sweat, patience, and the Taj Mahal

India is tireless, insistent, hot, smelly, filthy, impoverished, beautiful and culturally rich. As much as we have worn ourselves out we are so glad to have come. I've imagined this place my whole life, watched the documentaries, looked at the picture books, but nothing is ever like actually being here and experiencing it myself. As cliche as it is the most apt description I find is that India is a multifaceted experience that plays itself out on your every sensory level in excess.

For example: a simple walk down the street-- It's hot, you step out of your guesthouse and exchange a friendly smile with the guesthouse worker who you were arguing with over prices an hour ago. Grudges don't hold out here too long, everyone is after your business/money at all times, you stand up for what is fair and move on. Did I mention it's hot? You're already dripping with sweat. A rickshaw driver jumps to attention and insists on driving you wheverever you want, you insist on no over and over and stop making eye contact quickly so he isn't too hopeful. And repeat that with the 30 other people with a saleable service you pass until you reach the end of the block. You're at a roundabout, a huge cow is leisurely picking his way through the traffic that anticipates it's movements and swarm around it like bats using sonar navigation. While refusing a dozen more drivers you dodge the traffic yourself which is coming in all directions at all times. Since people never use them lanes are often not even painted on the street. People drive en masse on the wrong side of the road so long as a huge vehicle isn't staring them down. The distinct smell of human defecation fills your nostrils, you've come to recognize it. You look down at your feet in flip flops wondering where not to step but the whole thing looks like a mess, just keep walking. A woman who must be young is looking at you with a dark leathery face, a small child is draped over her shoulder so it's bottom is facing you. She lifts its badly scarred leg in your direction, you look away and keep walking. Soon you figure you're probably lost. You haven't seen a street sign yet, you look for a rickshaw driver and finally can't find one.

Other interesting things about India are:
There are animals everywhere. Cows really are king here and they're everywhere. Besides them there are hordes of dogs, cats, tourist areas have elephants giving rides on the sides of the highway, camels are in common use for carting and tourists, monkeys are everywhere, we haven't had any bad encounters with them yet but everyone here is pretty freaked out when they get too close, pigs, huge oxen, donkeys, mules, and horses absolutely overburdened with huge carts of stuff, i've seen a couple peacocks, and one night i saw a leopard! Hernando doesn't believe me because he's jealous. We were driving back from a remote hilltop fort on another awful road at night and i saw it peek out from behind a rock! That was awesome.

Men are very affectionate with one another though be clear this is still a homophobic culture. I believe they don't acknowledge homosexuality to exist therefore it's ok to hold hands with one another, walk with their hands around each others waists. They look like items...

And oh so joyfully I can now say I know what it feels like to be a celebrity. Everyday a number of men ask if they can take their picture with me. For the first 2 weeks Hernando and I tolerated this odd anomaly until it was no longer that. Actually the deal breaker was when one of them tried to hold my hand, and all Indian men from here on out have to suffer because of him. I'm serious, I am literally being hounded for my picture. To the point that where despite the Indian desert heat I prefer to go out with a shawl covering my hair and I wear sunglasses indoors and I shoo people away like Princess Diana with the paparazzi.

Our patience is definitely being tried. Sometimes it feels like we are persevering to have fun, but we certainly are. I can't expect you to go on but if you have another free hour I'll go on about where we've been!...

We spent two days in Dharamshala, a hill station in the himalayas famous for being the home of the Dalai Lama in exlie and thus scores of Tibetan refugees. I can't say much for the place, the weather was dismal and all the buildings were so dusty and moldy I felt like I could hardly breathe. The pillows we were given were so thouroughly infested with black mold, I couldn't believe it. And when I asked for new ones there wasn't much of a difference so we went pillowless. As a place it also wasn't very special though we enjoyed the Tibetan Buddhist temple, prayer wheels are so lovely, and we enjoyed the museum commemorating the plight of the Tibetan people. Well you can hardly enjoy learning about a people's collective torture and suffering but we were glad to walk away with a better understanding of what they have gone through. Tibetans are openly discriminated against and marginalized in Tibet and are paid lower wages for the same jobs. If you're interested the Dalai Lama has a website: dalailama.com.

Amritsar is also hardly a pleasant city but it is perhaps the most fascinating place I've ever been to. It is home to the Sikh holy place, the golden temple. It is so beautiful but what I like most is that unlike almost every other place you visit as a tourist this place is very much in use. And when you visit you take part in the traditions whether or not you are sikh. You take holy food with your hands after you leave the temple, you touch the holy water, you can also drink it but I'll leave that to the Sikhs. They even host anyone who needs a place to stay for free in a huge room with hundreds of mattresses on the floor. You can eat there for free 24/7, they are always serving. We had some good dal, rice pudding and chapatis there. The craziest cultural activity we've witnessed was the daily retreat ceremony at the border with Pakistan. Everyday thousands of people drive out to the border after it closes on both sides to watch their guards do a bizarre show. They're dressed up with fans in their turbans and hats, they stomp their feet, they rally the crowds, girls and little boys dance in separate groups to bollywood hits in the middle before it starts. For part of it both sides throw open the gates and charge one another right up to line where they throw out their arms and chests and like-- what you gonna do?-- and the crowd goes nuts shouting Hindustan, or Pakistan depending on what side you're on. What strikes me most is each side gets so into it as though they are making their stand to one another but in order for it to work it has to be so highly choreographed between the two armies. A bird above would see thousands of people doing the same things on either side of a closed gate. I have never heard of this anywhere else in the world, it obviously speaks volumes of the tension between these 2 countries despite everything Gandhi fought for.

