "helping" tourists. We were propositioned with every sort of souvenir possible: Taj Mahal key chains, tshirts, snow globes, postcards, necklaces, you name it. The hagglers were relentless, but we prevailed and came out empty handed.

Our first day in Agra was spent moseying around town, taking pictures, sipping chai with the locals at a street stall, and lastly by taking in various views of the Taj Mahal from rooftop restaurants. The town of Agra is cozy, communal, and very traveler friendly. It seems that every cafe advertised the fact that they were once featured in Lonely Planet (they are on to us). The children of Agra are very clever and have figured out that travelers have a hard time saying "no" to happy kids. Children of all ages literally swarmed us demanding that we take their pictures. Of course we would because afterward they would shriek with excitement when they could see the digital image of themselves. We willingly took part in this charade until we had a parade of children following us around, so we had to break hearts and put our cameras away.





On our second day in Agra, we were up and out the door by 5:45am in order to catch the sunrise at "The Taj". When I say we were just about the only people present at this magnificent temple for an hour, I am not lying. The morning was blue, the sun was out, the gardens were groomed...it was majestic. Between Maire, Missy, and I, we took about 500 pictures, but not a single one of them represents a replica of this structure. You have to stand before it to really digest it. I spent about an hour just perusing through the gardens, snapping photos, listening to music on the ole iPod, and contemplating life. The story behind "the Taj" is pretty predictable. Mr. Mahal wanted to build the most impressive temple, to date, as a memorial for his wife when she died. Mission accomplished. We did learn, however, that the poor architect had his right hand chopped off by Mr. Mahal upon completion of the temple, so that he could never build anything as beautiful again. Another sign of a male ego gone awry in Ancient India...not shocking. In summary, I pledge my allegiance to the masses in the opinion that if you ever visit India, the Taj Mahal is a must see.



Also, Missy, for the second time in less than two weeks, was pooped on by a bird, at "the Taj". I mean, how many people can say that? Way to go Miss!

We arrived last night in Jaipur, thus begins our trek around the state of Rajasthan. The motto in this state is "guests are god". Sign me up!

We are Safe!

You may have heard about the shooting in New Delhi earlier yesterday morning. We are very sad about the event as two innocent tourists from Taiwan who were in town to shoot a documentary were seriously injured. We are staying in a remote area of Delhi and are getting the HELL out of this town at 6am tomorrow morning, so not to worry! Missy's friend, Maire, who is Irish, but lives in London has joined our party and will be with us until October 9! We are so excited to have her and I am sure her sarcastic manner and contagious laugh will add nothing but love to our trip. Missy and Maire volunteered together in Kenya 2.5 years ago, and are just now reuniting for the first time...it's a beautiful thing. We have spent this entire day in our hotel restaurant planning our trip, eating bread, drinking beers, and playing cards. Tomorrow we see the Taj Mahal!

Thanks for the emails everyone, but rest assured, we have made friends with the hotel staff and are having fun cooped up in our hostel :)

Observation Break:

Over the course of the week, I have made several observations I would like to "jot down" for memory:

- Many of the mannequins in stores here are from the 80s and mostly have Caucasian faces


- Traffic jams are more like traffic jamborees. The roads here are shared by cars, auto rickshaws, bicycle rickshaws, bikes, horses, camels, cows (they roam free), scooters, and pedestrians.

- Vehicle Safety is not an issue. Several times now I have observed entire families on the back of a scooter, with an infant child hanging loosely from his or her mother's lap. And to think we strap children in car seats facing backwards until they are ten in the US...

- People in India love their jobs. No matter what they do or where they do it, they are thankful for work. Makes you think...

Short Stories from a stay in Amritsar

The Golden Temple in Amritsar is the most spiritual and profound place I have ever visited. Indian pilgrims from all over the country flock to the temple every day to eat, pray, and sleep as a community within it's walls. I was completely taken with the entire scene and emotionally stirred on more than one occasion. But, I promised not to get all "Eat. Pray. Love." on this blog, so I will refrain from trying to describe the surreal beauty of the largest Sikh temple in the world.


Below are some of my favorite memories from the last few days:

1) Is that hole the bathroom?

