tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58134669275694729992024-03-14T09:28:00.795-07:00Over the Hills and Far Away...to IndiaGrahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-23238220947737397682009-05-01T17:22:00.000-07:002009-05-01T17:47:22.946-07:00Exhale: A Return HomeAs I look around me, I’m surrounding by walls decorated with letters, numbers, animals and globes and with the American flag in the opposite corner of the room. The classroom, more specifically, has affirmed the simple fact that life has again drastically changed in my return back to the United States. For the first time in nearly 5 months, I’m feeling that sense of familiarity and ease and life seems eerily similar to the way it was before I left the United States, substitute teaching elementary school kids, in between things. But of course this time is different and I feel like I’ve experienced a lifetime since I left back in December. As I took the attendance of the class I was teaching this morning, my attention was piqued as I came to a certain student. Krishna, an unmistakable Indian name, has effectively sent my thoughts adrift, back to just a few weeks prior when day to day life was starkly different.<br /><br />I’d like to first of all apologize to all of you loyal followers and fans of the blog for my lack of output towards the end of my trip. As I look back to my blog page, I can’t believe my latest entry was February 24th, before I left for my volunteering! Wow, seems like eons ago! I have a couple of excuses, however unjustified they might be. One is that my volunteering project did not completely go as planned and as a result had me a bit stressed. Partially related, is simply the residual effects of extended travel in the extremities of a paradoxical culture such as India, that tend to wear on a person whose intentions are to live a life somewhere in the middle. I hit the proverbial wall and for these reasons, criticisms began to emerge that I felt needed time for <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JQsawCkyEp2OmNSgJ-iGs7q9r-3t80wji07iK5F8V0y_5OA5wTV6fdEgNOgzE6uNsX2PRVowBxm10mGYG1V2UBUUSFyXWM_e9-augQtTwVlgJ9Sh-71DwDQg1EcXyRocBibrwbqLrrM/s1600-h/Trip's+Final+Pics+014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331019967625936386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JQsawCkyEp2OmNSgJ-iGs7q9r-3t80wji07iK5F8V0y_5OA5wTV6fdEgNOgzE6uNsX2PRVowBxm10mGYG1V2UBUUSFyXWM_e9-augQtTwVlgJ9Sh-71DwDQg1EcXyRocBibrwbqLrrM/s320/Trip's+Final+Pics+014.jpg" border="0" /></a>pondering. Also, this period was the start of my travel with a companion, when I’d gotten very comfortable travelling by my self. I simply didn’t have the alone time I enjoyed before. So, for a guy who requires significant thought and time to articulate his crazy little world, this environment was not compatible for positive, quality writing. So I took some time. A LOT of time!<br /><br />I’ll try to bring you all up to speed on how the final chapter of the trip turned out by starting with where I left off, my volunteering project. Choosing where I would volunteer was difficult, but it appeared Dakshinayan had most of what I was looking for at a price I could afford (unbeknownst to me, volunteering overseas can be quite expensive). It appeared to be a small, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1Gtp5NkMK5IRTbxpJ8LdwwACsCZ80fZCbIGIw1j1qqi7RpfhOHTGkDZtjC_p-NqSXXY5RZaCLPHZ_1AhSrtErwr5zDIe4k4L_kULSG3j19ttti4iFxysHg22Jn91qHYfgwvGqJd9AiQ/s1600-h/Trip's+Final+Pics+075.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331019978548216130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1Gtp5NkMK5IRTbxpJ8LdwwACsCZ80fZCbIGIw1j1qqi7RpfhOHTGkDZtjC_p-NqSXXY5RZaCLPHZ_1AhSrtErwr5zDIe4k4L_kULSG3j19ttti4iFxysHg22Jn91qHYfgwvGqJd9AiQ/s320/Trip's+Final+Pics+075.jpg" border="0" /></a>grassroots organization with its goals set on making a positive and sustainable impact on the multiple communities involved. Another aspect it appeared to contain, which was very important to me, was significant volunteer/community interaction within those communities. And equally important, was again, a reasonable fee, in which my money, for the most part, was not being put towards any kind of large-scale advertising or to an organization trying to expand beyond their capabilities, which appears to happen all too often, losing sight of the what’s important. Everything seemed to “check-out”, right down the line.<br /><br />What I was not aware of, however, was that the website, which showed what life might be like for a volunteer at Dakshinayan, was grossly outdated and the project’s mission had shrunk in both capacity and integrity. That volunteer/community interaction that appeared so prevalent <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PFsJuEdQTwYVY_HithmIWmMvKXPrcdoslb9DSzyem5JfzLuy03XPSxXXnd6FdQvay7Qv4Op2uLnCBEjqCpfV51PvlBuDbB4pNYYgBbuvKQ-F3c0IpxeFyQynZw4lbKvXl-RwwaMQWzs/s1600-h/Trip's+Final+Pics+036.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331019975582402018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PFsJuEdQTwYVY_HithmIWmMvKXPrcdoslb9DSzyem5JfzLuy03XPSxXXnd6FdQvay7Qv4Op2uLnCBEjqCpfV51PvlBuDbB4pNYYgBbuvKQ-F3c0IpxeFyQynZw4lbKvXl-RwwaMQWzs/s320/Trip's+Final+Pics+036.jpg" border="0" /></a>on the website turned out to be, for all intents and purposes, forbidden outside of teaching the local children inside the project’s, perhaps ½ square mile, brick walled confines during the mornings 6 days a week. This left a LOT of free time…in the walled confines. The afternoons/evenings and remaining free days were to be spent inside or within site of the project walls. When inquiring about exploring the local cultures and environment that I was so eagerly interested in, I was made to believe that the local culture had nothing to offer and that the villages were not fit for foreigners. End of story! I felt a deliberate attempt to be barred from the local goings-on and vice versa and a real contempt for the communities being served here. So, to keep occupied outside of reading 6 books in the 3 weeks I was there, an hour and half of yoga and an hour run each day, I was forced to, in <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1gxS8D7HrF20o8lb35hWiabkPl8YFmCKWz2EnVWI8m24NKg9CEi2M3fE7MJLQAUGMrmnwVGp-6uL8UQzUOLcg7eUUCbpBLcG1kuYth4n7rL1jSaXYzVqSVFWVSgQvtxDMVKf4xvXFAc/s1600-h/Trip's+Final+Pics+091.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331019987344688994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1gxS8D7HrF20o8lb35hWiabkPl8YFmCKWz2EnVWI8m24NKg9CEi2M3fE7MJLQAUGMrmnwVGp-6uL8UQzUOLcg7eUUCbpBLcG1kuYth4n7rL1jSaXYzVqSVFWVSgQvtxDMVKf4xvXFAc/s320/Trip's+Final+Pics+091.jpg" border="0" /></a>a sense, sneak out of the area to experience real-life, rural India in the local villages. What I found was the loving interactions of a vivid local culture for which I was searching. The locals were an incredibly beautiful, curious and kind people. It’s these memories, along with the time spent with the wonderful children that I will remember fondly.<br /><br />Unfortunately, the problems didn’t stop there. Without getting into too much detail, I’ll just say that there were issues that, in my opinion, bordered on caste inequalities regarding the director’s treatment of his teachers/servant boys, exhibitions of power, intimidation and fear tactics towards the children including observed physical violence. And life at the project outside of teaching was not unsurprisingly frustrating. I did my best to fit in by helping with chores, starting projects and melding into the small group <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9sQGEvXjTzq9HnCFJlijDsgSehyphenhyphenbzZ96nndqtLpSJ98aAkylFjKJX8AgrSbD9VsPefT73z9eOc_ldE4rN8PdmWRriKP7ngIn8j0Yj29NFo7-RwFV9o2sCuvBN3-dxRcIj3Qap38fsA8/s1600-h/Trip's+Final+Pics+105.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331019982742113042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9sQGEvXjTzq9HnCFJlijDsgSehyphenhyphenbzZ96nndqtLpSJ98aAkylFjKJX8AgrSbD9VsPefT73z9eOc_ldE4rN8PdmWRriKP7ngIn8j0Yj29NFo7-RwFV9o2sCuvBN3-dxRcIj3Qap38fsA8/s320/Trip's+Final+Pics+105.jpg" border="0" /></a>that included the project director, two other local teachers and a cook, but was met with an exclusive attitude that eventually left me feeling very unappreciated. And so it was one fine Sunday afternoon when a friend of the director happened to catch me mingling in town that I was subsequently reminded that I was to have nothing to do with the nearby village life. It turned out to be the straw that broke the camels back and I then made the decision that it was time to leave the project one week earlier than planned.<br /><br />I’m still fumbling a bit with what to think about how that experience played out. Was I being too stubborn, too hard-headed in my ways? Too selfish? Is there such a thing as living too idealistic? Too rigid or too uncompromising? After having two months with which to think about it, I’ve come to two conclusions; one, my reasons for leaving are justified and I’ve accepted that, and two, the guilt of leaving the kids earlier than I needed still remains. Ah, and so is the paradox of India…<br /><br />Wanting to get SOMETHING on the blog page while another entry once again comes sputtering forth longer than intended, I’m going to post this guy before I pause and slack another month away. I sure hope it’s not that long before I wash my hands with “Over The Hills and Far Away…to India”. At least 2 more blogs should be on the way to wind ‘er up! Then, another extended writer’s sabbatical notwithstanding, I’m proud to announce the summer’s blog of an inevitably action-packed journey up to our nation’s last frontier in Alaska, “Into the Alaskan Wild”. Until next time, I hope this entry finds everyone tip-toeing through the spring tulips, at the ball parks and cheering on our beloved Bulls to pull off a game 7 in Boston tomorrow night! GO BULLS!Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-55829042845490008822009-02-24T03:49:00.000-08:002009-02-24T04:34:35.383-08:00A Little Slice of Heaven on Earth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58vOKIubQrVlO8puDt4c29TmwjZ899DtZkAxDxxpgB5N033hYpRqsbMGwZDklIc5uNCXa3hQhu2sdFpn7wYpduVZYpFqMiqGS3j2bvemEUA3o0r95oNPaHAWo4oubckyjn2e1BnvPC10/s1600-h/Sikkim+154.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306332623748803410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58vOKIubQrVlO8puDt4c29TmwjZ899DtZkAxDxxpgB5N033hYpRqsbMGwZDklIc5uNCXa3hQhu2sdFpn7wYpduVZYpFqMiqGS3j2bvemEUA3o0r95oNPaHAWo4oubckyjn2e1BnvPC10/s320/Sikkim+154.jpg" border="0" /></a>A place where preservation and conservation trumps expendability, humility is carried out with a smile and grace, transportation is largely by foot, the landscape is green, the rivers aqua-blue and where silence is greatly relished; this is Sikkim. So far away from the more southern 99% of India, it may as well be a whole new world. Devoting much of my trip to culture and lesson in sociology, I had missed this eco-travel, the natural way that’s been so imperative in my life. What a pleasure was this anomaly in a country so lacking that in which Sikkim is thriving!<br /><br />A small protrusion in north central India, the state of Sikkim is a geographical crossroads that borders Nepal to its west, Tibet to its north, Bhutan to its east and the rest of Hindu India to its south. The rest of India is added to this list due its starkly contradicting make-up of religion, values and personality and as previously mentioned, may as well be its very own country (or at least added to one of the others).<br /><br />Spending a few days in Darjeeling, obtaining a needed permit for Sikkim and regrouping after a long deluge of Varanasi and travel, it became apparent that this small portion of the country was different. Darjeeling was <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHK7Id1mCDInRLtB5PTphSk6cYiIb93PvL1RjBFQ9S7waz8-hO65yTGKzD90cuUgR_A3POFOLEllyq0QLZs9QdFfclsIUSOB30mtbXJNd-0zl3-Er1mNFvkjeIDSwfPlCs_Rx9Wnkb42U/s1600-h/Sikkim+187.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306332634254183922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHK7Id1mCDInRLtB5PTphSk6cYiIb93PvL1RjBFQ9S7waz8-hO65yTGKzD90cuUgR_A3POFOLEllyq0QLZs9QdFfclsIUSOB30mtbXJNd-0zl3-Er1mNFvkjeIDSwfPlCs_Rx9Wnkb42U/s320/Sikkim+187.jpg" border="0" /></a>incredibly quiet, much cleaner and I wasn’t hassled at all for my business. Much of this had to do with its relative affluence compared to most of the India I’ve seen, but also their way of life. The more north you travel, the more, well, Buddhism you sense, both physically, with the gompas (Buddhist temples), monasteries and traditional Buddhist garb, but also their values of respecting the land, all living things and each other, their calm, controlled demeanor, and just their refuge to the beautiful, hard to reach places. Also, this area has seen much migration from Tibet, due to China’s imperialistic bullying, errrr, I mean, conflict with China, and Nepal from their largely corrupt government. These countries are synonymous with Buddhism.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmeacM3SBKDSQKGT2d12rB_NX1aZCYNMMVtAoKzQgt1qg0HGsoSdID0b0wk66Fuugu9jRIPGgBz74UdpBNFRM2C0CweRfM3k6fzYP8wWQP-hy-mC8OxJ3OK1Rer3Zqp6bOI5QnF1hhTA/s1600-h/Sikkim+206.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306332633362747266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmeacM3SBKDSQKGT2d12rB_NX1aZCYNMMVtAoKzQgt1qg0HGsoSdID0b0wk66Fuugu9jRIPGgBz74UdpBNFRM2C0CweRfM3k6fzYP8wWQP-hy-mC8OxJ3OK1Rer3Zqp6bOI5QnF1hhTA/s320/Sikkim+206.jpg" border="0" /></a>In Sikkim, due to it’s rugged up and down travel through the Himalayan foothills, travel is by foot or jeep. So, my first day of travel was to Sikkim’s tourist hotspot, Pelling by a breathtaking jeep ride through untouched forests and waterfalls, getting a quick idea of how incredible this week was going to be. Pelling has gotten its tourist reputation due to the magnificent views of Mount Khangchendzonga (8598 meters), the world’s third <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglgLmhQgTD8RoMvvwjIlLgW6P1ijr3QNuCpm5YKoHM4GqORH4YTnZoqmOGDuus4mSYeJt2xAU3PGv4dWtGjSTVzGJoL4EuI0vUA7feGP08MFKvmP-m9vQ29ZdbVRLObiyRCDtVYoMRX3E/s1600-h/Sikkim+175.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306332627141007682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglgLmhQgTD8RoMvvwjIlLgW6P1ijr3QNuCpm5YKoHM4GqORH4YTnZoqmOGDuus4mSYeJt2xAU3PGv4dWtGjSTVzGJoL4EuI0vUA7feGP08MFKvmP-m9vQ29ZdbVRLObiyRCDtVYoMRX3E/s320/Sikkim+175.jpg" border="0" /></a>tallest mountain! I checked into another lovely, local guesthouse with what would have been an amazing view on the beast, but, as is common in the winter, the views were non-existent due to cloud cover. The next day I awoke and was determined to view the 2 beautiful monasteries in the area. The first was up the ridge to Sangachoeling Gompa where the views down to Pelling were magnificent the setting wonderfully serene. There I <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTu2_0xFkGwvytf2xJc_3MLgkW4ZTWzRi3XS1n9CLj_YERzPrfIU0xOp0O-zs05bhhwMEhZM6RrxGvNUdK7tqhiEPtJ65ZEc-xHv446P6IF914FyJx9mtkoBjfqPBtq2n1-6UHKjqf08/s1600-h/Sikkim+178.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306332628408929522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTu2_0xFkGwvytf2xJc_3MLgkW4ZTWzRi3XS1n9CLj_YERzPrfIU0xOp0O-zs05bhhwMEhZM6RrxGvNUdK7tqhiEPtJ65ZEc-xHv446P6IF914FyJx9mtkoBjfqPBtq2n1-6UHKjqf08/s320/Sikkim+178.jpg" border="0" /></a>met with a couple of Argentinians that were in my jeep and ended up trekking with them and a local to some meditation caves higher still on the same ridge. The habitat is not what you’d expect in the Himalayan foothills. It’s very reminiscent of high jungle or cloud forest habitat, with tall trees and bamboo everywhere. It was just stunning and felt completely untouched and pure. Later that evening we hiked down from that ridge to a small village where local families were busy tilling their gardens with their cows and preening their cardamom crops.<br /><br />Not getting any views from Darjeeling or Pelling the previous night, I realized it was a good possibility that I would not see what many come to Sikkim to see, glorious Khangchenzonga. Luckily I was wrong and the beast reared its formidable stature that next morning and most of the afternoon. As you could imagine, I instantly became very camera happy!