Day 118: Goodbye, Goa

Andrew and I had a few hours in the morning before we had to head to the airport for our flight out of India and into the U.A.E. We walked down to the beach, ate at our favorite ‘German Bakery’ (ran by a really sweet Nepalese couple), and picked up some Bebinca (a Goan desert we forgot to try together) to taste with Kate when we arrived in the U.A.E.

We were excited to get out of the country and spend New Year’s Eve in the U.A.E. until we arrived to the airport and discovered our first flight was delayed and then we were told we would be able to get on the flight out of Mumbai the following night. As in New Years Eve arriving at the airport. “No, that’s not possible.” Andrew said firmly to the airline clerk. We were told to wait. Andrew was stressed we weren’t going to be able to celebrate New Year’s Eve in the desert. I waited, willing the airline to ‘make it work.’ And then, magically, it did. We were able to get onto the earlier flight to Mumbai, made our flight from there to Dubai, and not only were we reunited with Kate, but Biggie was waiting for us outside of the airport as well!

Biggie is Kate’s adorable dog that stayed with us for a few weeks in Korea when Kate was out of the country. We both got a little attached to him. I really wanted to get a dog in Korea, but Andrew wouldn’t let me. Not really at all, but when I miss my family’s dog, or get frustrated at my lifestyle that doesn’t include a dog of my own, I take it out on Andrew and “blame him” for not letting me have a dog.  This gets him all riled up, because he wants a dog just as much as I do. (Maybe more, but don’t tell him I admitted it!) Alas, He was/is right: Korea’s small apartments, and now, traveling around the world just aren’t conducive to having a dog.  I digress. Point is, we were excited to stay with Kate, and even more excited to stay with Kate AND Biggie!

Day 117: Mackie’s Saturday night bazaar

We spent one last day on the beach (big surprise) and then went to Mackie’s Saturday night bazaar – which, forgive the pun – was more than a little bizarre. There were more western tourists in the market than we had seen in all of India. Food stalls sold Nepalese momos (dumplings), nachos, beer on tap, and falafel. And possibly the weirdest part of all was the cover band playing everything from old Madonna songs to Gangnam Style in the middle of the market complete with groups of ‘dude-bros’ rocking. it. out. Needless to say, it didn’t feel like India, and felt weird to be spending our last night in India there. We looped around the market picking up some knock-off sunglasses and harem pants before we headed back to Calengute to send Kate off to the airport.

Day 116: Old Goa

Old Goa: Church of St. Francis of Assisi, The Basilica of Born Jesus, which holds the remains of St. Francis Xavier, and St. Augustine’s tower. These are just a few of what Old Goa has to offer, and what we saw when we took a break from the beach to do some sightseeing in the old Portugese town. Again, I was expecting something different, more of an old town atmosphere than an area that was seemingly limited to the different churches of the past, only some of them still being used today. As much as I enjoy walking through different temples and trying to pick up details of different religions, it felt very comfortable being able to walk through a couple of Catholic churches, and then climb the ruins of another. I also appreciated the collision of religions, displayed by the ropes of marigolds (Hindu practice) draped over an altar outside of the Basilica of Born Jesus.

Built in 1861 by the Portugese (who had colonized Goa in the 15th century until a plague hit, and the city was abandoned in the 18th century), the Church of St. Francis of Assisi is a Roman Catholic Church featuring frescos of his life and a main alter dedicated to him, Jesus, and Saints Peter and Paul. Pews have been removed (when I’m not sure) and burial markers lie in their place. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been in a gutted out church like this before. It felt… empty, which is a shame, because the walls and side altars and the vastness of the church was all quite stunning.

The Basilica of Born Jesus is a short sprint down the road from the Church of St. Francis Assisi. It was completed in 1605, and is not only the first minor basilica in India, but it is also the best example of Baroque architecture in India. Although the facade is quite ornate, the interior wasn’t equally so, at least not the side walls of the church. However, it is a fully functioning church and held quite a few more people, pilgrims even, who had traveled to see the church, but more importantly to pay respects to the remains of St. Francis Xavier who is kept inside the Basilica.

Interesting, and slightly morbid, is that his body was originally buried on a beach in China, before being moved to Malacca for two years before again being exhumed and moved to Goa. It is said that his body was as “fresh” as it was the day he was buried in Malacca. A few pieces of his body have been removed to be put on display around the world- Rome, mostly. But the best story- again- story (I’m not entirely sure it’s true) is that a woman snuck into the church when his body was on display and bit off his toe. It is said that officials were able to track down who stole the toe from the trail of blood (from the toe) that led to her house. Crazy, right?!

His body is displayed every 10 years- the last display was in December of 2004, so only one more year and his body is scheduled to be displayed for your pilgrimage pleasure. Until then, his body is housed in a glass case inside of this tomb, below. There were so many tourists and pilgrims taking their picture in front of the tomb that I didn’t stay long and only snapped this photo as I walked out into a tiny museum like hall of religious paintings, his original casket (what a tiny person he must have been, because that box was not big at all!) and gift shop.

Our last stop in Old Goa was to see the ruins of the Church of St. Augustine. The ruins include a four story belfry tower, eight chapels, four altars, and an expansive convent. It was big. It was also quite fun to climb up and take in different views. Kate was my muse for the afternoon as we all went in different directions to explore, yet kept bumping back into each other at different turns.