The above question was asked by poor Missy to me upon arrival to our hostel in Amritsar. Please keep in mind that we had just taken a six hour train ride from Delhi and then a 20 minute bus ride to our "donation only" lodging right across from the Golden Temple. In other words, we seriously had to pee. So being the good friend that I am, I inquired as to where the "washroom" was located and was pointed to a door in the corner. I went in, but all I saw was a sink, a faucet attached to a wall, and a small hole in the floor. So naturally, being the adventurer that I am, I took a deep breathe, shrugged, and tried something new. I advised Missy to do the same, which she did. Immediately upon completion, we exited our hostel to see a large sign for the BATHROOMS. WOOPS.

2) Rishbah and his rickshaw

In India, a good number of men make a living by driving a rickshaw, which is basically a bicycle with a seat in the back. I have seen families of six pile into these things and it breaks my heart to watch the tired men pull them along. Missy and I vowed heavily not to take any bicycle rickshaws during our time here. That was until we met Rishbah. This man portrays more warmth and vigor than any person I have ever met. One evening, we were lost on our way to find a fried fish restaurant recommended in our 2007 copy of Lonely Planet, when Rishbah stopped to help us. We tried to wave him off, but he said "No; I will help you for free...get in!" We obeyed. He then drove us 15 yards to our destination. We thanked him and went on our way. An hour later, we emerged from the restaurant to find Rishbah waiting for us. "Hellllllo Meeesie and Alisia! How was your fish fry!" After that, the three of us were pretty inseparable. Every day he took us to temples, museums, and for leisurely trips. He acted as our guide for every stop and talked our ears off for hours. Every time he knew a fact about the US that we did not know, he would proclaim with a big smile and a strong accent: "That is because I am VERY intelligent. You should call me Mr. Intelligent!" One day, as he was pulling us along and reciting to us the only lines he knew in Spanish, we hit a big hill. Rishbah did his best, but eventually he turned around and said, "You girls are heavy! We must get off and walk...I am sorry for this...". Missy and I laughed after he asked us how much we weigh and he said, "Meesie, why do you laugh at me?" You can be sure that Rishbah never called us heavy again. He also told us that not only are we his favorite customers, but also his best American friends. We received a promise that if he ever got married, we would have to come to his wedding. You see, Rishbah has been driving his rickshaw in Amritsar every day for the last ten years, for 12-14 hours a day. He is saving money so that he can one day support his own family. When we asked him about his life he would say in his jovial tone: "You see girls, eventhough I am very poor, you can see that I am very happy and good man!" And that he was...



3) Wanna go to Pakistan?

On our second day in Amritsar, we decided to sign up for a "shared cab" that would drive us an hour away to the Pakistani border to watch the daily border closing ceremony. When Missy and I were in Mumbai, an English woman we met in a cafe recommended we attend this event, and when we saw it in our faithful Lonely Planet book, we made it a "must do". When we showed up to our scheduled meeting place at 3pm, we saw a small, rickety van full of teenage boys, with one seat left in the front. Our driver, wearing a stern look and a purple turban, pointed to the empty seat. So, we both climbed in and Missy had to strattle the gear shift, while I stole the window seat. Don't worry, I got a picture. When we arrived at the border, we were separated into lines of men and women, and then Missy and I were further segregated into the VIP line, because, well...we were white. What a fun event! The Indian stadium was packed full of people and for an hour before the ceremony started, hundreds of school children danced to Bollywood music for the crowd. The Indian guards wore serious looking outfits, and walked on stilts so that they were taller than everyone else. The actual ceremony was quite comical. To be honest, it was the most exaggerated display of machoism I have ever seen, but the crowd loved it. Indians of all ages lined up to run with the Indian flag to the Pakistani border and back. Guards strutted around with rifles. One man chanted some sort of "Go India!" chant into the microphone and the crowd went wild. Missy and I were stuck in the boring "white people" section, but we did our best to immerse ourselves in the confusion. The whole ceremony took about an hour, and in the end, the guards from each country shook hands, said goodnight, and lowered the flags for their countries. This event brings over 1,000 people to the Indian border every single day. Now that is patriotism at it's finest.



4) "One Snap!", "One Snap!"

