The Same Country?

Even before I got off the train, I started noticing differences between South Indians (SIs) and Gujaratis. I'm sure the list will grow as I spend more time here, but here's a preliminary list:

1. Skin color. SIs are known for their darker skin for a reason. Because it is in fact darker!

2. Facial features. SIs have much harsher features, with thinner faces and highly pronounced cheekbones. Men also tend to wear the same, bushy moustache. Gujaratis have more rounded faces, and it isn't necessary to have the moustache (thankfully!).

3. Vada. Yes, vada, or vadai. In the South, they are big and look like donuts. In Hyderabad, people tried to sell these on the train. Once we entered Gujarat, the vada became small and round, like donut holes.

4. Language. Gujus don't really speak all that much English, and it's barely written anywhere. However, on the plus side, I can read about half of all Gujarati, and I can understand some.

5. Temple Priorities. I just happened to arrive into Gujarat on Shivratri, one of the holiest days for Shaivites. I noticed one key difference in priorities in both my temple experiences. In the South, it's ALL about getting a kum kum (or tikka), you know, the mark on your forehead. People rush all around for a chance at the red, yellow, or ash that soon marks their forehead, neck, and hair part. Here, it's all about the prasad, the food blessed by the god. In the South, you'd typically have to pay for the prasad; here, it's free. Neither of the temples I've visited have even had kanku or kum kum available. Amazing.

That's It...

The moment I left Secunderabad for Ahmedabad, I said farewell to the South and thus to the traveling portion of this trip. This last leg is strictly for family and volunteering. When I return home (scheduled for the middle of April, for Beezer and P-Dawg's wedding), I'll put together a quick and easy photo tour of the South. For now, you'll just have to settle for a recap of my journey (which won't include Mumbai or Ahmedabad, since they aren't technically in the South):

Bijapur, Karnataka: Gol Gumbaz, Adil Shahi Sultanate
Badami, Karnataka: Forts and Cave Temples, Chalukya Empire
Pattada Kalla, Karnataka: Early experimentation in South Indian temple architecture, Chalukya
Hampi, Karnataka: Ruined capital and tourist hangout, Vijayanagar Empire
Bangalore, Karnataka: Family and a bit of IT
Mysore, Karnataka: Palace and market, Wadiyar (or Wodeyar) Kingdom
Somnathpur, Karnataka: Keshava Temple, Hoysala Empire
Chennai, Tamil Nadu: Vishal and Nisha's Wedding
Pondicherry, Tamil Nadu: Sri Aurobindo Ashram and Auroville
Mamallapuram, Tamil Nadu: Pallava Temples, Dance Festival, and New Year
Thiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu: Arunachaleswara Temple, Sri Ramakrishna Maharishi Ashram
Thiruchchirappalli (Trichy), Tamil Nadu: Sri Ramanathaswamy Temple
Thanjavur, Tamil Nadu: Sri Brihadiswara Temple and Nayak Palace
Madurai, Tamil Nadu: Sri Meenakshi Temple
Kodaikanal, Tamil Nadu: Hill Station and Pongal Celebrations
Kanniyakumari, Tamil Nadu: Land's End and Swami Vivekananda Mandapam
Trivandrum, Kerala: Ummm...Strikes, Pointless Sights, and Parvathy...the Manipulator
Varkala, Kerala: Beach, tourist hangout, and Kathakali
The Backwaters (Alleppey), Kerala: Canoeing and Houseboating
Kochi (Fort Cochin), Kerala: Jew Town and Chinese Fishing Nets
Munnar, Kerala: Tea Plantation, Leonardo Dicaprio's Movie Set, and Eravikulam NP
The Wayanad (Kalpetta), Kerala: Pookote Lake and Edakkal Caves
Mysore, Karnataka: Chamundi Hill and St. Philomena's Cathedral
Brindavan, Karnataka: Krishnaraja Sagar and the Gardens
Shravanabelagola, Karnataka: Bahubali and Mahamastakabhisheka
Melkote, Karnataka: Hoysala Chaluvanarayana Temple and Yoganarasimha Temple
Srirangapatna, Karnataka: Dariya Daulat Bagh and Gumbaz, Tipu Sultan's Mysore Empire
Halebeedu, Karnataka: Hoysaleswara Temple, Hoysala Empire
Belur, Karnataka: Channakeshava Temple, Hoysala Empire
Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh: Charminar and Golkonda Fort, Qutb Shahi Sultanate

There you have it. I saw lots. And now it's time for a break...

Ifran: All Hormones, All The Time

There are three Indian youths thus far I will always remember: 1) Karan, from Hampi, who saw through my I'm-Indian-but-I-don't-speak-Hindi ruse and tried to convince me to go with him to the movies; 2) Parvathy, from Trivandrum, who whined and pouted to manipulate me to do things and buy stuff for her; and 3) Ifran, from Hyderabad, for, well, being a kid only interested in sex.

I first met him at a magazine stand with my friend Frank. I didn't think much of him then, but when I passed by the stand the next day, I found out more than I wanted to know. He wanted to know where my friend was...Frank had left for Secunderabad and wasn't coming back. Okay, well, "then do you want a dirty magazine?" Of course, he wanted to sell me porn, which to him was similar to a Maxim or a Cosmo. When he realized that I was American, all on his mind was the women and the openness of sex. He was convinced that Americans were doing it anywhere, everywhere, and at any moment. He asked many truly invasive questions, and seemed fascinated (perhaps a little too fascinated...) at my answers. He even found the fact that men and women sleep in the same bed without being married to be something amazing. But, of course, that wasn't even the start of what he wanted to know. He asked about every dirty thing possible. Hell, if I could blush, I would have. Oh, and Ifran was a 17 year old Muslim boy. And sex was the only thing on his mind.

The next day, I ran into him again, and this time, he had a different goal. He didn't want to sell me porn. No, he actually wanted to experience it. He told me to wait for ten minutes, then we'd go trolling for a woman. This kid had so much confidence that we'd find a luscious woman to, get this, both "have." The kid went from porn-seller to pimp. I, of course, passed on his odd offer. And I still couldn't believe he was 17...and apparently a fairly devout Muslim (though not enough to dress like one...hence the picture above). Still, knowing him gave me a good deal of amusement.

Karan...leech. Parvathy...manipulator. Ifran...hormonal.

Hyderabad: Islam Islam Everywhere, Even In My...

Hyderabad was a short (meaning long) train ride away from Bangalore, which was a short (meaning not too bad) ride from Hassan. As I was heading to Hyderabad the Sunday after the big (meaning 2.5 million attendees) Art of Living Celebration in Bangalore, those people stuck in my berth either attended the festival or wanted to know more about it. The conversation never changed...my music was the only escape from an Art of Living praise-a-thon that lasted about 20 hours. Sheesh. Still, as we approached Hyderabad and its sister-city, Secunderabad, something amazing caught my eyes that told me we weren't in the deep south anymore. All the railway station signs weren't only written in Telagu and English. They also had Hindi and...gasp...Urdu as well. Heading further north (ie the Hindi) and into Muslim territory (ie the Urdu). This brought a great smile to my face.