And then, we played “scenario.” Scenario is a game that one of my favorite people in the world taught me. (Hi, Lindsay!) To play, you shout out an emotion or a place or activity and you act it out instead of just smiling or dropping a peace sign (like you do in Korea). 

When we got back to Calangute, I made Kate pose with the New Year ‘Old Man.’ We saw quite a few of these ‘old men’ around town and from my understanding- a man is made for good luck for the new year. Each man holds a bucket asking for donations- which, if you donate something, you get good luck as well? And then on New Year’s Eve, the man is burned, allowing you to have a fresh start for the new year, but will return next year to take away your misgivings or bad deeds or something like that. (We asked about this to different people three different times, and the answers were a little confusing. Basically. It’s a tradition. For the New Year. For luck. Is probably the simplest, most straightforward interpretation of it all.)

Day 115: More of the Same in Goa

If you’re not one for beaches, you’re probably bored out of your mind with these last few days of the blog. (Sorry!) After almost four months of travel, Andrew and I were so happy to be bored (but not really) at the beach. I don’t know why I was surprised by Goa, because after nearly five weeks in India, I should know better by now that nothing in India is going to be what I expect it to be. Nothing. Goa certainly fit this bill. First of all, we made plans to be in Goa over Christmas totally unaware that it was the high season and rates for rooms nearly quadrupled in price. It was like Mumbai all over again! We were picturing something a little more Portugese as well. A small town on the beach. Maybe some cobblestones in town and colorful store fronts. Calangute was not this. It was pretty much just like any other beach front. A small main drag led to the beach, and restaurants with chairs dotted the waterfront.

Despite the guidebooks recommending Calangute, we wondered if we were in the wrong spot. We were also surprised by the crazy number of Russian tourists and as I mentioned before Indian “dude-bros” (this is what Kate and Andrew referred to them as, and I found it fitting). Basically, Indian men go to Goa to take a break from the traditional rules in society. I didn’t see one (NOT ONE!) Indian woman on the beach we were at, which was a little creepy. Just lots of groups of Indian men in their 20s and 30s staring at the women who were on the beach. With the news, and reports of western women in the past getting into trouble in Goa, it was actually the first time that I felt uncomfortable on the trip.

Unfortunately, my discomfort was totally justified when a couple of guys came up to us (Kate, Andrew, and myself) in the water to get in on our football toss. When Kate left the water, I kept my eye on her as they asked for a photo. Not surprising. But then one of the guys tried to cop a feel and Kate threw up her arms in defense, shook her head “No” and walked away. As Andrew and I started walking in from the water, a random tourist walking by shook his finger and head in disdain at the offender. When we got to the small group of guys, as if nothing happened, they held up their camera to take a picture with me and Andrew. I shook my head at them and mimed him touching Kate inappropriately and yelled at him. The strangest part of it all was how genuinely caught off guard he and his friends seemed to be. As if they didn’t understand what the problem was trying to touch a woman. in sensitive areas. in a public place. It was infuriating, yet I found myself completely incredulous at his reaction, especially considering the (completely justifiable) uproar against violence against women in India at the moment! FOR SHAME Indian dude-bro! FOR SHAME!

Day 114: Andrew reads the “news”

Our dear friend, Kate got into Goa in the wee hours of the morning. We stayed up late, chatting, and then slept in late before getting coffee and being entertained by Andrew reading the “news.” Then we spent another day on the beach, but this time with a GIRLFRIEND! It was pretty great! I can’t even begin to tell you how much I miss my girlfriends from home (both Kentucky and Korea!)… so having at least one of them around again was the perfect Christmas present.

Day 113: Christmas in Goa

Merry Christmas! Goa style. We slept late. We had a big breakfast (chocolate milkshake included) and we went to the beach. all. day. long. We laid around, read, sipped on fenni (a local drink made from coconut or cashews) and it was awesome. It really was the most relaxing day we have had on the whole trip. Not exactly the most traditional Christmas day, definitely not the most traditional Christmas dinner (a seafood platter with an additional order of calamari) but it was wonderful.

Day 111: Kadalekalu Ganesha Temple, Hampi

Kadelekau Ganesha Temple was right at the top of a hill right outside of Hampi Bazaar. We saved it for our last morning in Hampi. We didn’t think ahead that the temples would be flooded with Indian tourists off of work and out of school over the weekend. We were immediately surrounded by curious children and we chatted and walked together from one Ganesh temple to the next, and then we weren’t at all surprised when they spotted us sitting in the shade inside the Krishna Temple. One of the girls said she was going to show her father the picture of her with us when she got home. (Adorable!) Again, I cannot stress how much I love LOVE India when I’m not trying to get from point A to point B, get a room for the night, buy a blanket… (anything involving money, really…) These girls and these interactions are why people and me included say I LOVE India!

Opposite the Krishna Temple was this wide open space lined with ancient pillars. Unfortunately we had (have) no idea what it was used for. I’m guessing another bazaar of some sort simply because it was reminded me of the bazaar we saw the day before.

I thought this woman looked so calm reading on what is actually a rooftop that was even with the road, but sat above the river below.

Day 110: the ancient ruins of the Vijayanagara Empire

The Vijayanagara Empire. Hampi. By motorbike (even though it might have been the weakest motorbike in all of India). When we visited Siem Reap, the tuktuk mafia banned tourists from renting motorbikes so they could have more business. It was impossible to even find a motorbike to rent and we were told if we did find one, the tuktuk drivers would act all crazy on the road. Luckily, this wasn’t the case in Hampi and we were able to rent a bike fairly cheaply and head out to see the ancient ruins of the Vijayanagara on our our own!