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1WmYC6fZabvO9SaO7QitHA1XPN6rLzw9_9RXtoMXvlqcNlXeTSGeAIp1LzV2ee3_WZ8tiNcJBdLWeZQtVRL8JlhI-uCSZKxqfsY9oQdXSbuW5SgwQxzy7kawomsyvS8ZoGdtcXC258A/s1600-h/Sikkim+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306330991141546834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1WmYC6fZabvO9SaO7QitHA1XPN6rLzw9_9RXtoMXvlqcNlXeTSGeAIp1LzV2ee3_WZ8tiNcJBdLWeZQtVRL8JlhI-uCSZKxqfsY9oQdXSbuW5SgwQxzy7kawomsyvS8ZoGdtcXC258A/s320/Sikkim+013.jpg" border="0" /></a>A very holy lake to the local Buddhists was next on my itinerary, Khecheopalri Lake. A girl from my guesthouse in Darjeeling had told me if I go to the lake to make sure that I hike up to the small monastery above the lake to a beautiful village where there’s a very primitive guesthouse with delicious food. It sounded right up my alley and it turned out to be one of the highlights of my whole trip. This village had once of the most idyllic settings amongst gorgeous, lush landscape on top of a ridge, children gleefully prancing about through rich, colorful gardens, everyone working hard with gigantic smiles on their faces and loving life. What a place to spend a day and what a generous and kind family where the Bhutia’s and the most delicious food I’ve had in India to date.<br /><br />Mr. Bhutia informed me about a gompa on a lookout higher above the lake that I could hike to the next day, before trekking to Yuksom, the small village and trekking base to Khangchenzonga. Another impressive view from high above the lake was had, then the trek led <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5jO7VpvyRJNYSmxezgyaTE8ixP8fvPUJl8I0cWcwORTBbqAXDSZWuLtOHYc5OVN875h5pf9vAuZJdzNZ93dVIpRUH_b-QViMaZYTXDY79u68vpgCLFwbKv_F2dJZjB5vD3BNvCghPAM/s1600-h/Sikkim+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306330991787836514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5jO7VpvyRJNYSmxezgyaTE8ixP8fvPUJl8I0cWcwORTBbqAXDSZWuLtOHYc5OVN875h5pf9vAuZJdzNZ93dVIpRUH_b-QViMaZYTXDY79u68vpgCLFwbKv_F2dJZjB5vD3BNvCghPAM/s320/Sikkim+029.jpg" border="0" /></a>all the way down the valley though several villages of terraced farmland and what I kept thinking as meticulously laid stone steps and Tolkien-esque hobbit paths spanning thousands of feet all the way down to the river valley, before climbing back up a gazillion more steps to Yuksom.<br /><br />While grabbing tea and dinner in Yuksom after a very long day of trekking, I ran into a couple of guys from London who’d been trekking in the area the entire previous week, imploring me to trek the first leg of the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfxRq6Octjy5dL973fj2uQXjQB0V3GYwxEKoGyC-fSRWcInrf7DpSpDF6ShRjECfUlDgJDO1tk01kVcpSHPfmG_aGUL_vTuudjtWObkZdLyb3CBrpDYvpfLHOE856KUQhLCDaY2d2i5I/s1600-h/Sikkim+046.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306331003050347522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfxRq6Octjy5dL973fj2uQXjQB0V3GYwxEKoGyC-fSRWcInrf7DpSpDF6ShRjECfUlDgJDO1tk01kVcpSHPfmG_aGUL_vTuudjtWObkZdLyb3CBrpDYvpfLHOE856KUQhLCDaY2d2i5I/s320/Sikkim+046.jpg" border="0" /></a>Khangchenzonga trek. After their high endorsement, I was convinced and was off the next morning in what was a mostly clear morning, thinking I had lucked out with the weather. The hike was simply breathtaking through lush forest forests and over old bridges spanning raging rivers and waterfalls. The only traffic I saw were the yak/mule crosses and their guides carrying goods to and from their village high above Yuksom and in the shadows of the Himalayas. Unfortunately the weather turned cloudy once again as I reached the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOW2PM03ejLok8lgkTpYenOmzANIuXs4hHg_eDNkjOkB1YGtkIR3etKKtOf7LSzchJQpkALWUYL2Fx3caUtz5AVEIiFdmgsSgJTBWoYT-6OsiBXRMk57UfSW1ZojUBgLZh5WdP_WhHX0/s1600-h/Sikkim+045.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306330995188531250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOW2PM03ejLok8lgkTpYenOmzANIuXs4hHg_eDNkjOkB1YGtkIR3etKKtOf7LSzchJQpkALWUYL2Fx3caUtz5AVEIiFdmgsSgJTBWoYT-6OsiBXRMk57UfSW1ZojUBgLZh5WdP_WhHX0/s320/Sikkim+045.jpg" border="0" /></a>highest I point I could on the trail, the first trekkers hut, before turning around. My immediate surrounding were quite enough to put a huge smile on my face. And another glimpse into local life was afforded at The Cottage Homestay, with a lovely family that allowed me the privalege of helping cook dinner. I'm sure I just got in the way, but it was fun for everyone! I am grateful for this family!<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZpPP0bhkVvK-ZQ9Zlk0McO2x7ORYQ8kVqmX1Al-ibpkXNyIAYrZZOs4lDeHkx6ZGxIGAw04emFshyn4nkBosqoX-IXuRmH9zqmkAiGGN8NsVJMv19xlB9V0eAc73NXV4hPDX28khPwA/s1600-h/Sikkim+042.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306330997372850962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZpPP0bhkVvK-ZQ9Zlk0McO2x7ORYQ8kVqmX1Al-ibpkXNyIAYrZZOs4lDeHkx6ZGxIGAw04emFshyn4nkBosqoX-IXuRmH9zqmkAiGGN8NsVJMv19xlB9V0eAc73NXV4hPDX28khPwA/s320/Sikkim+042.jpg" border="0" /></a>Finally, another highlight of my entire trip (I know, there’s many in Sikkim!) was the annual Chaam dances by the Pemayangtse monks that just so happened to be taking place at their gompa. A real treat it was to witness the perfect cultural highlight to a magnificent natural background and preceding week-long display before my volunteering project at Dakshinayan begins, the final phase of my adventure to India.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZpPP0bhkVvK-ZQ9Zlk0McO2x7ORYQ8kVqmX1Al-ibpkXNyIAYrZZOs4lDeHkx6ZGxIGAw04emFshyn4nkBosqoX-IXuRmH9zqmkAiGGN8NsVJMv19xlB9V0eAc73NXV4hPDX28khPwA/s1600-h/Sikkim+042.jpg"></a> </p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZpPP0bhkVvK-ZQ9Zlk0McO2x7ORYQ8kVqmX1Al-ibpkXNyIAYrZZOs4lDeHkx6ZGxIGAw04emFshyn4nkBosqoX-IXuRmH9zqmkAiGGN8NsVJMv19xlB9V0eAc73NXV4hPDX28khPwA/s1600-h/Sikkim+042.jpg"></a> </p><p> </p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzLkYh9LW6h581zBeK5qB3cWEfK3GMgWztDUOV98-GyDjCXjXIRQW6NPFKONZ-dpAGAkKlNIcK9t49sCzOBZQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p> </p>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-51078021980026636532009-02-24T02:56:00.000-08:002009-02-24T03:48:13.313-08:00Varanasi: India in a Nutshell<div><div><div><div>Since I can remember gaining an interest and curiosity to this phenomenon that is India, it’s been Varansi that has stuck in my mind after listening to those who’ve been here and spoke of the various places they visited. I don’t know why, since I typically do not care for theatrics, novelties or overdone, showy behavior, but for whatever reason, this idea of the ghats in Varanasi has just intrigued me to point where I felt compelled to witness it, even after I thought I’d left the madhouse cultural extremities for the solitude of rural and Himalayan India. I’m so glad that I took that plunge, even if for only a day, to witness what I can confidently say is a good representation of India in a nutshell, Varanasi.<br /><br />An inauspicious start to the quick drop-by, I broke one of the most important rules in the travel bible…when taking a rickshaw in a new location, asked to be dropped where YOU want and YOU think you can find your type of accommodation and not where the driver “recommends”. It’s another awful reality of the tourist business in India that these auto rickshaw drivers get hefty commissions by hotel owners to take you from the train/bus stations or airports to their properties. If you’d let them, they’d probably be more than willing to drive around the entire day, dropping you door to door of those on their list, ringing up the rupees with each stop (they still get paid even if you don’t stay). So it’s just really incredibly annoying and you have to firmly insist on them dropping you in a good spot to hunt down the right guest house. So, I was dropped at a real dive, far away from the ghats where the guy showing the room quoted an insanely ridiculous price, thinking I was the moronic, naïve tourist, Varansi being my first stop. But in some it is kinda fun informing them that you know the routine, the rates and then thank them for insulting you while you walk out the door. Sweet justice…but I was still a good mile from the better-value, better-location guest houses and had to hike it.<br /><br />That night at Puja Guest House I was finally graced by the hypnotic sounds of the sitar, while grabbing a bite to eat on their very high rooftop restaurant. Having linked the sitar and India together, thinking I’d hear it everywhere, it just sounded appropriate as I gazed out over the dimly-lit, misty ghats, guessing what tomorrow had in store for me. “It’s never quite how you image,” I reminded myself.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppH_pDU2bhyphenhyphencxow_1D8_BgNtY2xuDhcuu0qy-gp3yk6w3mm6VqZ1g_KkTYVkPMl4mLyylylhrP_hP2N7TJKnwt485cj1_9A8wHfL9iwfPaljRMAUYwgOvFTrBioofYEt3uSEZMI4QuSM/s1600-h/Varanasi+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306317748609558242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppH_pDU2bhyphenhyphencxow_1D8_BgNtY2xuDhcuu0qy-gp3yk6w3mm6VqZ1g_KkTYVkPMl4mLyylylhrP_hP2N7TJKnwt485cj1_9A8wHfL9iwfPaljRMAUYwgOvFTrBioofYEt3uSEZMI4QuSM/s320/Varanasi+1.jpg" border="0" /></a>It’s said that the ghats are best visited and most active at dawn and dusk, with their sultry hues mystically illuminating the, some strange, some commonplace affairs down below in the river. I was up at 6 am, out the door a half hour later and hating every fiber of Varanasi an hour after that. Like the camel safaris in Jaisalmer or yoga in Rishikesh, it’s the dawn/dusk boat rides along the Ganges river in Varanasi, and their on to you like pit bulls your first step out the door. By maybe the 20th time I’d been asked if I wanted a boat ride, I was ready to go back to bed and be done with Varanasi. The droves of boats already on the water, teeming with zombie-like, elderly western tourists snapping photos like the world was ending, didn’t help. But I stuck it out, and I’m glad <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUZUSylw4igwBoZso9-ruNCBJ9WYATw07c97dPX6UyDEcpdgnyQJ9M4Y56hEm1r8FN2tXqmAnuL_OqRkAAfEoHzBKsG27x-4JuHpQ__2QcP49Hrux_1oJFipBUIIck50ptwjO6ArvhWc/s1600-h/Varanasi+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306317751028366370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUZUSylw4igwBoZso9-ruNCBJ9WYATw07c97dPX6UyDEcpdgnyQJ9M4Y56hEm1r8FN2tXqmAnuL_OqRkAAfEoHzBKsG27x-4JuHpQ__2QcP49Hrux_1oJFipBUIIck50ptwjO6ArvhWc/s320/Varanasi+2.jpg" border="0" /></a>I did. The boat offers began to settle down, as did my nerves and I began to see what Varanasi was all about.<br /><br />You really do see all of India down at the Varanasi ghats. Everyday chores like getting a shave or haircut, drinking chai, reading the newspaper are done there. Others are performing fire puja (prayers) ceremonial dancing, meditation or yoga. And still, there are many who exercise their spirituality by bathing, doing the laundry or just going for a swim in the waters of that vile river. The same river in which other ghastly, but reverent acts are performed, like cremations, if you’re important enough and/or your family has enough money (otherwise there’s a good number of those less fortunate who <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYG8EgG6scOlBU9NF6saiKX2TFy2MbWNwYpN45D0hKwWjOOoiZ068WIytil4NRJutiHkfrL8U-e-dRqg-3xoPBLeEjRXOeRKpmrNi3V7Pqp684wHPZbLONEvnVF5ZMNXMMMSuVCiLzKkg/s1600-h/Varanasi+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306317754156919234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYG8EgG6scOlBU9NF6saiKX2TFy2MbWNwYpN45D0hKwWjOOoiZ068WIytil4NRJutiHkfrL8U-e-dRqg-3xoPBLeEjRXOeRKpmrNi3V7Pqp684wHPZbLONEvnVF5ZMNXMMMSuVCiLzKkg/s320/Varanasi+3.jpg" border="0" /></a>are simply dumped into the river upon their expiring). So, along with various body parts and the ubiquitous sludge of waste present in all rivers in this region of India, people are cleaning themselves, relieving themselves and even brushing their teeth with these holy waters. It’s not that the everyday Indian is this ignorantly unhygienic (though some are), they genuinely and sincerely feel the healing powers of what they consider the most holy and sacred water on the planet. It’s said that if you die or are cremated (or dumped) into the river after you’ve died, the sins of your entire lifetime are cast away and you’re a free soul. So no matter how disgusted you are at what you’re witnessing, you can’t help but admire their passion and dedication to their spirituality. This has been unmistakably and clearly shown throughout my time here!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPk2Uk5sDdxbkZOmcpPPq04yph-XYL7mguYsG3ojnIQp89gLqHFKK2mtPgGgcL0E7REVupk16uDJxOPq5w67bBfPvDEXab8m8aYVtTTs73SuMYV6zQ9eZmEf_z9Ii3NLW4TPnOQyYtPQo/s1600-h/Varanasi+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306317754015885778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPk2Uk5sDdxbkZOmcpPPq04yph-XYL7mguYsG3ojnIQp89gLqHFKK2mtPgGgcL0E7REVupk16uDJxOPq5w67bBfPvDEXab8m8aYVtTTs73SuMYV6zQ9eZmEf_z9Ii3NLW4TPnOQyYtPQo/s320/Varanasi+4.jpg" border="0" /></a>It’s true, I did come to Varanasi wanting to visit the burning ghats and see a cremation. And so, walking back to my guesthouse later that morning, when I saw men carrying wood down to the river and a large crowd in discussion, I became curious. Then it became evident. There was the body! A little creeped out since I’d seen just a few corpses in my whole life in funerals, there it was, on a bamboo stretcher, decked out in brilliant <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBCeoam9rQNaGG27i8I22P5XWONnPSjz2me8q5pyFaMUMwHDVHpjj3ttJ_3kbVMMHbUo8nH6Mj5LLN6Aa-QZ4f8zA27XsgFqnUwY7teIVylBQb0m-QWiDNy62vWetsusMr1vOE5hK7zks/s1600-h/Varanasi+5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306317759162856002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBCeoam9rQNaGG27i8I22P5XWONnPSjz2me8q5pyFaMUMwHDVHpjj3ttJ_3kbVMMHbUo8nH6Mj5LLN6Aa-QZ4f8zA27XsgFqnUwY7teIVylBQb0m-QWiDNy62vWetsusMr1vOE5hK7zks/s320/Varanasi+5.jpg" border="0" /></a>silken sheets. Choosing not to get into the gory details, the ceremony was all incredibly casual. Maybe it was just this one I happened to witness, maybe I had just built it up too much in my mind. But I couldn’t help but notice all the distractions around that I never imagined would accompany such an event, which ultimately kept my attention from what was happening. As the pyre is up in flames, I couldn’t get away from the smoke wafting in my face from close to a dozen small rubbish fires taking place quite near the central blaze. Pariah dogs are everywhere, rooting through waste. The fire attendant is reading the newspaper, just feet away from a burning corpse. There are men jockeying for my business at their silk shops all the while. People are bathing and swimming in the river, just behind the scene. Everyone was just going about their business like this happened everyday. And I suppose it did happen everyday, and multiple times each day. But not for me. And so there were periods during the roughly two-hour process that left me mesmerized by the significance of what was happening in front of me. But mostly I was struck by how unceremonial it was. Maybe if I had known the honorary subject…<br /><br />Finally, after a tumultuous and exhausting day, the last event on the agenda was the evening fire ceremony that was supposed to be something to see. And it was something; it was the highlight of my short Varanasi trip. This fire ceremony at the main ghat on the Ganges River was packed with all walks of life, local and international, beggar and affluent. The main attraction was maybe 7 or 8 central performers atop stone pedestals above the river and engaged in a beautifully choreographed dance with candles, incense and large chalices used to intermittently billow large plumes of smoke, all in-sync and all to the beat of wonderful drumming and traditional chanting. Take a look for yourself!