I liked my hotel. In the Abids area, and thus between the Charminar and the Birla Mandir, as well as near a mall, the hotel gave me a double room with a TV, Western toilet, and hot shower. And I didn't have to pay over my budget! It was really nice. As soon as I settled in, I was out the door and on my way to the Charminar, the key site in Hyderabad. As I was walking the 2 kilometers to get there in the blazing (meaning heatstroke-inducing) sun, a sudden realization came to me. Charminar...char minar...four towers...really? As I crossed the Musi river, which was more like a sludgy trickle than a river, I pondered my realization. There, on the bridge, I saw two of the most amazing buildings ever: the High Court and the Osmania General Hospital, both build in the Indo-Saracenic style also used for the Gaddige tombs in Madikeri. I was awestruck, not only by the architecture, but by the fact that I had literally walked into a Muslim-heavy area. Men were dressed in white kurtas with scullcaps, and women were wearing black burqahs (hijabs) that only revealed their eyes. I wondered how the women didn't die from getting so hot in that sun with the black all over them. This scene was in vast contrast to the Abids area, in which women tended to walk around in jeans and t-shirts. And men, no matter where they were, could easily wear brightly colored shirts. In fact, nothing was weirder than seeing a woman in full burqah walking next to a guy in a bright, sleaveless shirt with shorts. Such gender differences.

Anyway, the Charminar. Actually, first, I went to the Mecca Masjid, a huge mosque that could fit over 10,000 people. The style was quite nice, though a little boy, Salman, leeched onto me during my time there. After the Masjid, I lost Salman by going up the Charminar (which in fact does have four towers) and not paying for his entry. He almost gave me away about being a foreigner, but luckily I understood enough Hindi to get by. After taking in the fairly unimpressive Charminar, I ate a bit of biryani, which Hyderabad is famous for, and then walked to the Salar Jung Museum. The Museum had some interesting pieces, but after walking for so long and the getting little sleep the previous night, I was in no mood for museums. So, I half-assed it. I saw the exhibits without reading anything and without really looking too hard. After, I walked to the High Court and to the Osmania General Hospital (above) before walking back to the Abids area. I used the internet at Reliance WebWorld (in which Vikas was very helpful), grabbed an iced mocha at the attached Java Green, and then went back to my room for the night. I watched TV and ate leftover biryani. A nice end to a nice day.

The next day, I took it slowly. I really had no interest in seeing too much, particularly since I gained an extra day by deciding not to take a daytrip to Nagarjunakonda...a trip that would have required six hours of traveling in one day alone. So, by the middle part of the day, after having a spot of lunch, I headed out in the other direction. While the day before I walked south with the distant Charminar guiding me, this day I ambled north with the Birla Mandir as my landmark of note. Along the way, I passed by two other amazing Indo-Saracenic buildings, the AP (Andhra Pradesh, for you uninformed) State Museum and the Legislative Complex (which also had the biggest Gandhiji statue I've seen thus far). I saw the Birla Planetarium atop a nearby hill, but couldn't figure out how to get there. And I refused to use my Lonely Planet, simply because it is more fun to try and get it on my own. So, I walked a long way around, walked up a random street, and amazingly ended up at the Birla Mandir, which is on another hill. I deposited my camera beneath someone named Frank. Once I entered the Mandir, which is pan-Hindu though dedicated to Sri Venkateswara, I went straight to the altar dedicated to Sidhi Sai Baba (the original Sai Baba), and made a comment to a guy about it being a very hot day..."right Frank?" So, this threw him for a loop, and after I explained how I knew his name, we became fast friends...well, kinda. A Canadian from Gwelf (outside Toronto), he had been traveling for a while, and was a staunch vegetarian. Just as normal, he asked plenty of questions about the Hindu things we saw at that amazing temple. The Mandir had beautifully simple yet complex marble carvings of scenes from the Mahabharata, Ramayana, and Puranas, as well as tributes to all the major gods, Hindu saints, and even the Buddha, Sri Mahavira, and Guru Nanak. We spent lots of time at the relatively small temple. After leaving to try and find the quirky (supposedly) Health Museum, Frank made me try fresh sugar cane juice. While pure liquid glucose may sound good to some, it made my stomach a little uneasy. We then found our way to a now closed museum, and stayed in the nearby park for a couple of hours. I watched some Muslim men and boys play catch with a ball, a game that lasted for at least 1.5 hours. Frank then brought out his hackie sacks and started juggling (above) and doing a little hackie. As the sun started going down, he then turned to stretching and yoga, which garnered some attention. After the sun was gone, we walked back to the Abids and to my hotel, which he was amazingly staying at as well. We then did dinner and then wandered the Abids for a while. We stopped back to Java Green (he hadn't slept much the night before, as he was taking a night train from Hampi), where I once again met Vikas. He told me to come back the next day to burn a CD. After this, we explored the nooks and crannies of Abid Circle, and met a boy named Ifran, who I'll talk about in the next post. Let's just say that he'll be forever memorable. And that was it.

The next day I burned two CDs, a process that took way too long. Vikas did his best, but the power kept going out. I felt bad for Vikas, but he was very patient. By the time we finished, it was too late to do much of anything, so I just went back to my hotel, chatted with some guests for a while, and really did nothing for the rest of the day. Oh, of course, though, I chatted with my friend Ifran. On my last full day in Hyderabad, I went to the famous Golkonda Fort (above). In order to really understand everything, I hired a guide, who showed me a couple of cool things, like the spot where the 360 queens whipped servants who prayed in the queens' particular masjid, or the high court with acoustics so good that even the slightest sound echoed. I came across a group of guys...I saw them everywhere. Where I was, so were they. I took their picture a couple of times, too. Then, after leaving the Fort, I ate lunch at a small restaurant. While there, they showed up...much to all our amusement. I then walked the 1.5 kilometer stretch to the tombs of the Qutb Shahi sultans. The tombs were cool at first, but then got a bit monotonous after a while. I returned back to Abids, met Ifran, had dinner, and then called it a night. The next day, I checked out early, said farewell to Ifran, went to Secunderabad, and caught my long (meaning way too long) train to Ahmedabad.

More observations about India

Here are some more thoughts I have about things I've seen:

1. India did another thing right. While typically you don't really need hot water in most of India, sometimes it just feels nice to have a hot shower. In America, we have water heaters, that keep water consistently hot and therefore waste losts of energy. In India, places with hot water showers use geysers (pronounced geezers), which you switch on when you want hot water. Once you wait for the water to heat up, then you use the water, you switch off the geyser. This saves lots of energy.

2. What the hell is up with the Sauna Belts? Every late-night or mid-day paid-advertising program is selling some type of Sauna Belt, which just melts away the fat by concentrating heat on your trouble areas. Are people really that lazy in India? And why, why, why the Sauna Belt? I've counted about six different varieties being sold. Luckily, there's also the "Ab King Pro," which requires a little exercise. But the Sauna Belt is really the king.