We began close to Hampi bazaar (that’s the name of the area we stayed in) and walked through a few smaller temples next to the Tungabhadra River. Some women were sitting outside of one unnamed temple and offered some of their snack as we walked by. I think it was dried potato flakes. They looked like flat frosted flakes, only covered in grease, not sugar. They didn’t taste bad, but the women insisted on giving us quite a large portion, so I wrapped most of it up for the little chipmunks residing in the temples. We walked through the ruins of a bazaar outside of Achyutaraya Temple (also known as Tiruvengalanatha Temple) first. It was quiet compared to the rest of India. Few tourists walked through, hawkers weren’t present, and monkeys seemed to keep to themselves. (I think they had enough drama going on actually- they were quite territorial with each other, which was fun to watch!)

Before we went into Vitthala temple, a teacher asked to take his picture with us. He handed his camera over to his students and stood in between me and Andrew for a shot. Afterwards, the girls asked for their own photo. Aren’t they beautiful? I am so envious of how colorful their “school” clothes are compared to my Catholic school girl grey uniform.

I mostly sat in the temple and watched groups of students and tourists go by. And I fed a little chipmunk, which was equally entertaining. We could go below the temple (I’m not sure for what purpose) but it was incredibly dark. Some parts of it were pitch black. I scared a student or two because they were all excited and anxious to walk through. Haunted House style, you know? Afterwards, we went back to Hampi Bazaar and had dinner before we tried to sleep through the very loud family we were staying with. They say it’s a guesthouse, but it would be more accurate if it was labeled “home-stay” because the wall in our room didn’t reach the ceiling and it felt like we were in on every conversation, television show, and bouts of crying children in their living-room area!

Day 109: Hampi, Virupaksha Temple

Hampi was not on our list of places to see in India. And then not one, nor two, but three different people (or sets of people) said it was their favorite place in all of India (or at least of all of where they visited). We shaved a day off of Mumbai and a couple off of Goa to squeeze it in. I’m so glad we did. The town is tiny, less than ten roads that go around or form a humble dirt grid of guesthouses and restaurants. The town is somewhat smack in the middle of the ancient capital of the Vijayanagara Empire. So all around these little dirt roads are huge boulders, a beautiful river, and ancient ruins.

The empire was created in 1336 by two brothers whose main goal was to protect the area from Islamic invasions. For nearly 300 years, the kingdom of Vijayanagara prospered and ruled over the majority of the southern peninsula. Andrew bought a book on Hampi from a small business owner (he was 13. maybe. I enjoyed his small business owner sales pitch immensely) and we read up on the empire’s rise and fall and tried to figure out which ruin was which during our visit.

Our first stop was the Virupaksha Temple right outside of Hampi proper. Virupaksha is a temple dedicated to Shiva and is considered the holiest temple in and around Hampi.

We walked through, past monkeys, into underground chambers, and even a tiny dark room that had a built-in pinhole like camera where the temple appeared on the back wall upside down. And then, on our way out, it was time for our latest impromptu photo shoot.

I’m not sure why, but I’ve seen this with others, where an Indian baby is pushed into the arms of a Western tourist and the baby is so confused and scared that he or she starts crying and the tourist is embarrassed… I knew the drill. That baby wasn’t having any of it, so I just laughed and insisted it was ok that I didn’t hold her for a group picture.

I fired off a few frames of this beautiful mother and daughter. After, as usual, when I went to show her the screen, a million little fingers started pushing buttons and I couldn’t figure out what setting was changed when I could only see one of the frames I shot of her. It was stuck on a rather unflattering ‘talking’ kind of shot. You know, where someone’s mouth is open weird and it just looks silly. She was a little embarrassed, laughing it off, but when I finally figured out the changed settings and uploaded the images, I was delighted to have gotten this image! If only I could have tracked her down again to show it to her so she would be delighted as well!

One of the boys kept asking for ‘photo’ which was confusing until I realized he really wanted to take a photo himself. He was delighted when I handed over my DSLR (making sure the strap was around his neck of course) and let him take a few shots.

By this point, there was quite the crowd of amused parents and Indian tourists watching the photo shoot. Many of them laughed at the excitement (Obviously these pictures are only some of the many that were taken inside the temple walls) and warmly smiled back at me when we finally tore ourselves away and walked out. Interacting with India when it clearly does not involve an exchange of money is an entirely different ballgame. A ballgame I want to play everyday. If only…

As you can imagine, I needed a little bit of an Indian pick-me-up and Hampi was already proving to be a necessary spoonful of sugar.

Day 108: Dharavi Slum Tour

Also known as the worst day in India. But we’ll get to that later.

We wanted to go on a tour through Reality Tours and Travels (another recommendation from a friend) but we were poor planners. We thought we could book a tour on the same day when they opened at 9:30 AM and be back in time to catch our bus to Hampi. Wrong. The morning tour started at 8:00 AM. I heard great things about the tour company and slum tour, but seriously, your company opens AFTER your first tour? Fortunately, the tour company around the corner offered a morning tour starting at 10 and we were able to join, go, and be back in time to catch our bus. Also, from what Maddie (remember, her and Robert are our new cool Aussie friends from the camel trek, that we hung out with the night before?) said after they were able to book a tour with Reality, it sounds like our tours were very similar.