In Amritsar, we stand out. Indians from all over the nation travel to the Golden Temple every single day to pay homage to the Sihk religion. They travel in large packs and most wear their best clothing. I was wearing the same thing I wore the day before: a pair of Old Navy cotton pants, my Toms shoes, and an "I'm trying to fit in" looking tunic. Also, we were 2 of about 15 foreigners amongst thousands of people. The first time we stopped to pose for a picture with a few people, we did not realize that what we were really doing was giving up all of our rights to privacy and inviting the entire population of Amritsar to ask us for pictures. The best part of the entire charade, was that our conversation and presence made people so wholly happy. Everyone wanted to know where we were from, what we did for work, what we thought of India and it's people, what our parents did for a living, and then the inevitable, "please mam, one snap?" At that request, Missy and I would dutifully pose for a snapshot. You would think that Santa had dropped from the sky with a giant bag of presents the way these people beamed when we acknowledged them. One wave to a young child sent them squealing and laughing to their parents. Missy and I are convinced that our picture is the backdrop photo on cell phones across India.



5) Sonia in the park

There is a beautiful monument in Amritsar called Jallianwala Bagh, which is a tribute to the innocent killings of 2,000 Indian people by the British in 1919. Surrounding the monument is a serene park, and what seems like the only quiet place in India. One afternoon, when we were feeling especially tired, we decided to make our way to the park to relax and read. We sat next to a family who seemed to be doing the same. Not five minutes went by before a young girl wearing a beautiful red and green sari sat down with us and struck up a conversation. It turns out, that she was sent over to us by her father to practice her English. After a few minutes her father, mother, and aunt joined her to listen to what we had to say. She asked us dozens of questions ranging from where we were from to what kinds of crops are grown in America. When her parents weren't listening, Sonia told us that she was 18 and wanted to get her MBA. She has barely ever left her hometown of Haryana, but has a strong desire for independence and travel. She could hardly believe that we were 26, unmarried, and traveling India with our own money. Several times she asked us "what would happen if you wanted to marry someone your parents did not approve of?" To that I responded, "uhhhhh what? We would marry them anyway and they would get over it". She could seriously not comprehend this answer. I found myself sitting in awe of this beautiful and humble girl and all the things that she won't get to experience because of a difference in customs. By the time I was 18, I had been to almost ten different countries and was living on my own at college. At the end of the conversation, Sonia and her father invited Missy and I to come visit their home and stay with them as guests. We just might take them up on that...

As you can see from the above stories, both Missy and I are quite taken with India and it's people. So much so, that we have decided to stay in India and Nepal for the entire duration of our trip. We are both ecstatic about the decision and I can't wait to see what else this country has to offer. Asia will have to wait...

For pictures of our travels, follow Missy's blog here: http://heremethere.wordpress.com/

I Call Top Bunk!!!

The last day in Mumbai was spent shopping...I mean...it was inevitable. We bought tunics and dressier pants so that we will fit in when we visit the small towns of Rajastan. We are trying to beef up the image of American girls since half the girls in our hostel were prancing around in tube tops. Honestly, they looked like they got lost on their way to South Jersey (sorry Alicia). After some retail therapy, we set off for Mumbai Central and boarded our sleeper train.

Our car had A/C and they literally fed us every two hours, so we were happy as clams. The American airlines and railways could learn a thing or two from Indian transportation; more meals = happier customers. I ran and claimed the top bunk before Missy could even see the car...naturally. We shared a car with a guy from Brooklyn who was traveling India for five months, but he was extremely pretentious, so we ignored him. Our other car mate, Remi, was a 23 year old girl who does brand marketing for the food and beverage sector of Manchester United. She was on her way to Delhi to oversee the opening of a new retaurant. Her and I gabbed like school girls for hours. Obviously, I started with the most important question: "Are young Indian girls just as obsessed with Twilight and Robert Pattinson?"...Yes; but they are worse. Then we moved on to books, authors, celebrities, and other pop culture topics. It turns out that Bollywood actors wish they were Hollywood actors, but they won't admit it.

After pop culture, I gathered the courage to ask Remi about some more serious topics. We discussed arranged marriages and the US divorce rate. She asked if there were arranged marriages in the US and I said: "Mmmm maybe in West Virginia?" Remi voiced her opinion about female independence and education in India and I have to say that I feel extremely lucky with the amount of choices I have over the direction of my life. Remi, if you are reading this, I hope you enjoyed your time in Delhi :)

Now...on to Delhi. I usually don't judge a book by it's cover, but after spending 5 hours in this city, Missy and I booked a train ticket out. I think we are urban adventured out for the time being. Despite this review, the day was quite comical. We spent 3 of the 5 hours today in a tourist information center booking the next leg of our trip, and the other two hours getting scammed by two rickshaw drivers, Raj and Pali. The two were the best bullshit artists I have come across in a while, but Missy and I pretended to be naive so that they could do their jobs. We even went to lunch with them and treated. Well, they walked out before the bill came. In the tourist information office, we spent the day with Wahid. After we handed him $150, he fed us cups of chai and soda and says he wants to take us to a festival tonight. On first impression, the rumors about Delhi are true. We are no longer young women, we are dollar signs. Tomorrow we go North to Amritsar to see the Golden Temple and to watch the daily border closing ceremony between India and Pakistan. I am sure there are more antics to come, so stay tuned...