3. What's up with bookshops here? Typically, they mainly sell diaries and stationary. Sometimes, when they have English books, they are only about computers or engineering. Sheesh!

4. We have a day of celebration for MLK. Most cities have MLK streets. And yet nothing comes close to the power of Mahatma Gandhi here. While in America, most MLK streets are rundown and house the poorer populations, in India, MG Roads tend to be posher. Also, almost every city no matter how large, has a statue and a square or circle devoted to Gandhi. Nehru doesn't even come close. No one is as beloved anywhere as Gandhiji.

5. Something random...seeing two people do sign language is one of the most beautiful sights in the world. I saw two friends signing to each other yesterday in a Hyderabadi park; one was definitely deaf, the other wasn't...and it was beautiful.

Yet another picture site!

So, the second Yahoo Groups site is full. To see pics of the amazing temples at Belur and Halebeedu, including all those after, please join the third site at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/sapans_india_trip_3/. Thanks.

Halebeedu and Belur: The Allure of the Hoysalas

After Madikeri, I based myself in Hassan in order to visit the towns of Halebeedu and Belur, which both have magnificent Hoysala Temples. These, coupled with the Keshava Temple in Somnathpur, define super-uber-anal-artistry in the South. Sure, other people went for big. These folks went for intricacy. I spent the morning in Halebeedu, and the afternoon in Belur. Halebeedu has the Hoysaleswara Temple, which is large, with two chambers dedicated to Shiva, and with two smaller mandapams each with a large Nandi. The sheer magnitude of the carvings on the outside astound, but you are quick to notice that the temple was never finished. Plans were made, but never carried through. I also visited two other compounds in Halebeedu: the Kedareswara Temple, smaller and with no one there but a sleeping dog; the Jain basadis, three separate temples dedicated to Parswanath, Adinath, and Shantinath. Belur was quite close, only a half-hour mini-bus ride away. The Channakeshava Temple seems typical, with a large gopuram greeting you, and with many smaller temples scattered here and there in the temple grounds. The main temple is the only of the three main Hoysala sites actually in use, but it's still not quite finished. While unimpressive nearer to its base, larger and more beautiful sculptures and lintels line the upper sections. It's also quite magnificent. There, I also met a British woman from Nottingham (of Robin Hood fame) who had been getting lots of attention, especially from nosy and inappropriate Indian men. I was near here when I stepped onto the burning hot black marble and yelped out. She recognized my lack of accent, and we hit it off. She had lots of questions about Jainism, and so I misled her the best I could. We had dinner together back in Hassan, and we went our separate ways the next day.

Belur...Halebeedu...Somnathpur. Site for the Channakeshava...Hoysaleswara...Keshava Temples. Together, they make up THE finest temple work I've seen in South India, and I've seen lots of temples. So, the million dollar, or das lakh, question is...which temple is superior? The first has size on its side, and the upper work stands out as far superior. The second one has just an amazing amount of work, and the setting is really quite nice. The third is the smallest and most difficult (ie. pain-in-the-ass-est) to get to, and it's the only one that charges money for entry...and it's the winner. The Keshava Temple in Somnathpur is one-of-a-kind for a few reasons. First, it's the only finished temple. Second, it doesn't have the bother of actually being a functioning temple. Third, the fact that you have to pay to enter means that it's impeccably maintained. Fourth, the carvings on it rival both the other two sites. Fifth, the lack of people means that the site is actually peaceful. Sure, the fact that it was the first site I visited means that it was a novelty with which I compared the other two...but despite the expense and difficulty of getting there, there's no denying Somnathpur's superiority.

Next: Hyderabad...technology meets burqahs meets Indo-Saracenic architecture meets a Buddha statue.

Madikeri: Visiting the Coorg Without Seeing It

My time in Madikeri, a 3.5 hour ride from Mysore, was mostly a waste. I went a day late, mostly because I was sick and also wanted to hang with my friends in Mysore. Well, this helped to defeat me. A person goes to Madikeri to trek in the Coorg (or Kodagu) region of Karnataka. I wasn't there long enough to do that. I arrived in the evening and found a cheap hotel. The next day, I went wandering throughout the city like I normally do. I ended up at the Sri Omkareswara Temple, which amazingly blended Islamic and Hindu themes and architecture together. Something I loved was that Mosques and Temples were EVERYWHERE, though the population was predominantly Muslim. Then, after looking here and there, I once again wound up somewhere unexpected, the Madikeri (or Mercara) Fort. The ramparts had nice views of the city and the surrounds. In the distance, I spotted Gaddige, the Raja's Tombs, and started on a trek to find them. I ended up at a travel agency chatting with a local named Vinod for a couple of hours. Actually, he did all the talking. He expressed interest in starting an NGO dealing with HIV/AIDS, and whenever I tried to tell him that I knew someone I could connect him to, he never let me even start. Sheesh. Still, he was a very nice guy, kept calling me his new American friend, and bought me chai. Eventually, it was getting so late, I had to get going. I finally made it to Gaddige, and had a good time watching local boys hang out and play soccer. By this point, it was getting too late in the day to head over Raja's Seat, which was supposed to have amazing views of the Coorg valleys. Oh well. And the next day, I had to leave for Hassan, on a bus that supposedly left every half an hour and arrived after only three hours. I got to the bus stand by 1:30...no bus came until 5pm, and the trip took four hours. Damn...

So, most people go to Madikeri to visit places like Raja's Seat, trek over to Abbi Falls, and climb up Pushpagiri. Not me...

Mysore Revisited: More to See and Do

You may remember that I was previously in Mysore, between my trips to Bangalore and Chennai. Last time, I spent three days here, and really didn't do much of anything. I saw the Mysore Palace, the Devaraja Market, and took an expensive daytrip to Somnathpur. I met my friends Ella, Nell, Sam, and Ayesha here as well. Mysore really is an amazing city, with stunning architecture everywhere you look, small alleyways dedicated to wheat or steel or sugarcane, the paradox of a modern world mixed with old ways, and the perfect location in Southern Karnataka. The only drawback is that the air quality is SO poor here, that even walking, I sometimes need to cover my nose and mouth with a handkerchief.

Since I had to pass through here from the Wayanad to Madikeri, I decided to make the most of it. Staying at the popular Parklane Restaurant (yes, in the restaurant) gave me the perfect location between both bus stands. I've been able to explore and really get a sense of Mysore. I could give you directions from anywhere to anywhere in the city.

What I'm going to do is quickly recap what I've done each day I've been here, since each day has brought on a wholly new experience.