Ok, so Dharavi Slum along with Neza-Chalco-Itza Slum in Mexico City, and Orangi Slum in Karachi, Pakistan are the biggest slums in the world. Andrew says the slum in Karachi is currently the world’s largest- but I couldn’t find anything to back up his claim. I wasn’t necessarily picturing Slumdog Millionaire style slums on our tour, but I was still a little surprised at what we saw!

Unfortunately for my inclination to photograph everything I see and throw it up on the blog, photography wasn’t allowed on the tour. Obviously I would have liked to take pictures, but I would have felt like an idiot taking pictures in a slum alongside several other western tourists. The tour company that we went through promised to email us photographs, and kinda did… by emailing me a link to their Facebook page, which you can see here if you’re so inclined. (I thought there would be a lot more though…)

The tour began walking through some of the businesses that operate solely out of the slum. Most of these were recycling. Men sat in tiny rooms sorting garbage into different types of bins. So quickly, too. They would pick up several things at a time and toss them into different bins according to what they were. Metal ghee (clarified butter) containers were cut open to be sold back to warehouses. Metal paint buckets were put over the fire, in an effort to burn the paint off of the metal.

We walked through tiny streets, no, not streets, alleyways, but smaller than what you might imagine. Past men shredding plastic, others baking bread, some playing cards, some boiling down lard into soap, and some washing clothes. To any outsider, with no introduction, I think it comes across a bit chaotic. But even after being there for an hour, it seemed as if there was an exact method to the madness. It actually felt no different than being in a city surrounded by people going to work, enjoying a day off, or doing chores and errands.

Even though it was technically a slum. and it was dirty. and crowded, it functioned the same as any other community of people trying to make a living. This is especially apparent when you learn how much money the slum makes as a whole. How much do you think one of the largest slums in the world makes in one year? Would you be surprised if it was over one billion dollars? I was. But after we went, we saw clearly how they did it.

I found this really great NYTimes article (written last year) that dives into details of Dharavi slum that was fascinating, at least to me. Read it here.

The housing area of the slum that we walked through held even tinier alleys, just wide enough for one person to pass through. Most were more than one story tall, had open entryways and naked or scantily-clad young ones running around or shouting out “Hello!” as we walked through in single file. The alleyway was dark. I can’t imagine navigating it after the sun goes down and takes away the slivers of light that helped us see where to step and where not to. Most of the houses held women and children. lots of children. who were absolutely adorable and really made me wish I had my polaroid to hand out pictures! Mothers encouraged their children to say ‘hi’ and it was easily my favorite part of the tour, really seeing up close how people lived, but then it seemed as though it was over before I knew it and we were in a ‘clearing’ of sorts where slightly older children played with tops and younger (naked) children played in or too close to piles of garbage on the outskirts of the homes we just walked past. And then not soon after, we were walking out of the slum and back towards the station.

So you might be wondering, why was this the worst day in India? Well, let’s back the train up a little bit to before the tour, in our room in the morning. Our hotel wasn’t terrible. But it wasn’t great either. We had a lovely balcony, but we didn’t have an en suite bathroom. And the bathrooms (at least there was more than one) were on the complete opposite side of the building from our room. Because of the gang rape in Delhi, Andrew became extra protective of me going off on my own. If I was gone (to the bathroom) too long, he would come around and knock on doors until I assured him through the bathroom door that I had not been abducted by all of the men (when we arrived, it was all men. all Indian. loitering on the shared balcony) staying in the hotel. When he left our room, he would insist I lock the door behind him. Even though I rolled my eyes at times, I was glad to have him keeping an eye on me. But, what happens when he takes forever showering and I have to go to the bathroom, but don’t want to lock him out of the room, and not know where I am when he returns from his shower?

You poop your pants.

Now it’s been an on-going joke that “the worst thing that can happen is I poop my pants” on this trip – and then it happens. And obviously, it’s not the worst thing to happen. But it wasn’t pleasant either! Andrew insists I did it to make him feel better about his own accident a few weeks before. He refuses to believe me when I try to tell him that wasn’t the case AT ALL. So, I was poopy and grumpy and not very communicative with Andrew, which never does us any favors… Then on the tour, a teenage boy spit on me as our tour group walked past- just kinda out of the blue, because what was I going to do? Yell at him not to spit on me as I, a tourist, totally intruded on his life in a slum? Or yell at him for degrading a woman by spitting on her? I can’t even pinpoint my thoughts as I wiped spit off of me. How do you wrap your head around that? I think I kinda shook my head and cynically thought, “Well, at least he didn’t rape me…”

Now that we were out of Rajasthan, we had CNN in our room and free newspapers in restaurants and access to this horrible news all. the. time. It was so difficult for me to absorb. I wouldn’t get on mixed gender train cars. Andrew had a panic attack on our first Mumbai subway journey that one man gave us the wrong information just to separate us and do something terrible to me. I pooped my pants waiting for Andrew to know exactly where I was… It was just unsettling. All of it.

And then after all of the above, we went to the post office. And to make this long blog post slightly shorter, after over an hour, we found out that the shipping service I wanted moved to a different building. But, I could pay more for faster shipping home (obviously unnecessary). We were down to the wire to catch our next bus, the shipping was totally out of my budget, I simply had enough of India and lost it. I cried. I cried and I shook my finger at the postmen who told us the wrong information an hour earlier. I handed over too much money to ship my souvenir blankets home with tears streaming down my face. And then noticed the men to my left blatantly staring at me crying in the post office. Lit’rally. Like I was a television show, two men stood at the counter less than two feet away, chins practically propped up on their hands watching me cry. Obviously, that helped the situation, immensely.