<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzsrpLWKdO4idQyFVFXTe31JULzz7RvnKz31E15oEa8UKjNl2pG8kk7mf1nCIRxEUhsZxa2eO17vwd8yghkJA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div></div></div>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-74030171038548383842009-02-15T04:57:00.000-08:002009-02-15T05:49:19.225-08:00AUM...Shanti, Shanti, Shanti2/15/09... <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfFZF15ot0NUZaen0Ue-z-Uz7Z_tlahyphenhyphenXg3MDJfYVnKbQbxz4oy0a-zNvDZRfirBiRm5IO_qM_Qe8roKfQYq6ytr_2bRZ7_LmSb0eNuGdgojh_5m_GXtL5LQ2GvKPUNkri2uN9Efxsoo/s1600-h/DSC00682.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008069248993106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfFZF15ot0NUZaen0Ue-z-Uz7Z_tlahyphenhyphenXg3MDJfYVnKbQbxz4oy0a-zNvDZRfirBiRm5IO_qM_Qe8roKfQYq6ytr_2bRZ7_LmSb0eNuGdgojh_5m_GXtL5LQ2GvKPUNkri2uN9Efxsoo/s320/DSC00682.JPG" border="0" /></a>Another long train ride brought me from the arid Thar desert to the peaceful sanctuary of Rishikesh, Uttarkhand in the lush foothills of the Himalayas, via a small layover in Delhi. Since leaving that manic mess almost a month ago, Delhi’s apparently developed into my arch nemesis as it drove me to the brink of insanity being there but a few hours; a necessary perspective perhaps, with which to elevate the status of the rest of India, I can hardly wait to return upon flying back to the states. Rishikesh, on the other hand, is, and was definitely for me, the start of something beautiful and pure, in so many ways!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJj8poU0omC_jS-tFJtlKSPl5NOo8k0amWJR4pjL_a-gtNGWkLEiWUUJNArnJTDptOJiVNmLZ4f9peXB3Hpgj1s9lG4MVybh6h-5b5VOyW0KbqLkolHbqmkcgtY_cNJs8DmD2znoo-hL8/s1600-h/DSC00676.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008063439272050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJj8poU0omC_jS-tFJtlKSPl5NOo8k0amWJR4pjL_a-gtNGWkLEiWUUJNArnJTDptOJiVNmLZ4f9peXB3Hpgj1s9lG4MVybh6h-5b5VOyW0KbqLkolHbqmkcgtY_cNJs8DmD2znoo-hL8/s320/DSC00676.JPG" border="0" /></a>For all you Beatles fans out there, Rishikesh and the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi is where John, Paul, George and Ringo sought spiritual enlightenment and the creative material to write much of their famous “White Album” in their trip to India. I was both intrigued, being such a die hard fan and self-admitted western tourist, and put-off, thinking this may have in-effect tarnished a previously genuine spiritual gem, by this notion. However you look at it, George was introduced to the sitar, the Beatles kicked out one the most amazing albums in rock ‘n’ roll history and I witnessed a place not the least bit blemished by the inhabitance of such world icons!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLg-SAkm8lZtcbZ3s9YqAW-eaQFAYZVgiVFE1bvFF69uXUFimKNWC5zNqtzKz3zAzKuezReg2eG3TutQNZa5pc7mFqTsjr6NSTnGYZwC-23urcYy8fJzqau9mSjtbQVR0Bd8K_YX6VHHQ/s1600-h/DSC00656.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008046960252530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLg-SAkm8lZtcbZ3s9YqAW-eaQFAYZVgiVFE1bvFF69uXUFimKNWC5zNqtzKz3zAzKuezReg2eG3TutQNZa5pc7mFqTsjr6NSTnGYZwC-23urcYy8fJzqau9mSjtbQVR0Bd8K_YX6VHHQ/s320/DSC00656.JPG" border="0" /></a>I rolled into town late, as I usually do, to be met by a small child imploring me to come to his guest house. Tired, unaware and unable to fend off his youthful charm, I followed and settled for an overpriced room without hot water. Should’ve seen that one coming! So the next day I vowed to do my once-over of the Laxman Jhula area of up-river Rishikesh in search of the most practical room for what would be at least the better part of a week’s stay. I awoke early and started the day with a run/hike up in the hills to a gorgeous waterfall plunging down into an alpine bathing ghat and a beautiful terraced village. As I ambled back downhill, I began checking out accommodation to find much better deals at much better prices and was feeling very good about myself. When I nearly made it back to my original guest house, off the main street a bit I saw Anand Prakash Yoga Ashram. I had heard a bit about Ashram life, which basically means living in a small spiritual, meditative and/or yoga community with some rules and regulations in place to maintain the unity and harmony of the operation. Meals are usually eaten together, chores shared and then the core exercise of inner self enhancement, whatever <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJgWhm8wkyTEDC-1z6O8CGgJB7ZLc0EV4kOarj60a9aot9qGGlqO8Vlr8pzhsApp87o5xiivDT1yXxozNIgGF28jLzVWQWF6rhHXp5qhBGOlCvXYBFqCdakQq43oVcBXbchftciK7wCY/s1600-h/DSC00697.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008958554541250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJgWhm8wkyTEDC-1z6O8CGgJB7ZLc0EV4kOarj60a9aot9qGGlqO8Vlr8pzhsApp87o5xiivDT1yXxozNIgGF28jLzVWQWF6rhHXp5qhBGOlCvXYBFqCdakQq43oVcBXbchftciK7wCY/s320/DSC00697.JPG" border="0" /></a>that may be, is practiced.<br /><br />Anand Prakash, as I learned, was chiefly a yoga ashram, that immediately caught my eye. Set away from the main street, it’s set on a hillside just up from the geographical focal point of Rishikesh, and the life giving artery of spiritual India, The Ganga (Ganges) River. It was a new establishment, built in 2007, which distinguished <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrB7pFf0ihlTfa-wuPJXeQx0VtzjuNr9_oY_eUGOLwS0mI2HWeGFg8XBHOZ-PEyDPi0leot93azt0T5FyRfa_7BdI-qPsRjOdffe9d-OB13rsuhawPsm-cElb4MJIX4h6cR3sWxebdSw/s1600-h/DSC00693.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008071287184322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrB7pFf0ihlTfa-wuPJXeQx0VtzjuNr9_oY_eUGOLwS0mI2HWeGFg8XBHOZ-PEyDPi0leot93azt0T5FyRfa_7BdI-qPsRjOdffe9d-OB13rsuhawPsm-cElb4MJIX4h6cR3sWxebdSw/s320/DSC00693.JPG" border="0" /></a>it against its nearby worn counterparts. It was a lovely property with a lawn in the front and garden area out back that was meticulously cared for. After I was taken on a brief tour and explained the rules and procedures, I was sold…100%. Some of the details went like this; Akhanda Yoga (a holistic, non-sectarian and very diverse version) practiced, a silent period of 9 pm to 9 am to be observed (including breakfast to <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4RdE8rQsXjDHuS8Ur899QhvCMqaR4MgPlCVSDDBKLCNgh30ggxMpUwVzzXgIS-rToI1cCxEZoPUKBWlO170DZFXhLJ6x3lVGATgAbxJYM-_9BZti6NlqIHyEm0h3cQXDPQuKs6TCwGM/s1600-h/DSC00727.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008969217351298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV4RdE8rQsXjDHuS8Ur899QhvCMqaR4MgPlCVSDDBKLCNgh30ggxMpUwVzzXgIS-rToI1cCxEZoPUKBWlO170DZFXhLJ6x3lVGATgAbxJYM-_9BZti6NlqIHyEm0h3cQXDPQuKs6TCwGM/s320/DSC00727.JPG" border="0" /></a>ensure maximum peace for meditation and reflection within the community), 3 Sattvic vegetarian meals served daily, in by 9:30 at night and an extensive recycling program. Oh yeah, and the gender ratio just happened to be about 40:2, girls to guys, I being one of the 2 guys. This didn’t hurt! And so I was up 5:30 the next morning to start the daily routine seen here. The whole operation was a bit intimidating at first, as my only experience in yoga was a video tape my parents had back home and a few classes <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDVDFC49-JE6cqN0zCP36eAgoWYb1B1Bq83n6gsVg7xJDt9Ic2UEg8KVOgJ3Fv0UiRfmS2p-8pRkOiJU2EZpyVgJXnT_JAQkdbWzQgybAy0D7xEaZKk9HsAWnoMhCaHsabokkPwFEAPs/s1600-h/DSC00674.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008052368167826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDVDFC49-JE6cqN0zCP36eAgoWYb1B1Bq83n6gsVg7xJDt9Ic2UEg8KVOgJ3Fv0UiRfmS2p-8pRkOiJU2EZpyVgJXnT_JAQkdbWzQgybAy0D7xEaZKk9HsAWnoMhCaHsabokkPwFEAPs/s320/DSC00674.JPG" border="0" /></a>offered at the hospital in Delhi with overweight, middle-aged folks to make me feel better about my skills. As carefree as it sounded, attempting to silently meditate as the sun slowly rises in a dimly lit room to Indian chants, then trying to contort your body in ways it’s never before dared try, surrounded by ~40 VERY flexible women was both trying on the body and distracting to the mind.<br /><br />30 of the girls here were involved in a rather intensive (much more intensive than the normal routine shown above), month-long Yoga Teachers Training course that started a week before I got there. So, as I started to get into the routine a bit and blend in the best I could and meet some of the group, it didn’t take long to really “stretch” my physical limits and settle my soul towards inner peace. But as hoaky as it sounds, the benefits were physically and mentally undeniable. It felt as though my whole existence had gone through a major de-tox and the obvious stresses that accompany India had temporarily <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZQWsL7vFR8qjz3sTkd8V2hFuRAgiXGvWhSLTp5wpPjVcv9brHW9BcBnutgbN4CT31Vi65-_PMl4TGKYgiliJrF9ijQrrxcxkYRlOdFg8TfF0PrBHXIWo73q48IngbkwRe_1rKo9BOjQ/s1600-h/DSC00735.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008976123871042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZQWsL7vFR8qjz3sTkd8V2hFuRAgiXGvWhSLTp5wpPjVcv9brHW9BcBnutgbN4CT31Vi65-_PMl4TGKYgiliJrF9ijQrrxcxkYRlOdFg8TfF0PrBHXIWo73q48IngbkwRe_1rKo9BOjQ/s320/DSC00735.JPG" border="0" /></a>been quelled. A sense of community is also such a nice change, anytime, but particularly when you travel. Eating with the same people every meal of the day, seeing them at their worst (5:45 am before yoga) and then their best (8:00 am breakfast after yoga), smiles of contentment while meditating or chanting and just sharing the same emotions as a group is always a good thing, I think.<br /><br />I also have a few other noteworthy tidbits to share. Attempting to down-play the enviable circumstances, I tried not to think about the gender disparity and to concentrate on what I was there to obtain. But electing to seize an opportunity that just so happened to arise, there was a winner to the “Graham <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgjYMDfRrvJQOyQvh5CZxycx4fnnqn5uXRZrkhZME5twa4wtLeW-BuD9NrdPMIGEc5nyTKIznvQrp-J9YWhTmq21XDyAL3JWQtficbp2H3TPARKUFxGdYNz-f_NCb_rqNwn7Y-ErM6n8/s1600-h/DSC00734.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303008971534211042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgjYMDfRrvJQOyQvh5CZxycx4fnnqn5uXRZrkhZME5twa4wtLeW-BuD9NrdPMIGEc5nyTKIznvQrp-J9YWhTmq21XDyAL3JWQtficbp2H3TPARKUFxGdYNz-f_NCb_rqNwn7Y-ErM6n8/s320/DSC00734.JPG" border="0" /></a>sweepstakes” (a.k.a. one of two available guys in the place) and I managed to find a travel partner for the last couple of weeks after volunteering and before heading back to the states, Caroline Corso from Montreal, Canada. She’s quite amazing at yoga and an even better person, so I can’t wait to spend some more time with her and get to know her better!<br /><br />And finally, regarding my plans as I arrive back to the states, I scored another bellman job for the summer…this time in the great north…Alaska! I’ve long been told that I have a job waiting for me whenever I feel so inclined by numerous friends that I’m lucky to have way up there and feel that this is the perfect time. It falls between getting back home from India and before I leave for Australia for graduate school (fingers crossed, awaiting acceptance). Have I even mentioned Australia in this blog? Ah, oh well, I’m tired and this blog is finished!<br /><br />But I feel compelled to end with a few centerpiece word/phrases often uttered throughout the ashram, Rishikesh the rest of the Eastern World. “Namaste” is the greeting, when meeting and departing and means that “The Divine spark in me greets the Divine spark in you”. It’s said in conjunction with putting hands together in front of the chest with a small bow. And finally, uttered after chants, yoga, before eating and any other auspicious actions, the Sanskrit symbol “AUM” (hummed simultaneously throughout one large breath) is seen and hummed/chanted EVERYWHERE in India and is a very mystical and sacred symbol. AUM is the universal name of the Lord and its three letter symbolize three states (waking, dream and deep sleep) and also the means and the goal of life, the world and the Truth behind it, and the material and the Sacred, all form and the Formless. The symbol is seen at the bottom of this blog. And “Shanti, Shanti, Shanti”, referring to “May there be peace (physical peace), peace (mental peace) and peace (spiritual peace).<a href="http://www.paramhansa.com/Astrology/Om.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px" alt="" src="http://www.paramhansa.com/Astrology/Om.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-73170058272425227662009-02-09T21:54:00.000-08:002009-02-10T01:27:26.889-08:00Just Sonia and I2/9/09…<br /><br />When it came time to depart Jodhpur, my anticipation of getting to Jaisalmer was abounding due to top-notch reviews many of the travelers that I’ve met throughout Rajasthan had given it. Some went as far as claiming Jaisalmer as being their favorite place in all of India, due to the serenity of the quaint town, sandcastle-like ambience and of course, “the thing” to do in Jaisalmer, the highly admired camel safari into the desert. Having been drawn more to the mountains in the past is not to say that I dislike other environments such as the beach, or in this case the desert. So during the bus ride to cameltown, through the rugged and arid landscape of the Thar, I realized that traveling through this environment was not enough and that I would relish the opportunity to go out and touch it!<br /><br />I arrived at yet another cheaper-than-cheap guest house with another amazing rooftop restaurant/social area with great food (why in the world they don’t have this in the states is beyond me-maybe they do in the cities) and had a nice chat and dinner with some very nice Aussies (Australians) on break from med school. Jaisalmer Fort (much like Megerangarh Fort in Jodhpur, just nowhere near as large and imposing) dominates the views from any point in Jaisalmer and is the focal point of the town. It's impressive, but apparently the infrastructure is failing due to the septic pressure applied from the stingy guesthouse house owners inside that will not yield to the better judgement of saving the historical landmark. It would be very neat and there are some very nice places to stay inside, but come on people! So, as a result, the structural integrity of the fort is compromised, as is the character inside and the magnificent structure will likely be condemned in the near future. Such a shame!<br /><br />Exploring the various alleyways and corridors throughout the fort on my second day I ran into a couple that I had met from Heaven Guest House, the girl from Brazil and the guy from Israel. We exchanged greetings and plans for our stays in Jaisalmer and realized our mutual interests in a camel safari. As mentioned previously, camel safaris are “it” in Jaisalmer, which means lots of hotels/travel companies offering trips of various lengths and locations, all, of course claiming THE BEST safari in town. Consequently, with so much supply available, the demand becomes a bit of a game, and the bigger the group you have, the more you’re able to influence price negotiations. So even though I’d be a third wheel in this party of three, we agreed to see what sort of trip we could muster. When we recognized another English couple from Heaven and who later entered our party, my apprehensions mounted at first as I became the fifth wheel, then eased as I became aware of the harmony and leisure of our group. This is a fun clan!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcziYZ3ArqDIrXLxg__ljnFrxb3hPh478Q-1wcTLz2PqrbFzGOW22F-XobDN4vUr6ZirHeW6Mpm5JWzk2GyveIldl6H0_Pgbp8tbJUooNhD1Wxlt0ycVWyC1iahL6y8m6ncudSnOcRDY/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+064.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301045043795275234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcziYZ3ArqDIrXLxg__ljnFrxb3hPh478Q-1wcTLz2PqrbFzGOW22F-XobDN4vUr6ZirHeW6Mpm5JWzk2GyveIldl6H0_Pgbp8tbJUooNhD1Wxlt0ycVWyC1iahL6y8m6ncudSnOcRDY/s320/Jaisalmer+064.jpg" border="0" /></a>Our chief negotiator, the Israeli, even with a more limited English vocabulary, was a pit-bull haggling with the tour director and used his Israeli influence (young Israelis are travelling everywhere in India, and the world for that matter, as a re-initiation back into the world following their mandatory 3-year commitment to the Israeli military, and consequently can get really good deals with such representation and free advertising to their comrades) to get a really amazing deal; 2 full days, one night, all meals included, only a small backpack of personal items needed, for the meager price of $20. We agreed that it was a screamin’ deal and we were off the following day atop those strange camel creatures into the desert.