Mumbai Mania

I have been sitting here staring at a blank screen for 15 minutes trying to figure out where to begin and how to describe this city. All the rumors are true. The culture shock smacks you like a ton of bricks. There is garbage...everywhere. There are people...everywhere. And YES, riding in a cab brings you closer to God. In fact, I have dubbed Mumbai the city of C's: Curry, crows, cabs, and chaos. Clever...I know. In all honesty, the first 36 hours here were difficult; but after spending five days wandering the streets, I am leaving immensely happy and utterly inspired.

Missy and I are staying in the only hostel in a city of 6 million people, so we all stick out like sore thumbs. The hostel is located at the very Southern tip of Mumbai in Colaba, right outside The Gateway of India, which is really just a big arch where people try to sell you postcards and giant balloons. I mean, who the hell wants to buy an 8 foot long balloon? NOT THIS GIRL. Every morning there are men outside our hostel who work for Bollywood (The film industry), who want foreigners to go work as extras on the movie set for 12 hours. Missy and I discussed the option and decided we will not be participating in any excursions that require us to tweeze our eyebrows. So, we have respectfully declined becoming movie stars four mornings in a row now. Now, on to the highlights:

1) Thali. This is a selection of seven different dishes, rice, bread, and pudding. Everything is refilled until you wave your waiter away. Naturally, I had this at the top of my to do list and Missy and I literally had to hold each other up after our first Thali experience. For the record, a stomach full of Thali and a money belt is not very inconspicuous.

2) Dharavi. The biggest slum in the world is only 1.75 square kilometers large and houses around 1 million people. 20% of people in Dharavi have laptops and Wifi access, and everyone here pays rent or owns their apartment. In fact, many of it's residents own property elsewhere, but choose to stay put. Missy and I took an organized tour through Dharavi with a guide and one other traveler, Uncle Kev. We were hesitant about doing the tour since neither of us wanted to exploit this way of life, but 80% of profits get reinvested into the community and it was highly recommended, so we booked it, for $8. Uncle Kev is a travel journalist for Lonely Planet and was in Mumbai to update the current guide. He received his nickname because a young girl in Dharavi asked if he was our uncle. This was an epic moment for us. He has been to over 76 countries and entertained us with stories throughout the tour. Our guide, Ganesh, is a local who lived in a slum for a year and now gives tours every single day. The four of us made quite a team and the hours spent on this tour were some of the most profound of my life. Dharavi boasts revenues of over 660 million a year. There is business EVERYWHERE in this small community and we were able to experience the day to day life of workers. Many of them are paid an equivalent of about $3 a day and many are exposed to toxic fumes. We saw piles of goat skins, stacks of sheep leather, and a bakery below ground. We caught whiffs of air that was barely breathable at times. We walked down alleyways that could fit one person from wall to wall, which housed hundreds of people. Most of all, we experienced a sense of community that cannot be replicated and a network of people who left a stamp on my heart. Ganesh introduced us to many of his friends who welcomed us with open arms. People were yelling greetings at us from all angles. School children followed us everywhere we went as they played cricket and paddle ball in the street. Women and men carried up to 50 pounds of materials in a basket on their heads. A group of young boys held a dance party in the street next to the biggest stereo I have ever seen. A Great Dane dragged a small man across the street. Dharavi is a community filled with love, hope, and unity.

3) Alaska. A 12 year old boy who told me his name was Alaska started following me one day and eventually started a conversation. After two minutes, I said: "Alaska, what are you trying to sell?" He replied: "I'm selling hash...you want?" After I told him this trip was drug free, he tried to sell me a map of the city. I told him I already had a map and he said, "But not my map!" This boy has a bright future.