I was still shedding tears as we scrambled to the metro to cross town to catch our bus to Hampi. I’m sure my eyes were red as I leaned out the door of the moving train to see if I could see Andrew on the men’s car ahead of where I was on the women’s. A sweet Indian woman sweetly scolded me, not wanting me to fall out of the moving train. She told me “it’s ok to go with your husband in the other car.” I responded that I knew, but preferred the women’s car. She smiled, knowingly and asked how I liked India. A familiar first question. To which I almost always respond positively, because as always I am grateful for the experience. But, not today…

“Sometimes I India is great, and I love it. But today, I do not. Today has not been a good day…”

Day 107: Elephanta Island

Elephanta Island was known as Gharapuri until the 17th century when the Portugese renamed it because of the huge elephant statue that stood at the base of the island. Unfortunately, the statue is no longer there (the Portugese dropped it in the sea, and now it’s in The Dr Bhau Daji lad Museum in Mumbai), but many caves full of ancient Hindu statues and reliefs still stand.

After an afternoon on the very touristy island, we had kebabs from Bademiya, a kebab stand/restaurant (Andrew would like me to tell you it’s a “Mumbai street food institution” in the heart of Colaba. The men making the flat bread let me hop in and help before we ate. (SO FUN!) But I wasn’t very good, so I didn’t stay long and instead we met up with our new friends, Robert and Maddie, from our camel safari for drinks and they coerced us into trying paan- an after dinner digestive that might not be my favorite thing to order from a street stand… But still, it was fun to try and even more fun to do with friends!

I tried to wait around to get a picture of this most famous three headed Shiva sculpture, but it proved impossible. I actually wasn’t really sure that I saw this sculpture because I tend to flee from mass amounts of tourists, which flooded the scene shortly after I took this picture. One little girl kept practicing her English, saying “EXCUSE ME!” over and over again. It was cute, and I think she wanted to be my friend, but she kept throwing me off because every time she would say it I kept moving around thinking she was right behind me and I was blocking her view!

Day 106: Colaba

Not quite finished with the book, Shantaram, I told Andrew I had to (even though I knew it would be touristy) have a coffee at Leopold’s while we were staying in Colaba. Colaba is a small part of Mumbai (or Bombay, whichever you prefer) and it’s become quite the tourist beat, or perhaps it has always been the tourist beat. The Gateway of India is here, the Causeway, The Taj Mahal Hotel, tourist boats to Elephanta Island… these main attractions sit in the middle of art museums, cricket pitches, and even old Art Deco Bollywood movie theaters. We stuck to the Causeway (basically the main street) for our first day, having breakfast at Leopold’s and then bumped into our German pal, Bastian and walked through the market, through a very non-touristy neighborhood, to the water and then back around again.

Being in Colaba felt a bit like being in Itaewon in Seoul. The streets were lined with restaurants and athletic stores and sidewalks that were covered with street stalls selling “antiques” and clothes and knock-off sunglasses on every block.

When we got to the end of the ‘tourist beat,’ we turned down a street that looked like it was a market, but a very sparse market. Perhaps it was the time of day we were walking through? Most of the food vendors had a small supply of fish or fruit left over, or perhaps it was just a slow day… Either way, we enjoyed chatting with the students who were on their way home from school demanding to know our names and requesting pictures. I teased them (but was hoping they would take me more seriously than I sounded) that I would only take ONE photo. They all agreed and for the first time dispersed after I took and showed the image on my screen to them.

Near the market area, on our way out, we stumbled upon a religious celebration of sorts. It was a god’s birthday, but it was so hard to hear and there was so much festivity going on, that it wasn’t the easiest to get details nailed down. It was fun and loud and I was a little bit jealous of all of the yellow tikka powder (or maybe even masala powder?) being dumped on each other. We were encouraged to take pictures, but didn’t stay long, as to not intrude any more than we already were.

Day 105: another overnight bus

The only thing I wanted to do was return to the Marionette shop and buy a dancing princess. The day before when I dropped in and asked for prices, they didn’t seem high and I thought I could get them even lower. When we went back, the shop was full of men (not the woman I spoke to the day before) and the prices nearly tripled. It was fun to see the back room full of fancy marionettes and see them dance, and as much as I wanted the dancing princess, I couldn’t pay triple for one. Thankfully, another small shop had fair prices and even if they didn’t have an elaborate dancing princess, they did have a marionette horse that made up for it!

We wanted to take a train to Mumbai. It would have been faster, but all of the trains were full, so we had to take another overnight bus. We almost didn’t make it. Some of the overnight buses park in random places and our rickshaw driver had no idea where it was. After, of course, we piled into his rickshaw and had been on the road for ten minutes or so… It was also the slowest rickshaw in all of India. He stopped for directions a few times, thought he took us to the correct place, only to find no bus. When we got back into his rickshaw,

he asked: When is your bus?

we responded: 6:30

driver: Ohhh very big problem! And what time is it now?

Andrew: 6:31

driver: Ohhh very big problem!

Luckily, the bus was still there. I have no idea how we made it. And it turned out to be the nicest bus we’ve been on yet!

Day 104: City Palace, Udaipur

After a visit to Jagdish Temple, we headed to City Palace, Udaipur! Udaipur used to be the captial of Mewar. It’s the largest in Rajasthan, and its designs felt over the top and luxurious, and I know we didn’t even see the entire complex!