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYqmLtxdghilRc21X64v1tBGg0KJoHFQOSIeHhRHrW_w6AQXklaIPs4e7TF7lS8yOKJIWq2hxZfJ-0IB3gPjhSeJH964pCpOMQZdH6Q-4zBKN0Jp290_sTRT9Loa_uVEYAUrUX2MNPz4/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+082.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301045049009337010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYqmLtxdghilRc21X64v1tBGg0KJoHFQOSIeHhRHrW_w6AQXklaIPs4e7TF7lS8yOKJIWq2hxZfJ-0IB3gPjhSeJH964pCpOMQZdH6Q-4zBKN0Jp290_sTRT9Loa_uVEYAUrUX2MNPz4/s320/Jaisalmer+082.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />When we arrived at our starting point, following a brisk early morning jeep ride away from the town, we sat speechless, studying what were to be our modes of transportation for the next couple of days. They’re huge, they kinda stink, they’re strong and are completely docile and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mpOvdu58qJ2PdShZDL-nU4W3xXgfbybmeCV6dOPAQvlrzHwugEQC-KsUkwJtmn0LG_64PaXQo_IWdt0HK1K3kB4fI8-ElWZFBb544H4OI664QeHaIpjRnzxyN8MdezhZSndWicz6wN4/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+201.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301045053222353730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mpOvdu58qJ2PdShZDL-nU4W3xXgfbybmeCV6dOPAQvlrzHwugEQC-KsUkwJtmn0LG_64PaXQo_IWdt0HK1K3kB4fI8-ElWZFBb544H4OI664QeHaIpjRnzxyN8MdezhZSndWicz6wN4/s320/Jaisalmer+201.jpg" border="0" /></a>super friendly. The saddles are probably 4 feet tall when the camels are sitting down upon mounting and the awkwardness of these beasts are such that, when they stand, you are thrust forward and their back legs are straightened, then thrust backward as their front legs bring them to a complete stand. The weariness continues as it feels like the camels are just going to dart through the desert at any moment, you clinging on for your life and needing to bail. At least that’s what I was feeling. But they never do, and contrary to what I was told, I had a comfortable ride, finding a fine balance and nice rhythm to their gate. The two other guys weren’t so lucky. I think it’s because they’re both taller than I, with longer legs, and unable to utilize the stirrups as effectively. Being shorter does have a few perks!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCC6CD19KHR_dFVMizrob9d-0uXN8b8_uD9VhPjYOMJlzoK9U7YKAUopTBg5gKTv4LNOmNsTcQZQC4nrNOKQPEdScNHc8_zytF-cKeo14FlpJIplG4DbIrAAx-42KFlAqyYXXN0nTyb0Y/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+251.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301046809219292370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCC6CD19KHR_dFVMizrob9d-0uXN8b8_uD9VhPjYOMJlzoK9U7YKAUopTBg5gKTv4LNOmNsTcQZQC4nrNOKQPEdScNHc8_zytF-cKeo14FlpJIplG4DbIrAAx-42KFlAqyYXXN0nTyb0Y/s320/Jaisalmer+251.jpg" border="0" /></a>The first day was really incredible, spent ambling through the sun-scorched, barren landscape, visiting a village that didn’t appear to have much, if any, contact with western people and eating delicious Indian food prepared by our multi-talented guides that were so very good to us the entire way. My camel, Sonia had bit of a mind of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLq_qXqmGj_s4FRWVPVhk2k6oUDU-0fCHPI2ATclpWdb-Hm03tAHiYG-WCl56MtP9jJ7cOfMF6mrPoPlvXR7eX6snpy2sw0RaAw6tAZ1ZTuAto7tIERxks8gONSyMke4gQhYrqVkZjRI/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+245.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301046805189835826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLq_qXqmGj_s4FRWVPVhk2k6oUDU-0fCHPI2ATclpWdb-Hm03tAHiYG-WCl56MtP9jJ7cOfMF6mrPoPlvXR7eX6snpy2sw0RaAw6tAZ1ZTuAto7tIERxks8gONSyMke4gQhYrqVkZjRI/s320/Jaisalmer+245.jpg" border="0" /></a>her own and a dual agenda on this trip. In addition to pleasing her owners and hauling my heavy load aimlessly around the desert, she was continuously leading the pack and surveying the horizon. She’s a born leader with a curious personality, I thought. Then, when she made this hideous, guttural noise from the back of her throat and, what seemed to be her cheek or part of her throat or something came bubbling out of her mouth, along with loads of saliva and an awful stench, I presumed something else was up. I was subsequently told that Sonia, luckily for me was in heat, or the rut, or whatever you might call it for camels. Alas, whatever the term, her incorrigible, but endearing behavior gave my camel a different sort of disposition and as the other sweethearts behind me were doing their <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwGUcexVcj5nCQXUo2CyGbuw4OpNSuom9eTuj3yT0JQVc7u5RN4g3Ukmz5t79URzee0qNHg8_g5U_T2CPsd_G-2jKISuRysWCqKPBaE8OuajpfCAVjzArsQpojC0bTAujIuE1f4jpsm8/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+192.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301045053311099362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwGUcexVcj5nCQXUo2CyGbuw4OpNSuom9eTuj3yT0JQVc7u5RN4g3Ukmz5t79URzee0qNHg8_g5U_T2CPsd_G-2jKISuRysWCqKPBaE8OuajpfCAVjzArsQpojC0bTAujIuE1f4jpsm8/s320/Jaisalmer+192.jpg" border="0" /></a>thing, Sonia, the camel and I leading the pack out front, doing ours (i.e. me constantly slowing her down and yanking her focus back to our destinations ahead).<br /><br />In the evening we came upon an oasis of sand, in a vast see of craggly trees, rocks and gravel that <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSttNwbbQSep8NmOz8bRgYZ8n_TolQ6XNwVo14yw2UbTmaYJpZuD4U_DQ7KJqz7WNzRY5JNUbn0LuSW1a0bdIWDIsRiYVBiw0TZG_avkS2k19LPWYjm2R92hoefiNIruJco85OBOj01Q/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+223.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301045058291041890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSttNwbbQSep8NmOz8bRgYZ8n_TolQ6XNwVo14yw2UbTmaYJpZuD4U_DQ7KJqz7WNzRY5JNUbn0LuSW1a0bdIWDIsRiYVBiw0TZG_avkS2k19LPWYjm2R92hoefiNIruJco85OBOj01Q/s320/Jaisalmer+223.jpg" border="0" /></a>was stunningly beautiful and provided an inviting opportunity into what the desert is supposed to look and be like. As the sun descended, an Indian couple from the state of Punjab that we joined with maybe an hour before announced it was their anniversary and they had some liquor to share. Turns out we had our own sand bar of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6-qSDpglh9pqLpxeYwt0dMnzpzfF-YKFjmP0eklVX52PFrISNxEZ8BOsLap69CShyphenhyphenwcOG2EakAJbfG35RBZrGc1Ab7e44o4LHlICpG05S7oXec5CelN5cTBuwQz-lDcavpadIZ0fZy8/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+229.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301046798284303650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6-qSDpglh9pqLpxeYwt0dMnzpzfF-YKFjmP0eklVX52PFrISNxEZ8BOsLap69CShyphenhyphenwcOG2EakAJbfG35RBZrGc1Ab7e44o4LHlICpG05S7oXec5CelN5cTBuwQz-lDcavpadIZ0fZy8/s320/Jaisalmer+229.jpg" border="0" /></a>whatever our livers could hold and the remainder of the evening was spent sitting around the campfire with fantastic food, chanting and singing, a clear and moonlit sky atop a sea of sand, under a sea of stars communing with quality people.<br />After a glorious sunrise and another delicious breakfast, we set out a little tired and sore from the previous day and were met with the jeep in the early afternoon. Before leaving the following day, Our Punjab friends insisted that we all meet them for their anniversary dinner in Jaisalmer <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gWZ_AbjcY4kjBnVs92gOV4zkis0BXaE9Tzk9u7EWGvofOCib6sjw-LDBqBgzYQbqV_38cA2Tp_SgfXlxiHuvGBfZlWqvUuv8Q06qJBzLjJXJuCwg15vUXNFuKkB9DHRCA_VCA6QVW9M/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+254.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301046806700703954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gWZ_AbjcY4kjBnVs92gOV4zkis0BXaE9Tzk9u7EWGvofOCib6sjw-LDBqBgzYQbqV_38cA2Tp_SgfXlxiHuvGBfZlWqvUuv8Q06qJBzLjJXJuCwg15vUXNFuKkB9DHRCA_VCA6QVW9M/s320/Jaisalmer+254.jpg" border="0" /></a>that night. So we all gathered one last time to mingle and gorge ourselves on tons of traditional Indian dishes, each one tantalizingly delectable. Oh, how I will miss this food…and this place!Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-42529796182131894912009-02-05T01:51:00.000-08:002009-02-05T02:11:26.622-08:00The City of BlueI arrived in the blue city late in the evening half asleep, after the hike at Ranakpur and following a long bus ride. I decided to take the advice of some fellow travelers offered to me as I was getting on the bus at Ranakpur, to try Heaven Guest House in Jodhpur. In the traveler circles of India and most other countries, you end up criss-crossing routes with lots of other travelers, many of whom you’ve already met, from destinations of places you’ve been to or are going. As stories are told and advice is given, inevitably, common topics surface such as what to do, what to see, where to eat and particularly, where to sleep, and the business owners are privy to this (at least the smarter ones). So, in an attempt to secure future business from the mouths of paying guests, and hospitality heads attempt to give ultimate care and pampering, often and not surprisingly, right at the end of your stay near check-out. At this point, business cards or small brochures are given out and it’s kindly asked that you distribute these to travelers coming their way. It’s really a great and cheap approach to advertisement and the best form of accountability for the guest house owners. Everyone wins! So when I was given the card for Heaven and told how great the service and kind the family was, I felt compelled to try and was rewarded! <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><div>I was actually disappointed to learn that there were no rooms available at Heaven when I plodded up the stairs to the office with my large backpack. But my fortunes quickly turned when I was offered the bed on the ornamental rooftop under the stars, and later to find out, under the strikingly colossal Megerangarh fort, rising out of the desert practically right overhead! All of my aches, pains and fatigue vanished as a full enough moon lit the clay-colored fort abright in an ochre-colored brilliance. I can’t believe I didn’t get a picture of it from this vantage point!<br /></div><div> </div><div>The inside of the fort was no less impressive than the outside, complete with everything you’d imagine to necessitate such a mighty structure. In an effort not to excessively bore with insignificant names and details, I’ll just let some of the images I was able to capture do the talking.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWKX1UHw_8kTxXUClheb0EUZwejLNOjxaI9fpUjHmZ5pFsXT5MfB5KC9_G3rgS7IWYsIReZi1OggQbSczW7cjJ_fsBMzixTL7Xl3SjVVcve5pwOLgOM-rPeBSe-HgEjUyahM2YeWMqZk/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299249622505961202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWKX1UHw_8kTxXUClheb0EUZwejLNOjxaI9fpUjHmZ5pFsXT5MfB5KC9_G3rgS7IWYsIReZi1OggQbSczW7cjJ_fsBMzixTL7Xl3SjVVcve5pwOLgOM-rPeBSe-HgEjUyahM2YeWMqZk/s320/Jaisalmer+028.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzQoTjMKTeC9iRxE3-Pg8S10w9S_f38JxL8203MyJuGVht7sLrxA0svW2SAB6zqjgY-lsvw7ezTj5DkAx4UlEsltD57mNvWz6GbjNYDTPj9uQ9_yaO7wafhxAxputvQ6i_wdURv20js4/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+041.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299249626172128178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzQoTjMKTeC9iRxE3-Pg8S10w9S_f38JxL8203MyJuGVht7sLrxA0svW2SAB6zqjgY-lsvw7ezTj5DkAx4UlEsltD57mNvWz6GbjNYDTPj9uQ9_yaO7wafhxAxputvQ6i_wdURv20js4/s320/Jaisalmer+041.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDO9ldUg0EwqSoFCNgnRliV7pKQCnRadgSJxAJ6FjIw_nIWdqZ51IYD-ciE1TzyJgYXMGfjbeSP62RV5h_KkLoIanOHQrxfaaeMO5sxitilitb7KgS7nH-hjsfgn2ELEA_TS0dkvIbuzg/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+045.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299249638368154338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDO9ldUg0EwqSoFCNgnRliV7pKQCnRadgSJxAJ6FjIw_nIWdqZ51IYD-ciE1TzyJgYXMGfjbeSP62RV5h_KkLoIanOHQrxfaaeMO5sxitilitb7KgS7nH-hjsfgn2ELEA_TS0dkvIbuzg/s320/Jaisalmer+045.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dSAe96v7NM9vUMJ9kNGFhrft_n4M1QrdYG36oJ4KO8OC0e4oQrmDFpkol9jc_eLmsPCqD6Lla_gHrD-Xj9mJHPFBAiP0egTdufGy8QovPiB_V7LL0wWXAdRl8gU-xf2j8VvSx4iicks/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+047.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299250816917249634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dSAe96v7NM9vUMJ9kNGFhrft_n4M1QrdYG36oJ4KO8OC0e4oQrmDFpkol9jc_eLmsPCqD6Lla_gHrD-Xj9mJHPFBAiP0egTdufGy8QovPiB_V7LL0wWXAdRl8gU-xf2j8VvSx4iicks/s320/Jaisalmer+047.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEh4ze9UanpC55gouY87iO_LgY9_uhQ7vNgydkbdC4kly2dA-V2lz_WSuf7hdYdEj6AcYzlQDX1yObcjj3M7GsWhtndnhyphenhyphenI4cSGlUQmpcMPf5NOahzeUu-DiUlJVyBMB16TNPxLZ0tV0/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+043.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299249635464132498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEEh4ze9UanpC55gouY87iO_LgY9_uhQ7vNgydkbdC4kly2dA-V2lz_WSuf7hdYdEj6AcYzlQDX1yObcjj3M7GsWhtndnhyphenhyphenI4cSGlUQmpcMPf5NOahzeUu-DiUlJVyBMB16TNPxLZ0tV0/s320/Jaisalmer+043.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZXl9r7Wj8vRt40Pi_P_ffjXp5kW1uQGdeKfapeJpHUApmM1SKvRIDaVlTUKl1wdkw3tZTwgEPbgDQybBC8r5EjXgfnBldiYkoAQmAxnlm_Uwq9vZhvhj0R_f7KTHQQP-upsx8TdGos8/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+075.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299250821657580738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZXl9r7Wj8vRt40Pi_P_ffjXp5kW1uQGdeKfapeJpHUApmM1SKvRIDaVlTUKl1wdkw3tZTwgEPbgDQybBC8r5EjXgfnBldiYkoAQmAxnlm_Uwq9vZhvhj0R_f7KTHQQP-upsx8TdGos8/s320/Jaisalmer+075.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMODA58ZSIrmdAeY3ZKN6_ahSKdBmWJxjr5pJ82foux-VnIbZDaMazNrWLzDWOLaymWadUcV6BzgTk0Ym3C-ZBFlRoN-9V5Tm1sPk2jF5H6E3uu9vJCv1XWX9cYse7m1qL_JQXE3oAKa0/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+059.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299250816829612930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMODA58ZSIrmdAeY3ZKN6_ahSKdBmWJxjr5pJ82foux-VnIbZDaMazNrWLzDWOLaymWadUcV6BzgTk0Ym3C-ZBFlRoN-9V5Tm1sPk2jF5H6E3uu9vJCv1XWX9cYse7m1qL_JQXE3oAKa0/s320/Jaisalmer+059.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD5figjBkGgC-A8L6YiixRW4LF3am-mRaN4iiGHrqESovU5XpICnnj4kzwRdyu1ETytOVvE0SiJQi3OW8PIptkfkveeqFyx4Y8kgnVgmrE76I24z-lW_adoeIWAH8IES6l2Lqg0JSV5nc/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+078.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299250825298049794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD5figjBkGgC-A8L6YiixRW4LF3am-mRaN4iiGHrqESovU5XpICnnj4kzwRdyu1ETytOVvE0SiJQi3OW8PIptkfkveeqFyx4Y8kgnVgmrE76I24z-lW_adoeIWAH8IES6l2Lqg0JSV5nc/s320/Jaisalmer+078.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqQjYru2sEOwAHXWiKHNs22p_wpjo6499i_ET0F3itpRbiT0dXqFC2wqZ1Cie62tc7sPUEWJ9IP2uz5NFLVowTACUwGd1DnLOVgs9VnX53v9b-98kd4wIt5wKOIqUkqc71SEKFaUCLSw/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+067.jpg"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqQjYru2sEOwAHXWiKHNs22p_wpjo6499i_ET0F3itpRbiT0dXqFC2wqZ1Cie62tc7sPUEWJ9IP2uz5NFLVowTACUwGd1DnLOVgs9VnX53v9b-98kd4wIt5wKOIqUkqc71SEKFaUCLSw/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+067.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299250819761658242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqQjYru2sEOwAHXWiKHNs22p_wpjo6499i_ET0F3itpRbiT0dXqFC2wqZ1Cie62tc7sPUEWJ9IP2uz5NFLVowTACUwGd1DnLOVgs9VnX53v9b-98kd4wIt5wKOIqUkqc71SEKFaUCLSw/s320/Jaisalmer+067.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqQjYru2sEOwAHXWiKHNs22p_wpjo6499i_ET0F3itpRbiT0dXqFC2wqZ1Cie62tc7sPUEWJ9IP2uz5NFLVowTACUwGd1DnLOVgs9VnX53v9b-98kd4wIt5wKOIqUkqc71SEKFaUCLSw/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+067.jpg"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6ck75xlP-huF4gYPnCQHVjUMGQMQJtDuZGKT8nLyPSq5KOjweTqSUPOIVG87x9x0zgKBHyMGuTI429hboA7ABA3m9pxOuxLU7Q7IQioLu79IdVkbUKTPR8oCDiKgcRsPEk6HDSH0UvA/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+083.