Day One. Mysore Darshan. I really didn't see much the last time I was here, so I decided to take in a few of those places I should have visited: Jagan Mohan Palace, Chamundi Hill, and St. Philomena Cathedral (shown above). The Palace has an art gallery with a funky mix of random memorabilia from the Wadiyar empire (which ended in the mid-20th Century) and paintings from all sorts of Indian artists. I easily spent two hours perusing all the different pieces. Then I tromped over to the nearby City Bus Stand and caught the number 201 bus to Chamundi Hill. I arrived there right as the Chamundaswara Temple was just opening for the evening. The darshan line was quite long, so I paid a little something to get through it more quickly. After seeing the temple, my forehead was marked with the beginning of the rainbow, red on the bottom, orange in the middle, and yellow on the top. I descended the 1000-some steps and jumped on a riksha to go straight to the St. Philomena Cathedral in north Mysore (Chamundi Hill was about 2 kilometers south of the city). Of course, I felt very odd about going into such an amazing place with the Hindu markings on my forehead, so I found a place to wash it off. The Cathedral was truly beautiful. After, I walked back to my hotel, grabbed a quick dinner, and then walked here and there, seeing even more of the city's great architecture during the nighttime. The day was relaxing but still quite full.

Day Two. Brindavan Gardens. All my relatives said that I had to go here, so I decided to take their advice. Located on the edge of Krishnaraja Sagar, a dramatic lake formed by a dam, these gardens are the ultimate in floral and fountain landscaping. The flowers and bushes are nice, to be sure, but the fountains steal the show. Before I left on the 303 bus from the City Bus Stand, for which I had to wait more than an hour, I stocked up on picnic-type items. I wanted to enjoy a nice, quiet day at the Gardens. And this involved avoiding a restaurant for dinner. So, I arrived at the Gardens in the late afternoon, took in the scenery, then plopped down for my dinner. Most striking about the day was the sunset over K.R. Sagar. The day ended with the famous lighted fountain show, for which hundreds of Indians flocked to the Gardens. The show was cool at first, with lit fountains (shown above) in great patterns to Bollywood and Bhangra hits. After a while, once I had finished marveling at the sophistication of the fountain system, I got bored quickly. Thankfully, the show only lasted for about fifteen minutes. Then, I boarded one of the many buses back to Mysore. And that was it for that day.

Day Three. Mahamastakabhisheka at Sravanabelagola (try saying that three times fast!). With the town of Sravanabelagola only 2.5 hours away, and with the biggest festival in all of Jainism occurring there, I couldn't not go. So, I left in the late morning on a bus not to the town, but to a neighboring one, from which I caught one of many buses to Sravanabelagola. I was immediately struck by how many people were there, and not just Jains. Thousands of people were there, waiting for an opportunity to climb up Vindhyagiri Hill to see the 17.5 meter tall Sri Gomateswara (Bahubali) being annointed by ghee, milk, honey, and colored powder. I waited and waited under the absolutely brutal sun for the opportunity to walk up the hill at a painfully slow rate (due to all the people). Once I got to the top, after having pushed and shoved my way closer and closer to Bahubali, I barely got a glimpse before being swept away. No time for praying. In order to keep the crowd moving, I had maybe one minute to see Bahubali, in his red and yellow stained glory. Then, we all were shown the way off the side. Many pilgrims, including myself, went to the designated water fountains to wash off the yellow and red powder and dyes covering our faces (see the kids above). This particular path off the hill took us about a kilometer away from our shoes, so I had to walk on the hot cement until I could retrieve my chappals. By this point, the crowd and the sun had taken their toll on me. I jumped on a Mysore-bound bus and called it a day.

Day Four. Melkote. Smitten by the artistry of the Hoysala period that I saw during my trip to Somnathpur, I decided to head to the small village of Melkote. I worried that this place would be just as difficult, and therefore expensive, to get to as Somnathpur, but I didn't care. So, I jumped on a bus that was heading in the right direction, but let me off a little early. Luckily, I caught another bus that took me the rest of the way. Located in a valley in the middle of a desert plateau, Melkote is undoubtedly dramatic. Overlooking the village, which seemed to me to be a smaller version of Badami, was the mesa-top Yoganarasimha Temple. In the middle of the village was a gigantic tank surrounded by ruins of past excellence. Then, on the far end of the village is the Hoysala-built, but really not all the interesting, Chaluvanarayana Temple (it was nothing like the Keshava Temple in Somnathpur). Neither of the temples were all the fascinating, but the views from Yoganarasimha were stunning. The pic above shows Melkote from Vishnu's feet within Yoganarasimha. And I found a great rocky outcrop to sit and chill on for a good hour or so. I found a level of peace I hadn't had for quite some time, and that made the whole trip worth it. I really enjoyed hanging out at the Tank and seeing the families have fun there during their Sunday holiday. In the evening, I caught a bus back the same way, through the other same village. The buses were so crowded, I had to squeeze my way on and off each one. Situations like this reminded me how many people live in India. You'd never feel so claustrophobic in America. Still, the day was wonderful. I went to a place with absolutely no foreign visitors (I'm sure the villagers wouldn't even know how to really react), and found some needed peace. Oh, and saw some temples too.

Day Five. Mysore Darshan, Take Two. I needed to buy my train tickets from Bangalore to Hyderabad, and then from Hyderabad to Ahmedabad. So, I waited at the ticket reservation hour, in the exceptionally slow line, for over two hours. After I left, it was too late to head out to Srirangapatna, like I had planned. So, I decided to do that tomorrow. I decided to walk and take pictures of random buildings in Mysore. The above picture is of Mysore Palace from through its East Gate. Then, I remembered a set of ruined temples close to Chamundi Hill, so I tried to find my way there, but I never quite made it. By this point, the sun was burning and my breakfast of porridge was long gone. So, I decided to call it a day. Not much of a darshan, but still not so bad. Bought tickets. Got some good walking in. And finally a day of no traveling!

Day Six. Mysore Darshan, Take Three. I woke up today with a bit of a stomachache, sadly only one week after dealing with this in the Wayanad. So, I had to scrap my plans to see Srirangapatna today. Luckily, I didn't have to go far to get plain bread and lemon soda (the food of sick people everywhere!). I stepped out of my room and sat down at a table. Soon, to one side, sat Richard, a Welch nurse's assistant who specializes in Psychiatric problems. On the other side, two Britishers, Sophie, who deals with assessment for environmental consulting, and Jane, who recently got a Master's degree in a topic between Sociology and Geography. Joining them was Ben, a Canadian from Banff (who ended our friendship the moment I said that I preferred Jasper) who works as a bartender, a snowboard shop employee, and a realtor, and who's been traveling for 3.5 of the last 5 years, who bought a house worth half a million Canadian dollars, and who is the same age as I am. The five of us had a great time chatting it up. The latter three were also staying at the Parklane. Sophie and Jane had just arrived and wanted to see things. Ben was more inclined to take it easy. And Richard had been doing Yoga nonstop for the past week. He had to skip out on our daily activities, but I decided to tag along with the other three when they went off to the Palace. I acted as their guide (a bad one, of course), since I had been there before. I had a great time with them as we visited the Palace and forced Jane to ride a camel (which we all claimed looked a little like her), since she hadn't done this before. After, we went to the Devaraja Market, where we saw lots of tika powder (shown above), bought some flowers, tried a new vegetable, and lost Ben (who ended up learning how to sell flowers from the vendors) along the way. We then met Ben and Richard for dinner at the Parklane. I ate food and drank alcohol, though I really shouldn't have. Because it was Valentine's Day, I asked one of my waiter friends to secretly get me two roses, which I then presented to Jane and Sophie. We then had fun trying to find odd places to put the roses on our heads. Finally, all tuckered out, I turned in, sad that I didn't go to Srirangapatna, but excited to have met these great people.