Jagdish Temple is pretty much right next to one of the major intersections in Udaipur. The temple is also so compact that it was difficult to get any pictures in its entirety, but it was a nice respite to flee from the busy little surrounding streets.

Not far from the temple, was The City Palace. It’s actually right up the street, and after we skipped Jodhpur’s City Palace/Hotel, I was curious to see what this City Palace – THE thing to do in Udaipur- was all about. The fees to get into the City Palace, Udaipur were a little bit outrageous. One of our pet peeves of India are the fees that are always tacked on. The camera fee for The City Palace was almost as much as the fee to get into! Andrew and I decided we were going to take pictures like CRAZY to make up for it, but I won’t bore you with all of them!

The palace was fancy, but very crowded. I think there were a few field trips going on because we would sometimes find a courtyard or a room filling up with middle school-aged boys and Andrew and I would sneak away before it turned into another impromptu photo shoot. (Which are super fun when it’s a handful of children, but very different when it’s an entire school!)

These boys chased us down when we walked out of the palace for a picture. (I have to say I was relieved we managed to get through the entire palace with only ONE photo like this!)

Day 103: asleep in Udaipur

Did I mention we were exhausted? Because we were. Sleep, hot water, laundry services, internet… These are a few of my favorite things. The first guesthouse we went to promised all of the above, so we stayed, and mostly, were able to have or do all of the above. Asleep in Udaipur, that’s what our first day was all about.

Day 102: waking up in a desert

Waking up in a desert is cold. Running down a sand dune to make it back to your mattress in time for the self-timer on your camera is a lot harder than you might think. Realizing the saddle on your camel is a little lopsided makes the ride a full out work-out. The whole day was slightly askew, in a wonderful, but sometimes uncomfortable way. The whole night (all 18 hours of it) on a bus to Udaipur was not as wonderful. At least we weren’t sharing our sleeper cabin for two with two other people! At least we had baked goods to snack on. At least our window opened AND closed. (This is what optimism in India sounds like.)

Nearly all of us on the camel safari were heading out of the city at some point in the afternoon or evening. We would run into each other in the city buying souvenirs and having a third coffee or juice just to give us something to do. Little did we know, Andrew and I would be getting on the very worst bus ride yet.

I can assure you that I am not elaborating. Because at our first delay, I didn’t flinch (ok, maybe I did a little) when heavy parcels were being thrown onto the top of the bus. At our second delay, around one in the morning, I figured they would fix the bus soon, or the one person we were waiting for would arrive, regardless we would be on our way. And I fell asleep. Around three in the morning, Andrew nudged me awake, we hadn’t moved, another bus had arrived for us to get on instead. At our third delay, I opened up the window to the countryside. A tree and rocks, not a road were right outside my window. Other travelers opened up their windows. The Israeli in the cabin in front of our cabin, yelled at the men trying to fix the problem (of not being on a road!) by shoving rocks under the wheels that were not budging.

It. was. ridiculous.

We don’t know if they were avoiding roads with tolls… or maybe it had something to do with the heavy parcels on top of the bus that they didn’t want to get caught with… or maybe the heavy parcels weighed the bus down so much that it didn’t matter what kind of road we were driving on, it would be a problem… or maybe the combination of all of the buses we’ve been on in India are so old- too old- that they shouldn’t be on the road?

It still could have been worse. We could have been in the sleeper compartment the Korean girl was in with a window that wouldn’t close. She woke up at some point in the middle of the night without her bag. (It fell out of the window while she was sleeping) Apparently her passport was in that bag. We rolled into Udaipur around 9 or 10 in the morning, exhausted, to say the least. But, it could have been worse.

Day 101: a camel safari

Some friends of mine highly recommended going on a camel safari while we were in Rajasthan. It seemed as if the place to do it was in Jaisalmer, so that’s where we went. We walked through Jaisalmer Fort in the morning, and then left for our camel safari by the afternoon. As always, my friends know best. The camel safari was grand. It was the perfect amount of time on a camel (any longer and we would have all been walking funny), there was awesome food (prepared over an open fire in the desert), really great company, and a meteor shower to make sleeping under the stars absolutely perfect.

Jaisalmer Fort differs from the others that we’ve visited in India in that there are around two thousand people currently living within the fort walls. Unfortunately, because of an increase in water consumption (a lot of this is due to tourism and more specifically, tourists staying within the fort walls) the foundation of the fort is eroding away. We read many warnings against contributing to the erosion, and didn’t intend to buy anything within the walls as a small effort to discourage the growth of tourism within the fort… But I failed when I found another blanket I HAD to have right inside the first gate! I know, I know, not cool. And I wasn’t going to, but then I did…

The fort feels like a tiny city. A tiny touristy city. But a little bit more laid back without the buzz of the city streets outside of the walls. We walked through the shops and outside palaces within the walls and even took cover with a herd of cattle while it rained. The view from the walls with cannons was beautiful, but I was amazed at how much litter was strewn on the other side. It was quite different from how well maintained Meherangarh Fort was in Jodhpur, or Agra Fort in Agra.

Our camel safari started with a jeep ride out of Jaisalmer to the abandoned- a ghost village of Kuldara about 25 km west of the city. In 1825, 84 Brahmin Villages were abandoned in just one night. Our guide, Aniket (Mr. Desert Junior) told us (from my understanding) that the British opened up Mumbai to trade, therefore the Silk Road was no longer used to the same extent. The ruling maharajah at the time insisted on keeping taxes over the villages the same, even though these villages full of people dependent on the Silk Road were not making nearly enough to make ends meet. So, they left. They only took what they could carry and in one single night, all 84 villages were abandoned and it’s a mystery as to where they went. Aniket confirmed that absolutely no one knows where they landed- if they relocated in India or in another country.