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299251169090075410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6ck75xlP-huF4gYPnCQHVjUMGQMQJtDuZGKT8nLyPSq5KOjweTqSUPOIVG87x9x0zgKBHyMGuTI429hboA7ABA3m9pxOuxLU7Q7IQioLu79IdVkbUKTPR8oCDiKgcRsPEk6HDSH0UvA/s320/Jaisalmer+083.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkZRgXyb_KR-Bi-PE_vBf4mEzzPnGNhK-00wZnuFxek4DxfNobA4FQuzaChA2MGoE3cYINRNMGt_hM5AkrwyrRzWBRahGzpDWRcBp8dtLxUxEEMqX2THgT7pAziGKnfpAieQV85NskXk/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+032.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299249623568729778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkZRgXyb_KR-Bi-PE_vBf4mEzzPnGNhK-00wZnuFxek4DxfNobA4FQuzaChA2MGoE3cYINRNMGt_hM5AkrwyrRzWBRahGzpDWRcBp8dtLxUxEEMqX2THgT7pAziGKnfpAieQV85NskXk/s320/Jaisalmer+032.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Aside from the fort and a few of the other monuments around town that I didn’t get to, Jodhpur was just a smaller, albeit much smaller, version of Delhi. Lots of traffic, honking and people. I never did learn for sure why “blue” theme dominated Jodhpur (the guidebook said something about it being Brahmin-blue), but this amalgamation was pleasing, particularly when viewed from high above in the fort. </div><div></div><div> </div><div>Two nights in Jodhpur did the trick and the deep desert town, teeming with camels is calling. Jaisalmer is the next stop… </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-35903985946890105112009-02-01T01:54:00.000-08:002009-02-01T02:04:35.082-08:00Jain Devotion<div> 2/1/09…<br /><br />Upon searching out my transition from Udaipur onward, I learned of what was described as being the best illustration of Jain architecture in Rajasthan, and possibly the most intricate in all of India, just 90 kilometers away in Ranakpur. With just a small blurb in Lonely Planet, I new this possibility might allow me a chance to escape the tourist cloud and give me an intimate, more personal discovery. My intuition was right on!<br /><br />Jainism was created around the 6th century BC as a separate, but similar, branch of Hinduism. What I found most appealing in the little I’ve learned, is that the reason for their deliberate distinction was their protest of the vicious caste system that I feel mars an otherwise respectable religion in Hinduism. For the record, not all Hindus believe in the caste system and the belief is said to be waning, but with all due respect, I feel it wrong. At any rate, the Jains have been masterful architects for thousands of years with a magnificent attention to detail, in which Ranakpur exemplifies their devotion to their gods and spirituality!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpHxEdbo7dyPUzHrG3xtcEfQAVTshzLIilxFjg46YuD3MVNZFDy8aWDdc05vV2I9h-b5EvPBgjA04VCHFmVvOwL7Ma-UY7C2lmw4IjRzU_0SJQFPh_UYXW5BK9pmyVehEmCgZxytowFA/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+146.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297767047986632946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpHxEdbo7dyPUzHrG3xtcEfQAVTshzLIilxFjg46YuD3MVNZFDy8aWDdc05vV2I9h-b5EvPBgjA04VCHFmVvOwL7Ma-UY7C2lmw4IjRzU_0SJQFPh_UYXW5BK9pmyVehEmCgZxytowFA/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+146.jpg" border="0" /></a>Ranakpur is the collection of a handful of temples, the most inspiring and largest of which, is called Chaumukha Mandir (Four-Faced Temple). It’s said to have an amazing 1444 pillars, with no two alike, and with one of them leaning. Someone there pointed out that this crooked blemish is to reminds us that we as humans are not perfect, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdvg0TCo8Dq6rgyF6pWBv2VNcBeMQ8WF93OUENW0EDFkYeYYVXim5RaFKd_3ANXKrsy8D0-Tdk7SqXY0XniR-7BctSZcjcSGOfH_bpzz_upYTzE4_7_EFcYDtcr0vJCuYV0lXl-Dml0OQ/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+161.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297767057469981538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdvg0TCo8Dq6rgyF6pWBv2VNcBeMQ8WF93OUENW0EDFkYeYYVXim5RaFKd_3ANXKrsy8D0-Tdk7SqXY0XniR-7BctSZcjcSGOfH_bpzz_upYTzE4_7_EFcYDtcr0vJCuYV0lXl-Dml0OQ/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+161.jpg" border="0" /></a>only God is perfect. What a great symbol! However, imperfect we humans are, it’s hard to find any evidence within the Ranakpur temples (except the leaner).<br /><br />Chaumukha Mandir, chiseled exclusively from the whitest of marble by hand, was completed in 1439. Open to the sky at various areas, and roofed at others, the inside perimeter is lined with enclosures of idols and there’s a beautiful tree in one wing. It’s hard to describe the environment, or even capture it by photograph. The rays of sunlight reflecting off the marble, the acoustics, the spacing of the pillars and of course, the mind-boggling carvings throughout bring a sense of complete harmony. Not sure how frequently it happened, but I was <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7mLk8yCKb0WN7uUJfJlD7KbbUtQ-ubYh0NnPLGspMxgkFOtOSu5oRtnSBjSjN6XXkTgECpb_7Ix_Q0fNipp9eKqcibM3eJQXb5Fht0wy_vSRKPLN9NHVG84_EhjVUNExdY5vGg_Krhc/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+147.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297767059370665746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7mLk8yCKb0WN7uUJfJlD7KbbUtQ-ubYh0NnPLGspMxgkFOtOSu5oRtnSBjSjN6XXkTgECpb_7Ix_Q0fNipp9eKqcibM3eJQXb5Fht0wy_vSRKPLN9NHVG84_EhjVUNExdY5vGg_Krhc/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+147.jpg" border="0" /></a>lucky enough to witness some sort of religious ceremony there, where the participants were clad in colorful traditional garb and, I believe, making offerings in the various chambers.<br /><br />Ranakpur is set amongst some interesting craggy desert habitat and caught wind of some trails <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GqHwmj-bV-2av8OIkOqp-LjCNUhhlPDjnGG3K5UT997bJ5xHrEPaXxazL3LY7YEiTFgD2gjXZAIoEFFmoXY5s960MTxDDIFBdafLY9-3Fa9WUOPvL58wtvSvnu_v23n9kc1oGuGoy5Y/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+153.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297767055631165458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GqHwmj-bV-2av8OIkOqp-LjCNUhhlPDjnGG3K5UT997bJ5xHrEPaXxazL3LY7YEiTFgD2gjXZAIoEFFmoXY5s960MTxDDIFBdafLY9-3Fa9WUOPvL58wtvSvnu_v23n9kc1oGuGoy5Y/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+153.jpg" border="0" /></a>across the road from the temples that wound up into the small rugged mountains. I was, again, hike-deprived, so I got up early the next morning and set to the trails before my bus to Jodhpur later in the afternoon. I forget sometimes how itchy and scratchy (for lack of better terms) the desert is and made the mistake of wearing shorts. So, when I went off trail to reach the top of a nearby ridge, my legs, not surprisingly, got nicely pricked up. But it was a nice hike and I got great views of the temples from up high and the desert beyond. And guess what else I saw up at the top….more monkeys! They’re slowly losing their charm…slowly!<br /><br />After Ranakpur is the blue city and home to the mighty Rajputs, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhreSNyzH16AMQ5c7mtx1473kvP4EIKHgA7SvamNk8_MxQwALnYjxZe_18hkGc1TdTpvj3xSeGUQ8F2IBlsN4B7EqbMOolceeHjvO-Ft47ZhoU7ByUuskjQTs1UX83qqDFglvopp718IcQ/s1600-h/Jaisalmer+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297767052383842018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhreSNyzH16AMQ5c7mtx1473kvP4EIKHgA7SvamNk8_MxQwALnYjxZe_18hkGc1TdTpvj3xSeGUQ8F2IBlsN4B7EqbMOolceeHjvO-Ft47ZhoU7ByUuskjQTs1UX83qqDFglvopp718IcQ/s320/Jaisalmer+003.jpg" border="0" /></a>Jodhpur. A blog on it and the massive Meherangarh fort upcoming! </div>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-71417872998884617762009-01-29T08:13:00.000-08:002009-01-29T09:42:05.400-08:00Bond-ing in Udaipur<div><div><div><div><div><div><div>1/26/09...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-q0Ly-Aq5cuph2175V-ql4hbX_yiiDEUO8NP_8fJFSfyEZ3Gs6g6_cqO0ZczztDXiNFbEsn-mHv6JztCbjss831uqTwKPaKXXN6T9fmq_YkDtCmOwlDHRfVsO6ow7u_wxWNIw3PCMJE/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296753259795468962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-q0Ly-Aq5cuph2175V-ql4hbX_yiiDEUO8NP_8fJFSfyEZ3Gs6g6_cqO0ZczztDXiNFbEsn-mHv6JztCbjss831uqTwKPaKXXN6T9fmq_YkDtCmOwlDHRfVsO6ow7u_wxWNIw3PCMJE/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+006.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In searching for the site to film his 1983 007 film, Octopussy, its not hard to understand why John Glen chose Udaipur, India. Like the many other majestic and charming cities James Bond <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0igGMIE3TRDSFi3nrB599VwKYtM_wcaUn_yjvkeUq8WqrsPKhNnj0CNzhMLsK9-PMc3ukX7tC7WwHAegQx8f9WeygTxoWccDPJnHYTR_YJj9iJOmzadONzT5_YJHjXgJz2_S9o_Qx4xo/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296753255748501234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0igGMIE3TRDSFi3nrB599VwKYtM_wcaUn_yjvkeUq8WqrsPKhNnj0CNzhMLsK9-PMc3ukX7tC7WwHAegQx8f9WeygTxoWccDPJnHYTR_YJj9iJOmzadONzT5_YJHjXgJz2_S9o_Qx4xo/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+005.jpg" border="0" /></a>finds himself drop-kicking the bad guy, sleeping with the exotic mistress and saving the world, Udaipur has the ability to capture one’s imagination as if it were fashioned from a fairy-tale storybook.<br /><br />Even though the tourist sector of Udaipur goes a bit overboard with its Bond “fame”, I was still sucked into watching the entire movie at one of the dozens of rooftop cafes that play the film every night. It was then that I realized how far <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ldN4ZmxUfsCCg0vx1XUugdpUdRx2P5JIX1zpNT9kXTDZLh8C8qJZfT8U-5veYIdwf8jl0ldG7I11H-UmhxPqUelQA4SZiV-yKatDesHncP7n4-XNjpIRlpzIsyjIou5ghQCtaqxnFCg/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296753267707954722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ldN4ZmxUfsCCg0vx1XUugdpUdRx2P5JIX1zpNT9kXTDZLh8C8qJZfT8U-5veYIdwf8jl0ldG7I11H-UmhxPqUelQA4SZiV-yKatDesHncP7n4-XNjpIRlpzIsyjIou5ghQCtaqxnFCg/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+027.jpg" border="0" /></a>technology and cinematography has come in the past 26 years and how lame and touristy my trip had temporarily become. The three cute Danish girls staying at my guest house and had asked me to come, perhaps, had something to do with it. However tacky it may have been, it was neat being able to see the Monsoon Palace shown in the movie, then looking back to see the real thing lit up at night on a distant, rugged mountain. Or watching Bond motor up to Lake Palace Hotel in his, then high-tech, crocodile suit, then gazing literally over the top of the television to the see the marvelous Hotel aglow in the moonlight in the middle of Lake Pichola. But that was definitely enough Bond for me!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9QiBQ7IZW6rnA-BAom76O-8hu4kcH8b8baOIaLUdZMIchTeA4RccY2szf8nwMwORA585sY5SBIRsSt3x5xL-rfBjkQ1vE75274jE9MVbDbcxxl8CjJzWU5iqwS8Hut8TtDrBA1ZUDeWo/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+038.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296753267101011106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9QiBQ7IZW6rnA-BAom76O-8hu4kcH8b8baOIaLUdZMIchTeA4RccY2szf8nwMwORA585sY5SBIRsSt3x5xL-rfBjkQ1vE75274jE9MVbDbcxxl8CjJzWU5iqwS8Hut8TtDrBA1ZUDeWo/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+038.jpg" border="0" /></a>Day two was spent rather lazily, bumming around the Lal Ghat area while getting my bearings. The highlight of the day was definitely touring the massive City Palace that happened to be right next door to our guest house. The architecture and sheer size were very impressive and, like much of India, stimulating to the imagination of how things must have been back when the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio897lR6CReTWQn7iJ5orhO0CiZhI_N1bVl9ro1CnXayQFf8r3oNORjk7iAAHVQjqodPwC3Ys7c1rH8WJWkfTT-7xRkKwAedLVye70gjfeBjaLEvSk1jOo61aPjzmxYe6aWp-rnQklUvw/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+041.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296753274276521090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio897lR6CReTWQn7iJ5orhO0CiZhI_N1bVl9ro1CnXayQFf8r3oNORjk7iAAHVQjqodPwC3Ys7c1rH8WJWkfTT-7xRkKwAedLVye70gjfeBjaLEvSk1jOo61aPjzmxYe6aWp-rnQklUvw/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+041.jpg" border="0" /></a>various maharajas ruled the region. After City Palace, while wandering around town and through some floral parks, I came across a zoo. “Hell, why not”, I said. 50 Rupees, time to kill. Yep, not surprising…lots of animals that all look rather unhappy to be there. I did see a tiger, some leopards and a Himalayan Black Bear, which was nice. And yes, they were all asleep dreaming of not being in a cage. That maybe the last zoo I visit.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfcKcLYxzbIIUOjcv1BNKsb7_57sRElg_j1HqZLNcosBwOIEa4oaMSuyrzD369UdWB57UFnPEH0NM5CsFA-XptV0k2Q3mjYuchUzCN3OTCQQcoA_-IEn5F_7CeJEqc44KkwoxMIjRJgg/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+076.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296754536467464994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfcKcLYxzbIIUOjcv1BNKsb7_57sRElg_j1HqZLNcosBwOIEa4oaMSuyrzD369UdWB57UFnPEH0NM5CsFA-XptV0k2Q3mjYuchUzCN3OTCQQcoA_-IEn5F_7CeJEqc44KkwoxMIjRJgg/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+076.jpg" border="0" /></a>That night me and my Danish comrades took a rickshaw up the mountain to the imposing Monsoon Palace (Sajjan Garh). After nearly burning out the feeble, little-engine-that-could of the glorified skooter with a frame, we arrived at the top for spectacular sunset views of Udaipur from above and the vast Thar Desert beyond. It was a great vantage point from so high and the colors of the desert really come out at dusk. Coming down, it was not so much the engine, but the brakes that we were worried about. No <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-r4SyYbnDY_1lwe-5RQBzchzazGtnqNMk04ixPo1eJmgmJcGTozOuIDsGejSH5NfOImP_wfzz1rAv9QtwzzqLEgGXLRYnu-Eo9fCCWVj4GebqRVcSYi6h6wQYqlCPmVRWzEFwUf459c/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+064.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296754528258807618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1-r4SyYbnDY_1lwe-5RQBzchzazGtnqNMk04ixPo1eJmgmJcGTozOuIDsGejSH5NfOImP_wfzz1rAv9QtwzzqLEgGXLRYnu-Eo9fCCWVj4GebqRVcSYi6h6wQYqlCPmVRWzEFwUf459c/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+064.jpg" border="0" /></a>problems. Another breezy, rooftop dinner for the night-capper.<br /><br />The next day was “Tour-De-Udaipur countryside” by bike and I really covered some ground on my city cruiser that I rented for 30 rupees for the day. First stop was Shilpgram, a small craft and performance village a few miles west of town. Nice, but a tad touristy, as everyone wanted a piece of my wallet. The ride there was actually much better. Next was Saheliyon-Ki-Badi, which was a beautiful ornamental garden, with tons of fountains and marble elephants. Last, and certainly not least, were the Ahar cenotaphs, which are tomb-like temples, honoring the many maharajas of Mewar (the surrounding area). The grounds were a little unkempt, but the centotaphs were incredible. Numbering over 250, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcGxGPXLIXaVyrFc5PmjDBPL4v7m1tepWe1CPuCigpOZtg_7leUatgeBAnC1WgaTYAlil81A8AWv_oqglZVds6djZ2c6x26qUQr_Nj3JHlP32f1k-yFycc8mbUIZgC6uiWOhleT4dUc8/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+127.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296754538600633650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcGxGPXLIXaVyrFc5PmjDBPL4v7m1tepWe1CPuCigpOZtg_7leUatgeBAnC1WgaTYAlil81A8AWv_oqglZVds6djZ2c6x26qUQr_Nj3JHlP32f1k-yFycc8mbUIZgC6uiWOhleT4dUc8/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+127.jpg" border="0" /></a>it was seemingly an endless range of milky-white structures when viewed from some of the higher ones. As I was leaving, I struck up a conversations with a gentleman (I forget his name) who happened to work there as, none other than the resident cremator Apparently, the families bring their “expired” to the grounds, where this man will have built the pyre of wood, at which point, the family deposits the body on top, lights the wood, spends an hour or so in prayer and remembrance, then leaves. According to this guy, flesh and bodies take 3 days before they’re completely turned to ash, adequate enough to urn. So naturally, I asked him if he ever got the eebie-jeebies performing such macabre duties for his job. He admitted that he did, but being a 5th generation cremator, it was his duty, and went on to indulge in some very fascinating stories of encounters with the spirits of the bodies he burned. This also led to a lesson in Hindu belief concerning karma, reincarnation, and so on. Food for thought, for sure!