Day Seven. Srirangapatna. Finally. I got up and still had issues. Nevertheless, I was determined to make it to the very last stop in Mysore. Jane and Sophie joined me for lunch, and decided to go to Chamundi Hill and the Zoo today (I passed by the zoo, but decided not to go in, because my experience in Indian zoos always leaves me feeling sorry for the animals). Jane and I both ordered corn flakes, which weren't corn flakes at all. I don't know what they were, but they were so hard I could feel my teeth chipping. I of course didn't finish this. After a final trip to the bathroom, I packed up and left for Srirangapatna, better known as S.R. Patna (or Patna, for short). I hopped off the bus at the first stop, which led me to the rarely used Mysore Gate. I marveled at the remnants of the fort, and how they have been incorporated into the current city. Just so you know, SR Patna was the capital of Tippu Sultan's empire, which controlled all of Mysore until the British defeated him in the Fourth Mysore War of 1799. Doing so gave the British the ability to finally expand into the South. Also, SR Patna is located on a large island in the middle of the Cauvery River. Anyway, I tromped along the streets, not really knowing where I was going, until I saw a flag post that offered a good view of the city. From there, I saw what I thought was the Gumbaz, the burial site for Tippu Sultan and his famous father, Hyder Ali. I also saw the Sri Ramanathaswami Temple, and really thought, 'Wow, everything is so close together!' The Gumbaz was actually the Jamia Masjid, which I went into and wondered at the intricacy. Also, the Masjid's outer wall belonged to a Hindu temple, the inner building was Muslim, and the building's base was blessed by Jains. A synthesis of three religions, such was the openness of Tippu Sultan, a Muslim. I then started to walk to the temple, but found out it was closed, and that the Dariya Daulat Bagh, Tippu's summer palace, would close soon and I would miss it. So, I hopped on a riksha which took me to the Bagh, which now houses a museum within the fantasticly ornately colored palace. After, the driver took me to the real Gumbaz, which had a cool onion-shaped top. Then to the Sangam, where the Cauvery meets two other waterways at the edge of the SR Patna island. Finally, I saw the ruins of Tippu's Lal Bagh, his daily palace; the place where the British found his body; the site in the fort's walls that the British entered through to defeat Tippu; the dungeon where Tippu kept all his prisoners (shown above); and the Sri Ramanathaswamy (Vishnu in a reclining or sleeping mode) Temple. It was a nice trip, though expensive due to the riksha ride. But I know I wouldn't have seen everything without it. Now I'm back in Mysore, and will have dinner with everyone soon. Most likely I'll leave tomorrow for Madikeri, where I'll spend only one day.

Mysore was amazing. I haven't stayed this long anywhere since Hampi, and I had new experiences every day. I appreciate my time here, and revel in the fact that I've done more here than pretty much anyone else would ever do.

Scared Puppies

Yesterday isn't the first time I came across a dog that seemed terrified of humans. Many, and by this I mean about half, seem to have a mortal fear of humans. Yesterday, while in Melkote, I tried to befriend a puppy that was scrounging around for food. All the while, a little girl seemed intent on terrorizing this poor creature. She stomped near it, yelled, and really treated it like crap. So, when I tried to call it over or approach it, it stayed away warily. It didn't want anything to do with me.

Sometimes I can befriend a dog here or there. Usually, they only experience fear around other humans and I. For a society known for its kindness to animals, India hasn't shown it.

Please Comment!

It takes little time, and I really want to know that someone is reading my blog. I know there's a lot to read, but still...I would really appreciate it if you commented every now and then. Thanks.

Learn Indian-English

As I've been traveling, I've been writing down words and phrases that I can use later on in my novel, as well as for future reference, like a dictionary. Here's a snippet. After this, you'll be able to speak like an Indian...that is, if you can do a good accent:

Cum - Oh, gross...that's not what it means here! You see cum written everywhere, most often as exhibition-cum-sale. The word simply indicates a combination. It's an exhibition and a sale, not one or the other.

Finger Chips - You'll see this in every restaurant serving Continental (Western) food. These are french fries (or Freedom Fries, if you're George W. Bush).

Tension - This word is exceptionally popular, and it simply means stress.

P.J. - You're a great Mumbai-ite if you know this. It's not pajamas. Nope, it's a Poor Joke, as in one that's so stupid you moan after it ends (if you have an engineer in your family, you know exactly what I'm talking about).

Bisquits - In America, these tend to be like flaky bread rolls. In India, they have a dual meaning. They are snack items, and can be sweet or salty: Cookies and crackers are both called bisquits.

Bunk school - This simply means to skip school. So, then do students here have Senior Bunk Day?

Of course, there are many more words, but these are some of the most interesting. Now you can speak just like an Indian!

Pick Your Own Identity

Before I open my mouth to any Indian stranger here, my mind becomes like a Choose Your Own Adventure book. I got to decide who I am before I say anything. Here are the decisions:

1. Am I Indian or American? If I'm Indian, I'm definitely Gujarati. If I choose this path, I must use an accent at all times.
2. If I'm Gujarati, what reason do I have for not being able to speak Hindi? This issue most likely will come up. Kids in particular can be very perceptive about this.
3. What's my job? Usually, I'm an English teacher. Hey, I was at one point in time! If I'm American, this isn't an issue. If I'm Indian, am I teacher in America or Gujarat?
4. Am I married? This one is easy. Hell no! Why not? Just because...
5. Usually by this point, the conversation fizzles. Hopefully I'm home free.

I typically choose the Indian path if I'm with kids or in a situation where I know that saying I'm American will draw far too much attention. Still, I hate this game...

If I Were An Average Indian...

...And I were moving to America, I'd have some issues. I would spit randomly and frequently onto the street, and I would burp loudly after every meal. I would grab the hands of my male friends while walking, and really sit close to them at rest (yeah, watch out fellow 3-301ians!) I would run to jump on my bus while it was still moving (which I love doing, by the way, but I'm always afraid I'll lose a sandal in the process), only to smash into the closed door. I would then attempt to pay my fare based on distance traveled. I would be frustrated and irritated by the immensely idiotic English measurement system, wondering why the orderly and sensical metric and Celsius systems had no place in America. I would feel confounded by the necessity to use toilet paper, and I would have a hard time feeling clean after using the bathroom. And I would have problems using both hands to eat meals.