After the ghost town visit, it was time for CAMELS! I thought mine (in the two pictures below) looked rather amiable, and then I climbed on, and she wasn’t (I think it was a ‘she’) as content. At least she didn’t sneeze on me. Because that happened. By the German dude’s camel. And it was gross. As my sister Becca has said before (it happened to her when she was 2 or 3 years old) “The camel ‘neezed on me!” I tried to explain it to the German dude, but he didn’t really get it…

Ok, so I thought it was going to be more sand-duney. And I would have to fight the urge to jump off of my camel to make sand angels. Or something like that. And I was surprised that there were still electric lines running through the desert. I kinda thought we would be a little more removed, but it was still cool. It was very cool. We were on the camels in a line for about an hour and a half (maybe two?) as we made our way to the dunes where we were going to eat and camp out for the night. Andrew was at the rear of the group and chatted with the German dude’s parents about life in Korea, while I talked to the German dude directly behind me about life in India (where he currently lives).

We got to the sand dunes right around dusk, but there wasn’t much of a sunset. We all climbed up a dune for the view and then ambled our way back to the blankets and fire that was being set up for us while we waited for dinner. Dinner, completely prepared from scratch in the sand was amazing. Better than that. It was dark by the time we were served heaping plates of rice, roti, and curry. We could barely see what we were eating, but it was delicious.

Around the fire, Aniket talked of his father, Mr. Desert, the one who founded the company, Sahara Travels. He’s famous in Rajasthan, to say the least. But I’ll let Aniket tell you all about him when you go on your camel safari. Some of the group left after dinner, some went to bed under the stars soon after that, Andrew and I stayed up with our new Aussie friends chatting about our adventures in India and elsewhere.

We started seeing shooting stars and realized we picked the perfect night to sleep under the stars. Mattresses were arranged in a circle with heavy blankets folded on top. We all slipped off our shoes and crawled under the covers to get warm. Deserts are COLD at night! And then I fell asleep with only my eyes peeking out of the covers trying to stay open to see all of the stars falling towards us.

Day 100: Bishnoi Village Safari

Advertisements and posters or even paintings on guesthouse walls for Bishnoi Village Safari tours were everywhere in Jodhpur. Having read about it in our ‘Rough Guide,’ I thought it would be a nice break from our sightseeing routine in the cities on our route through Rajasthan. And it was. It wasn’t the most intense ”safari,” but it was a lovely break. It was also a great change of pace from the rickshaw grind, instead we climbed into the back of a jeep and were whisked from one stop to the next.

The Bishnois, as my ‘Rough Guide’ describes, “are among the world’s earliest tree-huggers.” In 1485, there was a drought. A guru decided this was caused by deforestation and came up with 29 rules for how to live in harmony with nature. Rules include vegetarianism, not cutting down any trees, and more. Basically they were the first vegans.

In 1730, the maharaja of Marwar sent workers to Khejadali (a small Bishnoi village) to cut down kherjri trees (the most sacred tree to the Bishnois) to use to burn limestone for a palace. A Bishnoi woman, Amrita Devi hugged one of the kherjri trees and told the men sent by the maharaja that if they cut the tree down, they’d have to take her head with it. The men decapitated her. Her three daughters followed suit, hugging trees, and losing their heads. Word spread and the Bishnois from surrounding villages united and hugged 363 trees. (Or so it’s said) All 363 lost their lives trying to protect the sacred trees.

When the maharaja found out, he stopped the fighting and banned cutting down trees and killing animals in the Bishnoi villages. The trees, that you see above are some of those that were saved so many years ago by the Bishnois and it’s the first stop on the Bishnoi Village safari. A road is paved through the trees and there’s a small monument at one end, but it’s nothing fancy.

The second stop was a wildlife observatory where we were handed binoculars to see ‘black bucks’ as they were described to us. I was more fascinated watching the women hunt for cow pies around the water reservoir. The cow droppings are used for fuel. In Nepal, a woman walked past us in the street carrying a steaming pile. Lit’rally. Steaming. Andrew said he watched her pick it up right after the cow had left it there. I think the Indian women had a better idea, collecting it after it was dried. Much better too, for when it goes on top of your head to carry it home!

We had read that some of the places we were going to felt a bit like a trip to a shop where the driver gets commission. I can see how it would have felt like that, if our guide, Push, was not so adamant that we didn’t have to buy anything we didn’t want! Instead, I made a pot, and admired very pretty sheets- that I definitely wanted, but didn’t have any room for.

After the pottery and printmaking shop visits, we went to a carpet maker’s house. Now obviously, if I didn’t have room for a sheet or two, I most definitely didn’t have room for a carpet. But. The carpet maker was probably my favorite to talk to. I’m sad I don’t have a photo of him, and the video where he was talking about how auspicious the day 12/12/12 decided to focus on Andrew’s knee instead…

The carpet maker had an air of artist-meets-professor-meets-astrologer (or something like that) about him and as Andrew said later, “He really liked the word auspicious!” He was right though. It WAS auspicious that it was our 100th day on 12/12/12. We all agreed and smiled at our good fortune.