<br />After pedaling back to the Soni Paying Guest House, it was time for one more <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib9SmyKyc0YvbmWy5yUUF6n5rrR4fOscJaHqSYmVdLV4DF_tFZ2RR-yF4I9IVZGZ7FGQ05kSz7lVFHsk2TDsGvYT5UEoDczZU_t0j0HWgrQv2qkPHqF8C1QS6F0c8gnLUI6vhs8GHapcI/s1600-h/Pushkar-Udaipur+134.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296754559571787202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib9SmyKyc0YvbmWy5yUUF6n5rrR4fOscJaHqSYmVdLV4DF_tFZ2RR-yF4I9IVZGZ7FGQ05kSz7lVFHsk2TDsGvYT5UEoDczZU_t0j0HWgrQv2qkPHqF8C1QS6F0c8gnLUI6vhs8GHapcI/s320/Pushkar-Udaipur+134.jpg" border="0" /></a>glorious sunset over Lake Pichola and a final dinner with “the Danes” before bidding them “farewell” and seeing them off on their rickshaw to the bus station. I was to leave for Ranakpur to witness the intricate work of the Jain temples here. And here is where I am, in Ranakpur while I type, at the Shilpi Motel. Alas, now I must retire but will expound on the Jain’s work very soon! Good night!<br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-13597898272808771512009-01-26T20:54:00.000-08:002009-01-27T04:23:09.680-08:00Relaxation in Pushkar1/21/09...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEL-dRPE1OdP_gZ7MW7Pi9gYYfLQMEHoYofLSeS0zh1JrEDB2XxL1pjlo-AlRh-yI7jzqf8_iZqKaEU5erSLtSutxtHNacgPtR9MkSmb8UcZT6S82Kr8IsEazc21VOZOHf2nFy0weQ1uo/s1600-h/Pushkar+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295837652686553202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEL-dRPE1OdP_gZ7MW7Pi9gYYfLQMEHoYofLSeS0zh1JrEDB2XxL1pjlo-AlRh-yI7jzqf8_iZqKaEU5erSLtSutxtHNacgPtR9MkSmb8UcZT6S82Kr8IsEazc21VOZOHf2nFy0weQ1uo/s320/Pushkar+029.jpg" border="0" /></a>As I peer down from my perch at Café Enigma, a charming little rooftop restaurant, I can see a dazzling array of people, culture, history and life. The first stop beyond the hustle and bustle of<br /><br /><em>Cafe Enigma</em><br /><br />chaotic Delhi has brought me to the colorful and serene town of Pushkar in the state of Rajasthan, a tad southwest of Delhi, but worlds away in personality and size. The population of Pushkar is supposedly around 14,000. A mere speck of Delhi, a mile long strip of a busy road, perhaps. However one wishes to classify it, it sure is a welcome change for me. It’s a tourist town, which means lots of travelers, but has, from what I have heard and see, held it’s air of purity. It’s been utter amazement everywhere I look.<br /><br />It was sure difficult parting with Ryan, a sobbing, blubbering, resistant Ryan just a few days ago. When you spend nearly every minute of a whole month with someone, you can’t help but develop some sort of attachment to a person. And I think it’s safe to say that Ryan was not big on getting on that plane in the least bit. If not for her wonderful family, friends and students back in Colorado, I’m certain I’d have a travelling buddy. But needless to say, our stay in Delhi was magnificent in countless ways. I just hope and pray that we continue to see the subtle improvements in Ryan’s physical abilities as she returns to her everyday life.<br /><br />After seeing Ryan off at Indira Gandhi International Airport, the shift of comfort and safety nets to fending, survival and exploration had arrived. It was back to the winding, narrow alleyways of the Paharganj backpacker meld for my first nights accommodation. I stayed in the plain, but clean, My Hotel for the going rate of Rs. 300 (~$6) in the “cheapie” tier. For whatever reason, My Hotel was housing a big Korean crowd, with a very nice rooftop restaurant of Indian and Korean food. It was all I needed. The following day was surprisingly very productive, considering my lofty goals of investigating and purchasing immunizations and a train ticket to Pushkar. All was done by 5 in afternoon! I couldn’t believe it! By 6 I was all packed up, feeling safe with new immunizations (Typhoid, Hep A and B) and in possession of a ticket to Ajmer, Rajasthan (where I’d need to hop a half hour bus to Pushkar) for 4 in the morning. No worries…my thinking is I’d be so pumped up about travelling that sleep could wait and I’d just stay up all night. So I had a couple of beers and a good chat with some Indians and Europeans at the Gem Bar, made my way to the Delhi train station around 2 in the morning, and waited…and waited, and waited till 9:30 when the train finally left, 5 and a half hours late! The rail system of India is a whole culture unto itself and would like to write a whole blog in the future after I’m a little more experienced on the subject. But for now, I’ll say that I took the bottom class of a 5 class system of train accommodations which was actually very comfortable, till we came to Jaipur, the capital of Rajhasthan and had to disembark and take another train to Ajmer a few hours later. This train was a bit more crowded…crowded like I’ve never seen so many people crammed in such a small area before. It felt a little like I was on a train of POW’s being shipped off to an imprisonment camp or something. Maybe not that bad, but people just kept coming well after I thought we’d maxed out! It was a relief getting off that train, till I boarded the bus for Pushkar, which may have very well been crammed more than the train. Good thing it was only a half hour.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXhyXQ8le8DLvDv3UWgGIM4Tq4eaqD8SyRz5znhHuVLXZb6IW7dgilWw1uE_5zwfT73_OXr78AUWvsnE61fQxdx-CU1hhM-HEPoLE1a9dV4bKwTvCSJav-nKZkkuDmYTQM2cvzexy3zk/s1600-h/Pushkar+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295837655053340994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXhyXQ8le8DLvDv3UWgGIM4Tq4eaqD8SyRz5znhHuVLXZb6IW7dgilWw1uE_5zwfT73_OXr78AUWvsnE61fQxdx-CU1hhM-HEPoLE1a9dV4bKwTvCSJav-nKZkkuDmYTQM2cvzexy3zk/s320/Pushkar+002.jpg" border="0" /></a>Pushkar’s been the antidote to any Delhi/city blues that I may have had, which was realized after I got here. Peace and quiet…you forget these things in Delhi and I’m so glad Delhi was my first stop in India. It would have been tough to stomach a month there if it hadn't been. At any rate, Pushkar is home to the only (or one of very few) Brahma temples. In the Hindu religion, Brahma was the creator of the universe and has since been in a state of constant meditation. Most of the temples that I’ve seen or have heard of are dedicated to Shiva (the destroyer) and the elephant-headed Ganesh (the god of good fortune and remover of obstacles).<br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Brahma Temple</em><br /><em></em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4dnkuIEAtWbhbAb7A79dDzTTs1h-HIUNWclW-i37yzcII__YZYzmSrX2Z9mPy2KX3umsnjPpDkrLpejCdc8eEJBxSct2QPKvliVp-6bmsJlXknYXf98rtC2XLu0obbPVMtPRbSsYSjU/s1600-h/DSC00118.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295837650452048722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4dnkuIEAtWbhbAb7A79dDzTTs1h-HIUNWclW-i37yzcII__YZYzmSrX2Z9mPy2KX3umsnjPpDkrLpejCdc8eEJBxSct2QPKvliVp-6bmsJlXknYXf98rtC2XLu0obbPVMtPRbSsYSjU/s320/DSC00118.JPG" border="0" /></a>There are a couple of wonderful hill-top temples, Savitri and Pap Mochani, for those so-inclined to hike. Another antidote to the city malaise, the hikes were short, but steep and craggly and invigorating. They also afforded some great<br /><em></em><br /><em>Pushkar from Savitri Temple at Sunset</em><br /><br />views down upon Pushkar Lake and the desert beyond, as well as some up-close look at some crazy monkeys…I can’t get enough of the monkeys!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzL5wxvWSrDGo-uw22_YPOZCXh_DoJ_fovaQHyRx5jg5LLJUrZdpM0-OE64-JE9RQriRM-9eCs5uYopdM0m2DUP6NlxWc2vw_y0U0WS7uMqxR7FKPlNP8ko33edwowMosf8719gaZrGRs/s1600-h/DSC00072.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295835456020334882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzL5wxvWSrDGo-uw22_YPOZCXh_DoJ_fovaQHyRx5jg5LLJUrZdpM0-OE64-JE9RQriRM-9eCs5uYopdM0m2DUP6NlxWc2vw_y0U0WS7uMqxR7FKPlNP8ko33edwowMosf8719gaZrGRs/s320/DSC00072.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><em></em><br /><br /><em>A Tough Life for the Monkeys at Pop Mochani</em><br /><br /><br /><br />At the lakefront are 52 bathing ghats where pilgrams throughout India come to frolic in the sacred waters. Unfortunately, the many pesky priests leave a sour taste in your mouth, as they essentially force you to take flowers from them <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUS3HZA9uBTeGNGdfq6Ytfa0uIyKs1nDbmBVvIwyJTi0FKyTMNAfvB2JOWIqDtqBjcEtW5gMaIFWk7BomjD4ClAdHyJSfYtj0MkKwO7n2CWh7EKnOCzZOj25-ZWsr7DvAJoSj8SbEBuQ/s1600-h/DSC00082.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295835461933505154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUS3HZA9uBTeGNGdfq6Ytfa0uIyKs1nDbmBVvIwyJTi0FKyTMNAfvB2JOWIqDtqBjcEtW5gMaIFWk7BomjD4ClAdHyJSfYtj0MkKwO7n2CWh7EKnOCzZOj25-ZWsr7DvAJoSj8SbEBuQ/s320/DSC00082.JPG" border="0" /></a>and subsequently say for prayers for every member of your family, your karma, your self, this, that and the other for each petal and almost<br />demand lots of money, as a sacrifice, before you toss these petals into the lake. I’ve learned that, to avoid uncomfortable situations like these, you just cannot give anyone off the streets<br /><em>Puskar from Pop Mochani</em><br /><br />the ability to do ANYTHING for you, unless you want to give them money afterwards or otherwise feel extremely guilty about what they think you owe them. They’re good at doing this, but as soon as you have hard feelings about it, all you have to do is think about the plight they’re under and realize <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6XujWWWZ9lG4P70uyYvDlCTxggrsLs3JZ-ZOWrH26tN8tCfUu9ADGghKBqYUlY21DWHSf9e1a-chVCoYSq_hNjEqmbCLoKmv9fk_gIFwzeoqXAhaH9mGGwT0Ao6_46eWrE0lhKMyT46Q/s1600-h/DSC00103.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295835477459778114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6XujWWWZ9lG4P70uyYvDlCTxggrsLs3JZ-ZOWrH26tN8tCfUu9ADGghKBqYUlY21DWHSf9e1a-chVCoYSq_hNjEqmbCLoKmv9fk_gIFwzeoqXAhaH9mGGwT0Ao6_46eWrE0lhKMyT46Q/s320/DSC00103.JPG" border="0" /></a>they’re just trying to make a meager living. And there’s just so much need over here!<br /><br />But after thoroughly enjoying the chilled-out vibe and living for peanuts (Rs. 100 for accommodation and Rs. 30 to 60 for an very tasty meal, ~$2 and 60<br /><em>A not-so-pesky Priest</em><br /><br />cents, respectively) in Pushkar, alas, it is time to leave. I board a bus for the “Venice of the East”, Udaipur, where parts of Bond’s Octopussy where filmed. So I say good-"bye" to the many, and truly sincere, friends that I have made here from The Seventh Sea and Mama Luna Hotels and all over town and head for the desert horizon to Udaipur. More to come when I arrive!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgZ4eY1spxN6bVxG3nDXjnhhNHc0nrqp1_ydMcnqCosD4LoCaUAI_CNmGjxcgxVhSRe3bU1tDJrnNAbl-HtwE2YPVZCmK-T3ZgQBmNA0FbwgJJLijKu346fBYZNzUUsccyejeRtmugyI/s1600-h/DSC00101.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295835474959343602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgZ4eY1spxN6bVxG3nDXjnhhNHc0nrqp1_ydMcnqCosD4LoCaUAI_CNmGjxcgxVhSRe3bU1tDJrnNAbl-HtwE2YPVZCmK-T3ZgQBmNA0FbwgJJLijKu346fBYZNzUUsccyejeRtmugyI/s320/DSC00101.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em>My Petals in the Holy Waters</em><br /><br /><br /><em></em><br /><br /><em></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwi_Z9uYA31tmZgAHthr5TzVyV_FAswBnwK-XxyFC2Pi_tJRap2Pu1I1nyWo6EAGVtMjql_xEqAUxHsJm0xDKg3HEfbee_ZfPXOfFBbCRjSUvYwRs-OOq4T1m8dZHltyErAbvDzAxDPI/s1600-h/DSC00104.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295837643688846914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwi_Z9uYA31tmZgAHthr5TzVyV_FAswBnwK-XxyFC2Pi_tJRap2Pu1I1nyWo6EAGVtMjql_xEqAUxHsJm0xDKg3HEfbee_ZfPXOfFBbCRjSUvYwRs-OOq4T1m8dZHltyErAbvDzAxDPI/s320/DSC00104.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Monkey at the Ghats</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIPcwlJHe1I-6OhdHDG-RiWqzcKB70Q2uLqEBx2nbRIaB6bTX522a85JtsSpRwTedifVZSxU1Es5VjhBMAejWmmh-SN73E7Vt3a4qoE1PduxpXSE34V3E9ovL4l9pJhV5Dif6GEJUuZA/s1600-h/DSC00098.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295835467031076370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIPcwlJHe1I-6OhdHDG-RiWqzcKB70Q2uLqEBx2nbRIaB6bTX522a85JtsSpRwTedifVZSxU1Es5VjhBMAejWmmh-SN73E7Vt3a4qoE1PduxpXSE34V3E9ovL4l9pJhV5Dif6GEJUuZA/s320/DSC00098.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br /><em>The Far Side of Pushkar Lake</em>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-88505394335821366492009-01-20T23:15:00.000-08:002009-01-20T23:35:44.387-08:00The Stage is Set<p>January 14, 2009...</p><p>As I approach the last few days of phase one of project India, a more defined framework of the trip has began to appear. As stated in blog 1, the first part of the trip has found me in the friendly confines of NuTech Mediworld, meeting some great folks from all around the globe including Florida, Missouri, Washington, Oregon, Colorado and California in the U.S., Australia, the Mediterranean, and of course the warm staff at NuTech, mostly from India. It’s been an absolute pleasure spending time and interacting with everyone here, from the patients who are so eager to share their fears and excitement of their journey, to the doctors, physical therapists, nurses, ward boys and security guys. And last but not least, the reason I’m here…Ryan! It’s hard to imagine that we’ve known each other for a little over a year, since we’ve only spent a fraction of that time actually near one another in Denver and a few other trips while I was Portland and in Michigan. So it’s really been great getting to know her on a whole new level after spending much more time with her in the past month than in the previous year, all together. The way that she has adapted and overcame all of the adversity of such an experience has truly been amazing and again, I feel lucky to know a person with such zest for life and living. Her progress here has been subtle, but tangible. Not a day goes by that she’s not commenting on this or that sensation that’s arisen and I feel it’s only a matter of time before those circuits align and we start to see the results of this groundbreaking therapy. I can’t wait to hear about it.</p><p><br />As for the rest of the remainder of the trip, it’s all starting to come together, be it much shorter than initially planned. I just booked my flight home for April 11th! Consolation comes from believing (if all goes according to plan) that I’ll have plenty of days spent abroad in wild places like India in my future career, with hopefully a much greater impact on those communities. At any rate, in phase two, I’ll be covering some ground and it will be the travel portion of my trip. When Ryan’s not looking, I’ve been thumbing through my invaluable Lonely Planet guide to India, piecing together a loose trip itinerary for after she leaves and have come up with a pretty dandy little foray. As it stands today, from Delhi I’ll head southwest to the dry and arid landscape of the Thar desert and state of Rajhasthan, where the vibrance of the culture more than makes up for any lack of color from the landscape. Highlights on the list include the exuberant capital of the sate, Jaipur, the sun-tanned, camel-happy desert city of Jaisalmer and the holy city of Pushkar.