Sure, I'm generalizing and caricaturing Indians, grouping lots of practices into one person. Perhaps most Indians who move to America wouldn't have these issues. And yet, anyone who made the cultural transition with minimal problems...I salute you!

Some Things India Did Right

I know that I normally rip on India, making it sound a bit odd or maybe somewhat depressing. But, here are some things that the country got really right:

1. Pay-to-use toilets. Sounds fancy. These public facilities are everywhere, sometimes even minutes from each other (like Starbucks). And they may be lacking in the cleanliness department, but asking each person to only pony up one or two rupees to use the bathroom is great. This means that the government can put more toilets around, because taxpayers aren't paying for them. And everyone needs to use the bathroom, so these puppies pay for themselves. Of course, this doesn't stop men from going Number 1 even just outside.

2. Protected monuments. India's got a very long and complex history, which left behind ruins and religious buildings galore. So, the government got wise and protected them. Plastics are not allowed in many places (though sometimes you see them here and there). Guards watch everyone like hawks. And fees keep visitors at bay. And the best part is that EVERYTHING seems to be protected. You can't go into a city without seeing at least one building with a sign outside saying that it's protected by the government. Of course, some of these buildings become homes for the homeless, but for the most part, they are left only for the cautious tourists.

3. The bus system. Okay, everyone raves about the train system. Sure, it goes to lots of places, but personally, I don't really like it. I've only ridden a train three times since arriving here. They are highly inconvenient. Usually you need to book days in advance, and then travel kilometers out of town just to get to the station. The bus system really is the unsung hero of the Indian transportation system. Each state owns and manages its buses through a corporation (eg. Kerala State Road Transportation Corporation, or KSRTC for short). Private buses are also allowed in the mix. These buses leave constantly. I rarely have to wait long to catch a bus to the location of my choice. They go to small villages, just in case I need to visit somewhere remote. And while they may be rusting tin buckets with drivers who have death wishes, you still get to your location at a timely fashion, and after paying much less than you would for a train.

Things I Don't Get

Okay, there are many things about India that confuse me. I've already indicated a bunch over the past two months. Here are a few more:

1. In South India, when Hindu kids are blessed, they don't just get a kanku (or tika in Hindi, kum kum in the South) placed on their forehead. Nope, they get something special. A little black dot placed between the brows, and another one on their left cheek. I don't understand this, and the few people I've asked really didn't either. It's just something people do.

2. Pepsi in India (and maybe in the US too???) has now released a new flavor: Cafe Chino. Coffee-flavored cola. I tried it today. Ummm...recall this one quickly! Like you did with Crystal Pepsi!!!

3. In Tamil Nadu, there are scarecrow-type dummies everywhere rural. But these are a little frightening, and they aren't just in fields to scare away birds. These dummies are typically hanging with a noose tight around their necks. Sometimes, even blood is shown. I even saw one impaled, with a sharp stake going through it. And these can be found near houses, temples, or in fields. It's really quite disturbing.

Hotels and Hotels: The funny places I've stayed

Munnar: My hotel was amazing, but my room didn't have an attached bathroom. My room opened up into the family's kitchen and dining area. This meant that I had to walk amongst the family owners in my PJs just to use the bathroom. Still, the hotel was up the Church hill quite a ways, and thus was really quiet and had some nice views of the city. Also, the garden was great, allowing for some nice relaxation. Most everyone else was paying at least 800 Rs to stay there. I paid almost a fourth of the price. And, I felt a little too close to the family that owned the place.

Ernakulam: Between Munnar and Kalpetta, I spent one night in Ernakulam (Cochin). I had high hopes for the place, thinking to get a place with a TV and ordering in pizza. No such luck. The supposed Domino's Pizza was in fact the now defunct Dominoz Pizza Corner. And my hotel? I went to about ten different places, and each was completely full. I didn't realize that there was a huge IT Conference going on there at the time. So, I went with the first place I found, which cost me a whopping 450 Rs for one night. Still, it had a TV. I bought some food and ate in my room. That night, things went a little crazy. I had gone out to buy some water, and when I returned, about 20 centimeter-long, green or black, flying bugs were flying around my room. Strangely enough, their wings would break off, and the critters would land anywhere and everywhere and just start walking. Wings littered everything. The bugs weren't particularly dangerous. Just annoying. So, I scooped them up and tossed them out. About an hour later, seemingly out of nowhere, about 40 of them appeared. They seemed to multiply randomly and there were more and more of them. But, I got rid of them. Then, at about 12:30am, I turned off my light and TV. I got into bed, and suddenly heard sounds of flying. I sat up, and something hit my face. Again and again. I switched on the light, and there were about 200 of these suckers. 200 and counting. Everywhere. Falling onto everything, including me. I fled my room, ran down to the reception area, woke up the guy, and demanded a room change. I quickly threw all my stuff into the next room, and slept the night with great worry. But, thankfully, these bugs never came into my new room. No, instead, I had a swarm of mosquitoes. It was at that point that I decided that I HAD to leave Ernakulam for good.

Kalpetta: Being sick isn't fun. Especially stomach sick. Having communal squat toilets all the way on the other side of the building doesn't make it easier. Neither does the immense noise from the nation highway right outside. Still, the 60 Rs. a night pricetag makes it much easier. I could stay there are recuperate wtihout paying too much. And the people were nice, though one of the owners was a bit nosy. He actually followed me into my room and started going through my stuff until I stopped him. Still, not a bad place to be.

Mysore: I just got here, but I already know that my hotel room, for 125 Rs. a night, is also interesting. It's located in a very popular restaurant. And when I say in, I mean in. The door into my room is actually next to a couple of the tables. Luckily, I can listen to live classical music play right outside my door. We'll see how this works out. The room is nice. The setting is odd... Okay, I like it. Sure, it's a little weird to walk into my room with all eyes wondering where I'm going. Still, now that I know the whole waitstaff, who is there from open to close, I'm having a great time. I can step outside of my room to have a beer and to write. Of course, I spend money at the restaurant (this is why the hotel can charge so little for the rooms). The only drawback is that the noise continues until about 1am, thus making it hard to fall asleep before this. This issue, coupled with the super comfy bed, makes it tough to wake up at a decent time. Still, I do really like this place.

Beware the 'Pink Tea'

Many smaller, more local restaurants in Kerala don't serve water immediately. Instead, they serve a pink tea. I saw this first in Trivandrum, and refused to touch it, much to the confusion of Parvati and Srijit. I saw it many other times during my time in Kerala. Still, when I asked about it, no one could tell me anything about it, accept that it's ayurvedic. Most people, including tourists, had never even seen it. They all thought I was crazy.

Finally, in the Wayanad, I decided to try it. I would be leaving Kerala soon, and this seems to be common, at least to me. I asked it the tea was previously boiled, and the waiter assured me that the tea was safe. So, I had some for lunch and dinner on the same day. It basically tasted like hot water, and I blame the tea for my stomach sickness that followed. So, if you visit Kerala, avoid the pink tea!