4) Dabangg. This is the name of the Bollywood movie Missy and I spent $2 on and saw in Hindi...without subtitles. For three hours we watched a Brad Pitt looking Indian actor beat people up and lust over a woman. He received shrieks and cheers from the audience the first time he appeared on screen. The actresses solicited whistles from the crowd when they made an appearance. People talked throughout the entire movie and one couple got in a domestic fight that ended in a police breakup. In other words, the movies here are quite different than in North America.

5) Cabs and jaywalking. I don't know how to explain the experience of riding in a cab here, but I understand from fellow travelers that it is worse in Delhi. I don't know how this could be possible. Countless times I have grabbed Missy's arm or gasped in preparation of running someone over. You could literally arm wrestle with the person sitting in the cab next to you. Lines on the road are more of a suggestion than anything, and when there are pedestrians in the street, cabs seem to speed up. I have been close to death several times while playing in traffic.

6) Getting lost is the new itinerary. Missy and I have made some of our best discoveries while getting lost. For example, one day after leaving a tourist attraction, we took a wrong turn and stumbled upon the village of Banganga Tank. Walking around this village felt like being on a movie set. The tank is a large watering hole in the middle of an ancient village where people go to bathe, swim, and do laundry. We were lucky enough to see a human pyramid made of 6 people, and small kids doing handstands in the water in 10 pounds of clothing.

7) Missy got pooped on...third Day...by a pigeon...in the middle of Chor Bizarre, one of the most hectic places in Mumbai. Sorry mom, but we threw out your pink handkerchief.

8) Train Station. OH MY GOD. The Indian Railway employs the most people in the entire world...but none of them are in a hurry to get you anywhere. Also, to purchase a ticket online is almost impossible and I came close to tears just trying to navigate from the homepage. Luckily, there is a counter for "Internationals" at most large stations so we were able to cut the lines of 150 people and sit with other "non-locals" to wait our turn.

9) FOOOOOOOOOOOOOD. I have become a self-proclaimed FAT ASS in Mumbai. Tandoori, samosas, chicken masala, vegetable masala, biryani, dosas, idli, YOU NAME IT AND I HAVE HAD IT. I realize I have only been here five days, but keep your judgements to yourself. The best part of the experience is that you receive endless supplies of chapati (bread covered in butter) to literally mop up your food. Oh...and I have picked up a fistful of rice (with my hand), mixed it with a liquid sauce (also with my hand) and then shlopped the mixture into my mouth (WITH MY HAND). It's beautiful.

Tomorrow, Missy and I take the sleeper train to Delhi. Loving India!

Goodbye Retirement...Hello Jesus sandals

I have spent the last three weeks in retirement. I moved from Toronto, where I was living and working and I have been sleeping until 10am, running meaningless errands, and spending my evenings visiting with friends and family. I have gained roughly six pounds in less than a month and spent time in Washington DC, Costa Rica, Virginia Beach, and Annapolis, MD. Tomorrow I shed my retirement skin as my friend Missy and I leave for an "extended vacation". We will spend the entirety of September 10, 2010 in the air. I hope nothing too exciting happens on earth.

When I explain to people that I have decided to spend the rest of 2010 traveling, I am greeted with mixed responses. Some are truly elated at the prospect; others are indifferent, but feign enthusiasm with something along the lines of: "OMG THAT IS SO AMAZING!!!"; and most just chalk the idea up to the assumption that I am undergoing some sort of quarter life crisis. My favorite reaction is: "ohhhhhhh...like Eat. Pray. Love!" Not exactly.

We start our tour in Northern India and will eventually "loop around" Southeast Asia, ending in Southern India. I know that doesn't offer much, but we are blind to how this adventure will unfold ourselves. All I know is I have a bulging backpack, a pair of sandals that look like they could be worn by one of the 12 apostles, one of my best friends by my side, and an itch to eat some spicy noodles.

Missy and I met during our undergrad years at Virginia Tech. She was the cool, calm, and collected stylish California girl and I was the loud, blunt one wearing American Eagle, who drove South 3.5 hours to attend college. We ran in some of the same circles for four years and developed a friendship based on trust, compatibility, and beer. It wasn't until we spent five months as roommates in New York City that we became "the kind of friends who could travel together". She is artistic and kind, and will offer a perspective on this trip that I might have overlooked otherwise. Plus, her camera is WAY more advanced than mine, so I'll make sure to take credibility for some of her photos.

All in all, I am keeping this blog to document my travels. I am not trying to "find myself". I will not come home with a Chinese character tattoo. And I will by no means refrain from judgement these next few months. Let's be serious. Enjoy :)