<br /> </p><p>From Rajhasthan, I’ll head back up north, beyond Delhi toward the lofty peaks of the Himalayas. The area is home to many ancient cities and Raj-era hill stations of the days of the British. Highlights of this region include the spiritual epicenter, Rishikesh, where the Beatles came to seek enlightenment and meaning back in the 60’s, Moosorie, the queen of the British hill stations set in the shadows of the Himalayan giants, and Haridwar and Dehra Dun, two of the bigger cities of the area. I may need to indulge in a few extra layers of clothes around here as it can get downright frigid. </p><p>And it’s not likely to get much warmer when I head toward the land of world-renowned tea plantations and awe-inspiring views of the mountains in Darjeeling. En route to Darjeeling I plan to make a pit stop in Varanassi, largely considered India’s choicest pilgrimage destinations. What makes Varanassi so intriguing are the ghats arranged along one of the worlds most spiritual rivers, the Ganges. I’ve heard stories of Varanassi that are sure to shock even the most seasoned travelers at the heralded river where funeral pyres still exist. </p><p>After Varanassi and Darjeeling, I'll attempt to encroach further on the Himalayas in the state of Sikkim, which is situated in India and borders Nepal, Bhutan and Tibet. Off the tourist map a bit and off season, it should be a great stretch of peaceful solitude.</p><p>Finally, it'll be off to the state of Jharkhand for my volunteering stint, which has been confirmed and set for the month of March. Siddarth Sanyal is the man who runs the small project and has done a good job of producing youtube videos for those intrested in the project and potential volunteers, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/dakshinayan" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">www.youtube.com/dakshinayan</a> as well keeping up a blogpage of his own at <a href="http://www.dakshinayan.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">www.dakshinayan.blogspot.com</a>. Check 'em out!</p><p>Ok, I'm off. Posted blogs from here on out may be past the time they're written since I do have my laptop, but not always internet and am going to try to consolidate my internet chores so it's less time and less expensive. Until we meet again...</p>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-8074333248123843202009-01-09T19:50:00.000-08:002009-01-10T06:19:06.047-08:00All In a Morning JogIt's been my ritual throughout my vast travels and new residences that, when I arrive somewhere new, I jog to explore the fresh, new surroundings. Delhi has been no different. With all its touts of mad traffic and the severe density of people, you wouldn't think that a peaceful stroll down the lovely boulevard would be in the cards, but I've been fortunate in our location at the hospital. Green Park is situated in a relatively quiet neighborhood (for Delhi anyways) nearby one of the cities premier parks, Deer Park (also Hauz Khas and Rose Garden adjoined).<br /><br />You could just as easily take a taxi of a new area and see more, but your experience is restricted to your sense of sight. You can't smell what's cooking or touch your surroundings. You could go for a walk, but you simply cannot cover much distance in a short amount of time. Yes, exploratory jogs are the way to go for the perfect blend of interaction, scope and excersize while diving into new territory. Plus, you get priceless stares of wonder from the locals, whose fitness is geared a little more towards yoga and mediation and definitely not running. It's pretty hilarious!<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>So, in attempt to capture what I've come across in one, 45-minute jog and to celebrate my new e-bay-India camera that came the other day, here goes:<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOpNkKrf_RuW6-w-i9hjDK3D0AYtX060F9Q3zHIqPiGZkzx1izfzmnpCjYj1qZW1lhUNp1ClNTQfY1-KpzQ7muzVV2diccB_m1-Ff9t5GX-y9upo13HDUCC93qan2bEARsrLMOi85NUQ/s1600-h/P1020019.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289559375338841234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOpNkKrf_RuW6-w-i9hjDK3D0AYtX060F9Q3zHIqPiGZkzx1izfzmnpCjYj1qZW1lhUNp1ClNTQfY1-KpzQ7muzVV2diccB_m1-Ff9t5GX-y9upo13HDUCC93qan2bEARsrLMOi85NUQ/s320/P1020019.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /></div><div>This picture was taken literally right across the street from the hospital. Yep, that's a donkey. Also behind the car, is a vendor frying up some naan (Indian flat bread). </div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /> </div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAcspNFp4vecgrIla4w6IK2KxGr-WEE5xqYpeuUL7KZlHF2V9YQeTy-TdzuyXAIYP_AN-4vWhN43kL9DHCuq69_mNkPi5ePMAa8Ye_H8b0c0zAUzFrJaXh-HeeLnoM8k5DxXLsczfztf4/s1600-h/P4010003.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289661861915882418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAcspNFp4vecgrIla4w6IK2KxGr-WEE5xqYpeuUL7KZlHF2V9YQeTy-TdzuyXAIYP_AN-4vWhN43kL9DHCuq69_mNkPi5ePMAa8Ye_H8b0c0zAUzFrJaXh-HeeLnoM8k5DxXLsczfztf4/s320/P4010003.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>After bidding Eeyore a "good morning" it's down through <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5z2r4DOL6v_qJ_Gn3FxQdn7Uh2rFNDV410cXgXUMiSA7gRMGHTbFxWEy7278Q7QM9dCvr2JzZAfeQBJgi5HoM0EuXa0ZKQZzieXl8Wrb-IPrlwn2XggVL7wgjrHJi83DA85nIpSk2Ujc/s1600-h/P4010003.JPG"></a>Green Park Market, a cozy little strip</div><div>of flowers, (shown right) fruit and chai vendors and other shops of necessities and as well as less necessary establishments (e.g. Sony Center (also shown right), McDonald's and I think a Pizza Hut...grr). Notice the gentleman, middle of the photo to the right, quietly meditating through the surrounding traffic! </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhW9z0CFsFkl4AB9MvUDoD0jmpjr2er47_icI7mNEuCYj7ImXolpIOqyi_pzvFiszplDGwW7b6d0AUoKfgSsEZZnzQWsC8PKUQ9d7-9T22b3QJK-3bjNOO0B75eRYVt07kYETEQH-e3TQ/s1600-h/P1020020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289571268378404274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhW9z0CFsFkl4AB9MvUDoD0jmpjr2er47_icI7mNEuCYj7ImXolpIOqyi_pzvFiszplDGwW7b6d0AUoKfgSsEZZnzQWsC8PKUQ9d7-9T22b3QJK-3bjNOO0B75eRYVt07kYETEQH-e3TQ/s320/P1020020.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div>At the end of market, but before Deer Park lies this lone majestic temple.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOZnfDm2NU8nG2mYYURpE-xKctzZFg9LI7rsT35jwU86Vv5DQwULBLoJGcCkkEbCoNBFPw7BCRwu2gvpdVySJKrpizybSPL53fTFGi4qcdvoXK57az2sdLity1oRA-apIrbf6QxT2GIA/s1600-h/P1020023.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289667426751571682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOZnfDm2NU8nG2mYYURpE-xKctzZFg9LI7rsT35jwU86Vv5DQwULBLoJGcCkkEbCoNBFPw7BCRwu2gvpdVySJKrpizybSPL53fTFGi4qcdvoXK57az2sdLity1oRA-apIrbf6QxT2GIA/s320/P1020023.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Further down the road on the edge of the park are a whole group of temples and ruins that are perched above the Hauz Khas section of Deer Park.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwgxCA0bVL1619yFA6yTGsVZ78CRendBYSwZN0-m-Kjzgom5tM3Xq8eZwjdB0BuvtRAlOwjY25w91Ruk8T_aWSjTgYI7IjLnJWagMjxOl-LpDsNZ8IAQ_Iw0_28rigDO3snhMgT7DBPiQ/s1600-h/P1020024.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289581329372110050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwgxCA0bVL1619yFA6yTGsVZ78CRendBYSwZN0-m-Kjzgom5tM3Xq8eZwjdB0BuvtRAlOwjY25w91Ruk8T_aWSjTgYI7IjLnJWagMjxOl-LpDsNZ8IAQ_Iw0_28rigDO3snhMgT7DBPiQ/s320/P1020024.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>More ruins above Hauz Khas Park. Notice the lagoon below. </div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDv_KhGcUFI9OvbKoX0s8CGRjdrqpr33WieNNE5of0RlxvdG9bF7zDvuxrHD725tpZ0O-5ieZWygQ-CsBd_sjlg8wRr150mQHsI5v-TgmyaZbKjFDk6euJHjpZR0RMte0zxuydm4i7has/s1600-h/P1020026.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289581978764440434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDv_KhGcUFI9OvbKoX0s8CGRjdrqpr33WieNNE5of0RlxvdG9bF7zDvuxrHD725tpZ0O-5ieZWygQ-CsBd_sjlg8wRr150mQHsI5v-TgmyaZbKjFDk6euJHjpZR0RMte0zxuydm4i7has/s320/P1020026.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>More ruins and the subject, himself.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPA8FpHwYfli7nSVfK-YFfMEcgI700LFJdGFKg-Ed9jpyRg0XAoXaTWspvGXNMzJO_XMH-LZ4MXkPc4VP5GMriuHWKDXpbejf4XVTuxsLHnUZINEzjgekjpIKrHu9ulcrT1RYmMNbFzU/s1600-h/P1020029.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289582800233776098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPA8FpHwYfli7nSVfK-YFfMEcgI700LFJdGFKg-Ed9jpyRg0XAoXaTWspvGXNMzJO_XMH-LZ4MXkPc4VP5GMriuHWKDXpbejf4XVTuxsLHnUZINEzjgekjpIKrHu9ulcrT1RYmMNbFzU/s320/P1020029.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /></div><div>Still the same collection of ruins. Notice the modern buildings in the background. These contrasting elements of architecture and eras in Delhi are unbelievably common!</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiP24XDAOWeod6vfKBCKqfvFB-08c4_hirx1t6fzpBh_JNrvVoS2pA9zbxxj1UNkGNDohcHpLVnCrGhiUYZ9ozNGJ6OLe3nwNdUnA6w_yMDTbvLHJlk6ZeVsHddMSHssYTtTf4wNYy5BA/s1600-h/P1020031.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289583430266880738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiP24XDAOWeod6vfKBCKqfvFB-08c4_hirx1t6fzpBh_JNrvVoS2pA9zbxxj1UNkGNDohcHpLVnCrGhiUYZ9ozNGJ6OLe3nwNdUnA6w_yMDTbvLHJlk6ZeVsHddMSHssYTtTf4wNYy5BA/s320/P1020031.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>On the other side of the walls of the ancient civilasation was this quasi-slum or shanty neighborhood. There was a man asking me not to take pictures and I kindly obliged. But this gentleman insisted he be photographed and the nay-sayer agreed. Behind him to the right begin the shanties and the children were ever so cute and curious!</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLbKRueA9TB7TSQHouwTOr_Gj5rtnlhSUfSEK7c5tKS2wb6ZMx474lzPumxDd7lzu_EyEueiWS03QOtczuxR2Vzoz1yHjlW86es2OPfwkussrbqKp-Sm-fAZfeusZU3Zfo6cTUwtghHs/s1600-h/P1020033.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289584116056149042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLbKRueA9TB7TSQHouwTOr_Gj5rtnlhSUfSEK7c5tKS2wb6ZMx474lzPumxDd7lzu_EyEueiWS03QOtczuxR2Vzoz1yHjlW86es2OPfwkussrbqKp-Sm-fAZfeusZU3Zfo6cTUwtghHs/s320/P1020033.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>On the southern border of Deer Park you find the chichi Hauz Khas neighborhood. It's a little hard to tell from this picture, but what a difference a few hundred feet can make in India, as you can compare to the above picture. Either way, such a neat place and super narrow alleyways!</div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrKrXErh_b3ShXPzOBnx6WI_xaORAfHKSqoN2wF_NqnMShdj8hCf9hCcV1gs3HjWR4a4K9ThNYGE-MnmH8a3zKSEW_fbFotRIbyN8Lg-cb-3difKAzp_5Nwt6YP4kLMIJbjCl-SGEoQw/s1600-h/P1020035.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289584862166669410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrKrXErh_b3ShXPzOBnx6WI_xaORAfHKSqoN2wF_NqnMShdj8hCf9hCcV1gs3HjWR4a4K9ThNYGE-MnmH8a3zKSEW_fbFotRIbyN8Lg-cb-3difKAzp_5Nwt6YP4kLMIJbjCl-SGEoQw/s320/P1020035.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Here is Hauz Khas park with a old temple at the top of this small hill. </div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s7ugr9b-JZH8M5Ys8YX6r2HTWUFH1miAHo8OYEaudP18ngpsv3EYZGt0vZxPmWdtLMnZYamZEo564oZPBk8VJOe4YQpaCK8FbZXVtrVQH3iZwrYz8OIhnLDwI_R3kzKc50Qd5d_F2sQ/s1600-h/P1020039.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289585612673746978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s7ugr9b-JZH8M5Ys8YX6r2HTWUFH1miAHo8OYEaudP18ngpsv3EYZGt0vZxPmWdtLMnZYamZEo564oZPBk8VJOe4YQpaCK8FbZXVtrVQH3iZwrYz8OIhnLDwI_R3kzKc50Qd5d_F2sQ/s320/P1020039.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s7ugr9b-JZH8M5Ys8YX6r2HTWUFH1miAHo8OYEaudP18ngpsv3EYZGt0vZxPmWdtLMnZYamZEo564oZPBk8VJOe4YQpaCK8FbZXVtrVQH3iZwrYz8OIhnLDwI_R3kzKc50Qd5d_F2sQ/s1600-h/P1020039.JPG"></a></div><div>This picture shows the "below" view the above picture with the lagoon below. Here's looking up to the ruins from the lagoon.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsZ3ivYf7wpVMi9sRUPDbtUWPkVZfWu04ShqoxerkKizJ_CAUo4uwohPXoFXxyOnIApzbxqrRKsTzaIhJ8mDPzWyRW_ehDoOHnrQQBEt-YPZQ7lx5l7C2cgWxj636-1FvyjRSe6JMDH8/s1600-h/P1020040.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289586120014497746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFsZ3ivYf7wpVMi9sRUPDbtUWPkVZfWu04ShqoxerkKizJ_CAUo4uwohPXoFXxyOnIApzbxqrRKsTzaIhJ8mDPzWyRW_ehDoOHnrQQBEt-YPZQ7lx5l7C2cgWxj636-1FvyjRSe6JMDH8/s320/P1020040.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /></div><div>Between Hauz Khas and the Rose Garden is a forested area where the ubiquitous game of Cricket is being played by neighborhood children.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENG4UVexglfY3uNHFPicK9x68X18n-l46cl7AfoWALw9pIV5plhqegc4wcZEhSTRuel2f4M5-DbxILDKNIoDDXe5bv9GBt_pljgAkXgzRg1VFbz3EEmqJZWPnKgnCOEQgWoMWsa39v-w/s1600-h/P1020041.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289586646214026786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENG4UVexglfY3uNHFPicK9x68X18n-l46cl7AfoWALw9pIV5plhqegc4wcZEhSTRuel2f4M5-DbxILDKNIoDDXe5bv9GBt_pljgAkXgzRg1VFbz3EEmqJZWPnKgnCOEQgWoMWsa39v-w/s320/P1020041.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Peacocks between Hauz Khas and the Rose Garden.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzaNOR4QwLjvuE-uDNqQUz93rjtQIbsZQdwwEGPWPbjZe-QZAD04nHc-cC2moTzsEEn3j9M6KdWb5Yg2bOHFQRRt8hVBHyhdhPkKS-l_pgjc0XwQ6BBCCkY-9leLLoRWJHn1v6fqX7U4/s1600-h/P1020045.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289587236970080658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzaNOR4QwLjvuE-uDNqQUz93rjtQIbsZQdwwEGPWPbjZe-QZAD04nHc-cC2moTzsEEn3j9M6KdWb5Yg2bOHFQRRt8hVBHyhdhPkKS-l_pgjc0XwQ6BBCCkY-9leLLoRWJHn1v6fqX7U4/s320/P1020045.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>The beautiful and wonderfully aromatic Rose Garden.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div><div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4dyNRUWOVX52lBJJ6SR_Jh9xvtZXZS53dUJcd94NxqNPkZ5MqXQwMysWxmFZsgkUXq3d6FqU1IKgu-fevo1rmqyuEcJdysNGSjD7m9_OtJdYo9lVzrOWzMshySD8r67d1squ2_sCCpo/s1600-h/P1020049.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289587786063621666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4dyNRUWOVX52lBJJ6SR_Jh9xvtZXZS53dUJcd94NxqNPkZ5MqXQwMysWxmFZsgkUXq3d6FqU1IKgu-fevo1rmqyuEcJdysNGSjD7m9_OtJdYo9lVzrOWzMshySD8r67d1squ2_sCCpo/s320/P1020049.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>And finally, an appropriate picture for Deer Park! I think these are called Hog Deer.</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /> </div><div>So there you go...this took way longer than it should have and now I'm exhausted and am done! Next time it'll hopefully go a lot quicker, so check back for more soon!</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-13080070008350777442008-12-31T01:24:00.000-08:002008-12-31T02:55:54.579-08:00Good Riddance Delhi Belly/2008!Not that I'd expect it any different from this bizzare place, tonight's sure to provide another strange holiday on the other side of the planet. Not being one for extravagance, glitz or glam, it has been my suggestion that we head over to the so-called "backpacker hub" of Delhi called the Paharganj neighborhood, in place of the $80USD package "deals" at the swankiest and most posh nightclubs the city has to offer. And we've seen many offers. Besides, I'm not sure anything above the Ruby Tuesday's we saw the other day would accept as shabby a lookin' character as myself sportin' the Carhart's, filthy New Balance and a dirty beard. Paharganj is where the most frugal flock, those shoestring travellers where money is an issue and love it that way. These folks have the real stories to tell and are my kind of people. So to the gritty, rough-around-the-edges, Paharganj we go. It'll probably be an enormous bust...I'll let ya know!<br /><br />However tonight unfolds, I and many close to me will welcome the prospect of a new year, as 2008 was nothing short of an all out roller coaster ride. Although there were many extremely difficult periods, I hope that we can all say that we came through stronger, with a better grip on ourselves and that we grew! I claimed residence to 2 new cities (Denver and Portland), made a different home at the Belton Chalet in Glacier Park, MT, lived back home for a stint in Michigan and am now in India. I love travelling, but that list is absurd! Security and stability are not yet in my vocabulary. But I'm working on it, all the while never hoping to gain them completely. On my horizon lies the promise of some big moves which I hope to share when they become closer to reality.