The Wayanad: Unfortunate Events Amidst Noise and Nature

Kalpetta, the headquarters for the Wayanad District, was my last stop in Kerala. After a grueling 9 hour bus ride from Ernakulam that dropped me off at 9:30pm, I had a hard time finding a hotel. Still, in the dark of night, I succeeded, only to find out the next morning that my grandmother had died, only about 2 weeks before I was planning to visit Gujarat. This, of course, spoiled my whole day, as I contemplated what the world had lost. That afternoon, I visited the government's tourism center (the DTPC) and arranged an uninspired jeep tour for the next day, leaving at 8am, taking me to Edakkal Cave and Muthanga Wildlife Reserve, and costing me a total of 1700 Rs. That night, I talked with Sejal, and mentioned how I was worried from drinking the "pink tea," but I felt alright (read the next post). The next morning, not wanting to pay 1700 Rs when probably a riksha could take me everywhere more cheaply, I told the driver that I was sick.

And then I was. I think it was the combination of the "pink tea" and my grandmother's death that caused my stomach to turn for the first time in over two months. Luckily, only diarrhea. Unluckily, I had to use a squat communal toilet. My Belgian friend Sam tried to encourage me, particularly to eat. That night, I had a third of a dosa, and then gave the rest to a homeless woman. Still, the worst was having to use the bathroom at night, which required me to walk outside in the cold (we were in the mountains), around the building, to a small, stinky room with no light. Yeah, it sucked.

The next day, I felt alright enough to eat a bite for lunch. Then Sam and I ventured down to Pookote Lake. He decided to take a nap, and told me to wake him within an hour. As I walked away, I noticed a dirt trail leading into the forest. Of course, I took it. I climbed through the dense forest to a ridge that overlooked the lake. A view, away from the crowds and paddleboats, is what I had really wanted. And I got it, and it's shown above. Eventually, before the hour finished, I went down to wake Sam. He had left. The park. I searched for him until 6:30pm, then finally left. Out Austrian friend Martin had told us to walk one kilometer down the road to the main road, then catch a bus back to Kalpetta. I think I went the wrong way. I walked at least 3 kilometers in the complete dark, with my stomach threatening to cause serious problems. Finally, in frustration, and a bit of worry, I caught a riksha back. It turns out that Sam thought that stomach had caused so many problems, that I had left early. So, he left. Whoops.

The next day, I visited the other main city, Sultanbathery (known locally as Bathery). I walked and searched and tromped around to find an old Jain Temple, which, for some reason, no one in Bathery knew about. After eating a little lunch, I resumed my search. After having walked at least 4 kilometers in the midday heat, I found a riksha driver to take me there. It wasn't worth it. The statue of Lord Mahavir didn't even exist anymore! My driver, a young, married guy who invited me to his house for dinner (I think...he didn't speak any English), then took me to Edakkal Caves. The 1.5 kilometer hike to the top was fun, though for some reason, my riksha driver accompanied me and complained the whole time that we should have taken one of the 3 Rs. jeeps. But walking is good exercise. Though, when you're trying to get over a stomach sickness, steep hiking in midday isn't the smartest move. Still, the caves were cool, with Stone Age carvings that confuse archaeologists to this day. After all the walking during the day, I was more than willing to head back to my place.

Wayanad presented me with some opportunities. I saw the Lake and the Cave. I never saw the waterfalls or the wildlife reserves. I got stomach sick for the first time, and lost my grandmother. Highs and lows. Oh, and my hotel was right next to a nation highway, and my room was INCREDIBLY loud, even in the middle of the night. Sigh...Still, Wayanad had some of the most beautiful scenery I had seen thus far on my trip. That is, when I got to enjoy it.

Munnar: Tea and Tahrs

Munnar, a not that high up hill station in the Western Ghats, is where India gets most of its tea. That means that the surroundings are completely covered in plantations, all parceled out to Manupady or Tata or some other big company. The beautiful surroundings also means that there are touts galore to take you to X hotel or to offer you Y tour. And of course, my tout was Babu. He helped me find a great hotel for the cheapest price I could find, which also had a nice garden to sit and chill in. And then, he sold me on a tour. I bargained him down from 1000 Rs to 700. And funnily enough, he didn't take me. His cousin, Dinesh, did. We saw dams and lakes made by dams and an elephant working and a place called Top Station, which overlooks the Western Ghats in Tamil Nadu. I learned that Leonardo Dicaprio is shooting a film in Munnar, and I saw one of the sets being constructed. Of course, though Leo was also in Munnar, he was too good to stay at my hotel.

I also went to a place called Eravikulam National Park, which is home to the rare Nilgiri Tahr, tiny mountain goats that are so cute, you'd really just want to take one home with you in the luggage (though you probably wouldn't get past Customs). I convinced the ticket guy that I was Gujarati in order to pay the Indian price, and every time I came near a ranger, I had to bring up the accent. I hung out with an Italian couple, Simona and Alessandro, and we were lucky for each other. After hearing from people leaving the park that we wouldn't see anything, I spotted the first of the Tahr. Simona and I approached it slowly and cautiously, and literally got to within two meters of it before it decided to move. And it didn't bolt. It just got up and walked a couple of feet. Really, these creatures have nothing to fear, and therefore never seemed worried about us. On the way to the top, we came across a group of young men, all wearing blue beanies in the great heat, who wanted us in their picture. They showed us a temple, and really created enough noise and chaos to frighten away the fearless Tahrs. Simona spotted another Tahr once we left the crazy Blue-Hat men. We also came amazingly close to this one. My time in the park was short, but it was worth it. Tahrs and Blue Hats...a great combo.

Still, the best part about Munnar was the people I met. Okay, I didn't really spend more than an hour with Simona and Alessandro (though amazingly enough I just bumped into them at this particular internet cafe in Mysore one week after I last saw them!). However, there were a few other people I chilled with. Mark (number three), from Leeds in England, was staying at my hotel. I met him and we immediately got along. We dined together for most meals and basically had a good time. Nooria, a soft-spoken girl from Switzerland, was also cool. She laughed a lot, and particularly at my jokes. Too bad I never got to say good-bye, though I was able to convince her to stay an extra day. No, not even Nooria. The real kicker was the person who accompanied her to Munnar.