Towards the end of the Bishnoi village safari, we went to a Bishnoi village house where we were given sesame treats, played with puppies, and watched an opium tea ceremony. I kinda thought we would get to partake in the opium tea ceremony, but as Andrew said later, “They bogarted the tea!”

Our last stop was to another family’s house where we ate a traditional Bishnoi meal, and I made the faux pas of eating with my left hand. The men laughed and shrugged it off, but I sat on my left hand for the rest of the meal. (You see, the right hand is for eating, and the left is for ‘unsavory functions’ like bathroom and cleaning obligations.) Somehow, this little rule slipped through my fingers for the first two weeks of our trip through India!

If you’re interested in a Bishnoi Village safari, I recommend going through Jodhpur Safari and specifically asking for Push! He was great to talk to throughout the trip and wasn’t phased when I asked him personal questions about him, his family, and India in general!

After the Bishnoi Village safari, we grabbed our bags and made for another bus- this time to Jaisalmer.

Day 99: Meherangarh Fort and Jaswant Thanda

Meherangarh (pronounced Meh-ren-gey. usually.) Fort is pretty unavoidable if you reach Jodhpur. It towers over the city and makes for a beautiful view in both the day and at night with it all lit up. We read that the 2+ hour audio tour was worth it, so we climbed up to the entrance from the city below and spent an entire afternoon at the fort. There were cannon marks on the walls still visible from battles with the army of Jaipur. There was a magnificent view of the blue houses of the Brahmin Caste. A huge museum. And then there was a short walk over to Jaswant Thanda; a memorial to the ruler Jaswant Singh II, who protected Jodhpur and introduced programs to keep its inhabitants employed.

Walking up to the fort was one thing, as it towers 400 feet above the rest of the city. Walking through the gates into the fort was another. Seven had been constructed to celebrate victories over other armies attacking the fort. It proved to be rather indestructable. Pretty incredible for a fort that was built starting in 1459! Although this construction was began by Rao Jodha (founder of Jodhpur) most of the fort’s completion was supervised within the period of Jaswant Singh from 1638 to 1678.

The audio tour was incredibly interesting. I’m not usually one to do a tour like that, but not only did it feature the history of the fort, but also details about life inside, and of the court (royalty) themselves. Gaj Singh was the last living Maharajah of Jodhpur – until 1952 until these powers were abolished by India in 1971. He spoke on the audio tour of what he remembered of being enthroned at only four years old, and his childhood inside the court. If you go to Meherangarh, pay the (slightly outrageous) fee for the tour! It’s worth it!

A lot of the rooms were preserved and if you couldn’t walk through them, you could stand at a window or a door to peek in and see what life was like. Some were more grand than others. I liked this chamber, Gaj Singh’s father (Maharaja Takhat Singh) was the last ruler to reside in the fort. This room, Takhat Vilas, was noted to be a blend of the traditional India with the modern British style. I quite liked the Christmas-like ornaments that hung from the ceiling!

Ok, so maybe I was a little obsessed with the blue houses. Can you blame me? They are beautiful, no?

If you’re curious why there are so many dotting the city, the blue is a result of the Brahmin caste in the Hindu Religion differentiating themselves and cooling their houses under the hot desert sun. I’ve become really intrigued by the caste system here in India. While I think there is something of an underlying system in America, the clear-cut system and the rules and observances behind the caste system in India is interesting to someone like myself who was raised to hear that I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up… I digress. I also learned that certain colors are associated with certain castes. Brahmin’s is blue. They are intellectuals. The word Brahma directly refers to a creative aspect of the universal consciousness.

After the lengthly audio tour and afternoon inside the fort, we walked over the little ridge to check out Jaswant Thanda. It was a nice memorial to walk around, but there wasn’t as much information at the site. Not that there necessarily needs to be more information on a burial grounds… but I suppose my curiosity always gets the best of me and it would have been nice to know which members of the family were represented by the cenotaphs that had been constructed. We ran into our new German friend from the bus into the city, Bastian, and walked around the grounds while chatting of our mornings and admiring more of the view of Jodhpur.

After, Andrew and I were going to go across town to the palace/hotel but gave up when the rickshaw driver demanded an exorbitant fee and by the time we got him down to our ideal fee, we lost interest in the trip altogether. We walked back down to the city below, past children demanding “One photo!” and goats in sweaters before having a rooftop dinner and view of Meherangarh Fort and Jaswant Thanda at night.

Day 98: a walk through Sardar Market in Jodhpur

We left Pushkar around nine in the morning, and arrived in Jodhpur around three in the afternoon. It wasn’t a terribly long journey and riding a bus through the countryside made me wish I was on motorcycle so I could stop and take pictures whenever I wanted… The land was peaceful and its occasional inhabitants would wave and shout “Hello!” when they recognized you weren’t Indian. We made a friend (Bastian, from Germany) and when our bus arrived to Jodhpur, the three of us crammed into a rickshaw and found a guesthouse within the old walls of ‘The Blue City.’

Tired, but not wanting to give into the temptations of a nap so late in the afternoon, Andrew and I went for a walk around Sardar Market in Jodhpur. We walked through it to get to our guesthouse, and while it was not as intense as the markets of Jaipur, it was still full of bangles and saris and fruit stand upon fruit stand. I’m always a fan of walking through a market, but I have to admit, I was looking forward to going to sleep early, and so we didn’t stay out too terribly long. We tried to track down some internet to catch up on emails and blog posts, but it proved to be impossible, so I drowned my internet woes in a chocolate milkshake and fell asleep soon after.