This morning at 6 we saw the Taj Mahal. It is so incredible nothing else is like it in the world, it is worth all the hype. I think everyone should make an effort to see it and experience India at some point in their lives.

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Manali in Manali

So all my life I've heard about and have been dying to see this beautiful little village in the foothills of the Himalayan mountains called Manali, where of course my name comes from. And we're finally here. Upon research though about the place I find that there's a holiday inn and I have even heard from the occasional person who's been here before that there's a McDonalds, so needless to say this place has become all but undiscovered. Good news-- there's no McDonalds though it's very built up with guest house after hotel after guest house. Many Indian honeymooners choose to come here as with Indian tourists in general and for some odd reason hordes of Israeli backpackers. Unfortunately the local people have never heard of a trash can so they through everything in the river or on the nearest patch of available space, though litter is a huge problem throughout India not just here. Not to knock the place too bad, I know I don't sound too impressed yet, but it wasn't until our second or third day here that I discovered the gem of this place. In the back lanes of Old Manali, as opposed to the part known as New Manali, Hernando and I happened to come across the very old traditional houses of the local hill tribe people. They're 2 story homes that function both as a barn and house. On the bottom floor there's the family cow and the top floor usually has a beautifully carved wooden balcony that may be painted bright turquoise or green. It was lovely to get lost in those lanes they also have an amazing view of the valley below and tall mountains, some so high they are still capped with snow. That I imagine is what my parent's saw and fell in love with all those years ago, before the development Manali now sees today.

It is quite surreal to finally be here after a lifetime of curiosity. I'm still not quite sure what to make of it. The wierdest part is hearing my damn name everywhere-- that I will never get used to. I have to stop myself from turning around to every passer by sthat says Manali. It is also of course quite amusing to introduce myself to people. The bus driver from Delhi got a real kick out of it. One of the other people at the station must have told him my name because he didn't speak any English but whenever he saw me he would just say "Manali, Manali!"

Moving on to the most terrifying ride in my life, well one of them. There was one in Venezuela that was pretty bad as well... anyhow... Yesterday H and I were in a jeep like vehicle climbing 2,000 meters, over a 60 kilometer road (40ish miles?) fpr 3 hellish hours to reach the beutiful place you see in the photo called Rohtang pass. Our driver was nuts, though nery nice, overtaking any vehicle he could on this narrow cliff edge road. We finally made it and then an hour and a bit later it was time to come back down, mostly in the dark! I took videos. One day I'll have the time and gather the technological known how to upload that.

Tonight we leave on an overnight bus to Dharamshala, the home of the Dalai Lama.

Namaste!

(hello and goodbye in Hindi)

our first two weeks

I can't believe two weeks have gone by and this is our first post about the trip! Well we've been busy and we've hardly had a chance to get on the internet (except to cancel our energy bills!) until now, so there will be a lot of ground to cover.

The first 10 days were in England. London was fun. We did the Eye (giant ferris wheel), the Tate Modern, got lost in Camden Market, took our photos in front of Big Ben and all those things you have to do when a toursit in London. My 3rd cousin's Matt and Olly were sweet enough to put us up even though I totally played the family card on them. I'd only met them and their brother Richard twice before that! But we had a blast they're also musicians and a lot of fun-- thanks again guys!

After 5 days there we moved on to spend the rest of our time with my grandparents (mom's side) in the ever so quaint town of Woodbridge, a seaside town 1 1/2 hours NE of London by train. They drove us around everywhere since we decided not to save money and not rent a car of our own. Woodbridge is filled with picturesque and pristinely preserved buildings from the 1500's, and hobbling retirees who like to visit all the shops. We visited the seaside, Hernando saw his first castle, we drank many cups of tea, and enjoyed the rides through the narrow country lanes.

We also saw my Grandad, my dad's dad the Baptist minister give a service. It was my first time seeing him in church and it was how Hernando met him. Yes we arrived late to the service and sheepishly tried to sneak in unnoticed but the 10 other people in congregation all turned to see who these news strangers were interrupting the service. I also felt questionably dressed, I only have my ugly but oh so comfy grey sneakers and I didn't match at all, like OMG. I'm glad we went Grandad is 94 and I don't know how many other opportunities I may get. Though he is actually the most sprightly 94 year old ever, he looks at least 20 years younger. He always says he doesn't know how much longer he has, though almost gleefully. He can't wait to join Nana, God, and Jesus in Heaven. I don't know that I will joinging the Baptist church anytime soon though. Maybe a Hindu temple, they are vibrant and colorful... Though I guess Grandad would say that I'm just a doomed pagan. Oh yes-- in Hernando's sweet attempt to converse with Grandad he kept wanering into no go zones. I wanted to sigmal to him to stop but could only sit back and watch the show. At one point he unwittingly got Grandad to admit that my cousins are pagans, which means that we also are pagans. Yikes.

So we left Woodbridge and more than a day later with a 5 hour stopover in Bahrain we found ourselves in Delhi, India. One thing's for sure, we ain't in Woodbridge anymore. Delhi has to be the utter opposite of Woodbridge. Big, hot, dirty, smelly, and utterly chaotic. That' not to say we haven't enjoyed it! We've seen some sights and I have so much more to say but we need to catch a bus to our next destination-- Manali! Will write soon!