So, my first night there, I really didn't have much to do. I had just eaten dinner, and I decided to catch up on some journal writing. Luckily, my room was right next to the garden area, and I had decided to keep my window open. Even with my headphones on, I heard a few voices speaking in English. Always eager to meet other foreigners, I took off the headphones and listened more clearly. The male voice caught my attention immediately. I knew that voice! I jumped out of bed and walked outside. All I saw was Rajiv (the employee) and Nooria standing in a doorway. Rajiv was talking, and I didn't want to disturb him. So, I turned around and started to walk away, thinking that perhaps I had been mistaken. Rajiv then stops and asks if I needed anything. I said no, I'm alright. I turn back around and suddenly I hear someone yell out, "Sapan!!!!" I turn back to see the person I thought it was, Inaki (the crazy Basque from the Alleppey houseboat), run up to me and give me a big hug. It turns out that Nooria and Inaki met on the beach in Alleppey, and he had convinced her to come to Munnar instead of to Periyar. They were staying in a terrible room down in the city, and had randomly bumped into Rajiv. He offerred them some tea and invited them to see the hotel. So, they came. And at 9 o'clock that night, we found each other. We stayed chatting. I randomly saw them again at Top Station the next day. We dined and had fun. I got to know Inaki much better. And it made my time in Munnar much the better.

On my last day there, I decided to go on my own little trek down to Attukkad Waterfalls through some tea plantations. I followed the basic map, but then had to find my way. I climbed down and down through the plantations. Every time the path forked, I decided to go to the right, toward the direction of the river. After a while, after having descended maybe 500 meters, I finally heard water rushing. I went faster and faster, only to reach a dead end at a house. The water, though not the waterfall, was only about 10 meters below me. The only way to get there would have been by illegally passing through the bushes themselves, instead of walking on the designated paths like I had been doing. After coming all this way and descending about 800 meters, it seemed a shame to give up. But, my sense of law and ownership told me otherwise. Maybe I was just afraid of getting into trouble. So, I turned around and tromped back up through the midday heat. Some village kids caught up to me and offerred me two of the cutest kittens ever. I wanted them, but I couldn't take them. Hopefully they won't be neglected or turned into strays. The day was long, tiring, a little bit of a letdown, but still quite fulfilling.

Three friends, Nilgiri Tahr, and lots of tea. Munnar was definitely worth it.

Three Great Things About Kerala

This state has more houses than I've seen anywhere in India, and it has some of the biggest. Even poorer people and village folk have seemingly nice homes. Of course, this shows that literacy and education can help, even when it comes to having good shelter.

There are almost no beggers in Kerala. Sure, there are homeless people, but they rarely ask for money. And there are simply fewer homeless people in Kerala than elsewhere.

Kerala has so many festivals and celebrations and protests that, no matter where you are or what day it is, you'll most likely come across something that captures your attention and brings traffic to a halt. On one day, I witnessed three of these! It's great!

You Know You've Left Kerala When...

There are four definite signs that you have now left the state of Kerala, particularly by bus:

1. English isn't prominently written everywhere you look.
2. The frequent mosques and churches have been replaced by temples.
3. Bus conductors use whistles instead of bells to tell the driver when to start/stop.
4. Buses don't have women's reservation seats in the front.

A Moment of Silence

To my wonderful Motiba...who passed away at 5:04am on Saturday, February 4, 2006. To Mangalaben Gandhi...a woman who dealt with all her personal tragedies with strength, dignity, and hope. After 90-some years of pain, through the loss of two of her children and her husband, and through the torture of prolonged bed-ridden incapacitation, she has finally attained great peace. The pain has ended, and though our lives now seem a bit darker, we know that she has moved beyond her past negative karma to a place of a great hope and happiness.

To hear her talk and laugh with such energy displayed to the world that she did not feel burdened by her handicaps, but instead lifted up by them. Though we had a language barrier between us, Gujarati seemed to come to me much more easily whenever I was with her. By setting a shining and almost inconceivably positive example, she brought out the best in everyone who knew her.

Though we will miss her, we are all happy to know that her days of suffering have finally ended. Our hearts seem a little less whole, but our spirits are lifted by ever having known her. Today is not a time to mourn or grieve, but it is a time to celebrate the woman, the mother, grandmother, the solid rock holding strong amongst a turbulent river.

Thank you, Motiba. We will all miss you dearly.

Traveling Alone Is Expensive!

Man, this sucks. Just to get into a jeep to go to Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary tomorrow (the only way to go), I have to pay 1450 Rs, plus an additional 250 to get into the park. 1700 Rs for just one day! 1000 Rs for a canoe trip. 700 Rs for a tea plantation tour. I almost paid 3500 Rs for a houseboat; 875 each when sharing with seven others is MUCH better. Plus every time I have to pay for a double room because there are no singles, and no, I can't pay only a single price, because I'm staying in a double...sigh. Traveling alone is great, but it sure is hard on the wallet.

Kerala and Religion

Kerala is, in so many ways, a different India: Ninety-one percent of the population is literate, English is written and spoken almost everywhere, political protests and demonstrations occur in the streets almost daily, kathakali and theyyam performances take your breath away, seafood is readily available, NATURAL BEAUTY is everywhere, and most non-veg places serve beef (yes, beef!).

One of the most fascinating things about Kerala, though, is its take on religion. The state has a hearty mix of Hindus, Muslims, and Christians. It's also the only place with a Nestorian settlement and a Jewish community (in fact, the Sassoon family, of the Vidal Sassoon brand, were Jewish Indians from Cochin). Here, religion is not much of a problem. Remember Shahji, my tiny canoe-driver from Alleppey? He was devout Muslim, chatted about Hindu philosophy, and took me to visit a church and a temple. But no place is the religious equality more noticeable than Munnar. Munnar has three major hills upon and between which it was built. And on each hill, a prominent building for each of the three religions: a Muslim masjid, a Christian church, and a Hindu mandir. Throughout the day and night, we can hear Hindu chanting, the Muslim call to prayer (for namaz/salat), and church bells. It's an amazing mixture of religion.

However, as you go further north, things change. Islam becomes the most prominent of the religions, simply because northern Kerala had much trade with Arabia. There are a few things I've noticed about all this:

1. All the masjids (mosques) in Kerala are green. Some have some dark forest green, but most are a sickening pastel green. Why green? Because this is the major color of Islam? Then why pastel?

2. The further north you go, the fewer Hindu temples and Christian churches you'll see. In fact, on my way from Ernakulam (Cochin) to Kalpetta (through Calicut), I did not see a single temple. And in the whole city of Kalpetta, I have yet to find one.

3. So many skullcaps and burqahs/hijabs! Oh, and more people like Osama the more north you go in Kerala.

Moral Dilemmas

Okay, I have two problems/issues to resolve.

1. At what point does taking pictures of locals and villagers doing their jobs become like taking pictures of animals in a zoo? I would be traveling on the backwaters or through the mountain villages, and tourists would be snapping away. I've tried not to do this (unless it's a big group, I have permission of the photographee, or I'm taking the picture for reasons other than novelty, like I just think it's a nice picture), but it's tough. At what point does that line exist where we start seeing people like animals?

2. As an environmentally-friendly person, I've tried not to follow the Indians' example of constantly littering on the ground. But I've hit a point of difficulty. What's the use of not littering when the cities don't even bother to sprinkle trashcans along the road? I'd walk around for hours with a piece of trash until I arrive back at my hotel. But sometimes that's not possible. So, before we change the mindsets of the people, we need to provide trashcans.