<br /><br />On a more uncomfortable level, I've been blessed with what most travellers that spend any time in Delhi experience...Delhi Belly, for the past few days. What this translates to is (at least in my case) sudden and severe knotting of the stomach, a throbbing headache, OCCASIONAL whining and wimpering (which Ryan has grossly exaggerated and made abundantly clear on her blog) in bed, and last but not least, an unfathomable amount of trips to the toilet with complete destruction of the bathroom (for this, Ryan has every right to complain). So this hampered our production for a few days, including one our precious Sundays (free days from the hospital), but nevertheless can keep me down only so long. I was back to my morning run today. And I still stand by my theory...no guts not glory, when it comes to street food. I'll never give it up! My goal of an iron gut by the time I die is underway.<br /><br />A few other notes...I saw my first monkey today during aforementioned morning job, munching away on some fruit from a plastic bag in the park. This came just before it was chased up a tree by a dog. I'm waiting on a camera that I ordered from ebay-India so that I can spruce up my page with pretty pictures. That should make a blog way more interesting since everyone prefers exotic pictures over bland blabbering. And sadly, it seems that this trip will not be able to last as long as originally hoped due to Continental not allowing my ticket to be extending beyond 6 months of the original start date (Ryan had to buy my ticket round-trip with hers). More on that later when I know for sure.<br /><br />Happy New Year!Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-25346233784108542772008-12-24T19:55:00.000-08:002008-12-25T00:07:34.783-08:00Christmas in DelhiA Very Merry Christmas everyone! Even though I'm in a country where a mere 2% of the population claim to be Christian, it seems that India is still embracing this worldwide event. Grabbing a bite at the local Evergreen Market last night (Christmas Eve) gave us a comical glimpse at the effort of the neighborhood in the form of the skinniest, silliest and pathetically masked Santa Clause jollily bouncing around, passing out candy and scaring little children. It was a riot! Fitting the "land of Christmas" profile, we've received many "Merry Christmases" from all those we meet on the street. According to Ryan (I was still asleep), there was a small parade out our window this morning complete with a band director and cute kids banging on drums. And to top off the list, after chatting with the other westerners at the hospital, there's going to be some holiday cheer downstairs in the common area, full with a performance from the staff (much to their chagrin) and strangely enough, a smorgasboard of way over-priced italian food. No worry, we're very excited that we'll be able to celebrate the tradition in a not-so-traditional location and atmosphere. Oh yeah, and that common area is decked to the hilt with Christmas fanciness!<br /><br /><br /><br />Other than that, things have been just wonderful. It's so nice being able to ease into my India trip with the luxury of the room and board here. Things are undoubtedly going to be far more chaotic when I'm on my own, but that's the only way I'd have it! In addition to the comfort of not worrying about having to find a hostel or worrying about eating when when you don't want to, I'm slowly finding the feel for dealing with the locals and the dizzying pace of Delhi life. I've been hailing tuk-tuks (auto-rickshaws), wheeling and dealing with the vendors and market people, learning how to assertively cross the street (more difficult that it sounds!) but still trying to figure out how to deal with the heart-wrenching scenes of the desperately destitute. It's hard to justify not giving to a legless man swinging himself up to you with his arms, or an overwrought woman displaying her childs disfigured and infected limbs. Especially just after paying a little extra for that shirt you just bought. But I am trying to be as intentional with my business as I can, but that's a whole blog's worth of writing...at least.<br /><br />With an update on my volunteer/work hunting, the search is proving more difficult than hoped. That is to say, nothing has fallen into my lap. But I do have at least one good lead with the only problem with it being that it is not health oriented. Dakshinayan, a very small organisation in the rural and newly formed state of Jharkhand, was put together in early 90's and focuses on the teaching children of their many spread out native tribes. The best part about the organisation is its sensitivity to imroving their culture through educating their youth, while still maintaining their invaluable traditional values and culture. There has been some dialogue with the director, but I would still ideally like to capture an opportunity that's specifically public health. This would still provide an amazing experience which would still be completely applicable in international interaction. The website is dakshinayan.org if you're interested and they also have some great videos availabe if you youtube "dakshinayan". Stayed tuned for updates!<br /><br />Finally, a quick update on Ryan's treatment. She has clearly come a long way from when she first arrived for her summer treatment with her balance, deep sensations and all of her physical therapy exersizes. It's very exciting, and especially so when I can point out improvements that are outwardly clear even to me. This hasn't come without a lot of discomfort and effort. As you might imagine, the more you feel, the more you're able to sense pain before your body has a chance to adjust. Her first procedure was evidence of this and her wider range of feeling and you can get the first hand account on her on her blogpage at <a href="http://ryanmcleanfund.blogspot.com/">http://ryanmcleanfund.blogspot.com/</a> if you'd like. But needless to say, I'm so proud of the way she's taken everything in stride and relentless determination as her body continues to undergo major changes.<br /><br />Ok, I'm leaving to go celebrate Jesus' birthday with the rest here at Nu Tech Mediworld. Merry Christmas and God bless!Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-81396765829713281722008-12-20T19:34:00.000-08:002008-12-20T19:48:41.568-08:00AcclimationI’m sitting in our pitch dark room at the Nu Tech Mediworld hospital in Green Park, Delhi, India rehashing the first few days of acclimating to the extreme hustle and bustle of my new temporary home. It’s 6 a.m., Ryan’s still asleep and I thought I’d may as well just get up instead of fool myself into thinking I can sleep some more. The room is perfectly comfortable. Our circadian clocks, however, are royally screwed, to put it lightly, since our 14-hour flight flew against the spin of the Earth, causing us to lose 13 and a half hours. It’s 7:30 p.m. E.S.T. I feel so cheated!<br /><br />That’s not true, I feel so lucky to be so comfortably uncomfortable. The air quality in Delhi is the poorest I’ve seen…by far! Cars, rickshaws, bicycles, tractors and every other automobile whizz by at breakneck speeds, bob and weave through spaces you’d believe they’d never fit, all the while their drivers unceasingly laying on the horn. I’m convinced that some horns are eternally “on” with a button to occasionally silence them. There are shanty towns around every corner and garbage is everywhere. This place is raw and I love it…for now anyways! I’ll likely be in search of reprieve when Ryan leaves mid January.<br /><br />But the positives far outweigh these negatives. The negatives are the positives, in a way possibly. Hmm, hard to understand and harder to explain. Of the initial explorations and observations, the people here appear curiously content. They just seem to be “ok”, with whatever it is they’re doing; even the lowest of the low on the totem pole. There are oases of vibrant color among deserts of the most drab. Mouthwatering smells of teas and spices amidst exhaust and smog. Patches of lush greenery, exotic birds and ancient temples surrounded by the dilapidation of the modern world. These first few days have been a complete awakening of the senses.Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-79597577181258130762008-12-02T16:17:00.000-08:002008-12-07T21:30:29.150-08:00Devastation in Mumbai, Cabin Fever in MichiganOn the evening of November 26th, while most of us were out buying last minute groceries, on the road or in the air travelling to be with our loved ones or perhaps just salivating over visions of turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing, a quite different reality was brewing in the Indian city of Mumbai. Sadly, for many involved, the reality was deadly; deadly to the tune of at least 188 casualties with another 293 estimated to be injured on a gruesome attack on humanity. These figures are truely startling as was the manner of violence that these 10 terrorists upheld. Though it was said that some of the killers were searching out those with American and British passports, it was later revealed and obvious that the slayings were indiscriminant, if not primarily directed toward the peaceful citizens of India, who took the brunt of the bloodshed with 158 deaths. Not surprising, the nation of India is outraged. My heart goes out to all those affected.<br /><br />I'd be lying if I were to say that this accident has not made me wonder about my safety in a nation whose top priority is certainly not security. At first it seemed to me that the terrorists were targeting the extravagance of The Taj Mahal Palace and Tower and the Oberoi Trident Hotel where rooms run at least US$325 and are frequented by western travellers and the Indian elite. As more information became available it became clear that the attacks were cast on all races and nationalities. Following the initial shock and grief, I began to think how this might effect my trip. I thought of the first blog I wrote, of the nirvana-like image I tried to compose of India. Watching the drama unfold on the news that night, I had recalled learning, just a few nights before as I read up on Mumbai in my Lonely Planet guide about the popular, Leopold's Cafe. This cafe, I read, was a tourist hotspot where "most tourists end up at this Mumbai travellers' institution at one time or another" and where "a rambuncious atomosphere conducive to swapping tales with random strangers" would definitely be a place that I could spend a little time. 10 people died at Leopold's Cafe and another 58 at Chhatrapati Shivaji rail terminus, where any shoestring traveller such as myself would pass through! These are places I would be! For the record, I can safely say that I will not be anywhere near any luxurious hotels such as the Taj or the like. $5 hostels suit me just fine!<br /><br />It does make me wonder, though I do not fear and remain steadfast and dedicated to this trip. Since all of this has happened I've heard lots of theories why a comfortable, safe American does not belong India. Firstly, if anyone thinks that by staying put in our own country is the only sure way to keep safe from terrorists or terrorism, all we have to do is remember 9/11, where not 188, but 2,974 innocent died. Furthermore, I feel that terrorism is not confined to the outward machine gun and grenade melee that we've seen in these and other attacks. No, terrorism can be more subtle and the problem is not locality. Secondly, wouldn't we become prisoners of these malicious terrorists' ideals to not continue in a path to our hopes and dreams. I think we'd do right by them to fear and alter our journeys. After all, isn't that what they're after; to disrupt, to promote chaos? Moreover, as the story plays out, the roots of this violence and hatred appear to be rooted further beneath the surface than most of us outsiders realize.<br /><br />Resisting the temptation to turn this blog into a history/sociology lesson, I'd like to quickly bring to attention a deep hatred that has persisted between India and their bitter rivals and neighbors to the west, Pakistan. I recently watched the magnificent 3+ hour-long film, Gandhi. A LOT happened and turns out Gandhi was more than just a little Indian in a loincloth who walked a lot. Gandhi almost single-handedly brought India out of British rule and into independence, by, you guessed it...non-violence. Oddly enough, India's real troubles began with the clashing and eventual segregation of the Hindus and Muslims following their victory of independence. A partition of India was the consensus of the political leaders (not to Gandhi, but he reluctantly agreed), which drew the lines of Muslim majority Pakistan and East Pakistan (present day Bangladesh) and the Hindu majority, present day India. The coming years saw a great deal of violence between Hindus and Muslims, over and within the borders of each country, which prompted Gandhi's famous fast-to-death as a means to quell the insanity. The fast nearly took Gandhi's life, but miraulously elimited almost all violence between Muslims and Hindus in the region. Gandhi, eventually recovered after a satisfatory improvement, but was assasinated on the 30th of January, 1948 by a Hindu extremist and strife has cloaked the region of India and Pakistan, Hindus and Muslims ever since. The attacks on Mumbai and India by what is widely believed to be Pakistani terrorist groups has just doused this bonfire with gasoline and the reactions are incendiary.<br /><br />Meanwhile in Michigan, I've grown anxious. Perhaps I've jumped the gun on the actual commencement of this journey. It seems more like a year, not a month, since this trip was realized and the days getting longer and longer. What's worse is that I can admit with a straight face that I've got a patchy t.v. schedule to follow each day, have been looking forward to the next victim voted off of Survivor - Gabon and have solved a mission in Ghost Recon 2, the X-Box game. Last Thursday and Friday did, however, provide a substantive reason to get out of bed (and rather early, at that) to substitute teach 4th graders and high school/junioir high gym class, respectively. What a treat, to actually put my time toward something other than slugging coffee and surfing the net all day! If only I can get that elusive wake-up call from here on, until I leave. Alas, the 17th draws nearer!<br /><br />Back in India, many citizens have become restless. They've expressed an intolerable rage and want revenge and punishment to those who have brought such destruction to their peaceful nation. What would Gandhi think? I'll end with with a few quotes from the little Indian in the loincloth..."Nonvioloence is the greatest force at the disposal of mankind. It is mightier than the mightiest weapon of destruction devised by the ingenuity of man" and "an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind." Does this kind of courage exist today?Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813466927569472999.post-20614179676951596892008-11-13T19:14:00.000-08:002008-12-06T15:04:17.057-08:00Lending a hand and testing the watersWelcome everyone to what I hope will be an entertaining, informative, interesting and otherwise strange blog of an adventure abroad to a most exotic land...India. To call India exotic may be an understatement. Here's a sampling of just a few of the extremes gracing this wondrous land. India is the worlds second most populous nation, but only seventh largest; home to worlds largest mountain range (the Himalayas) and seventh largest desert (The Thar); contains the worlds largest film industry (Bollywood) and is where 23 different constitutionally recognised languages can be heard in more than 1600 dialects. Names that have become indelibly synonomous with India include Shiva, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Siddartha Gautama (Buddha) and Gandhi, all representing the astounding array of religions, lifestyles and beliefs that have been found in India throughout history and still present today. Diverse? I'd say so...<br /><br />What has drawn me to such a place as this? Well, as some of you who know me well, I have been sort of infatuated with the idea of India. Some of it doesn't really make sense, seeing that I become quite uncomfortable in hot, muggy weather (India has many areas regularly over 100 degrees with high humidity) and around large groups of people. Yes, this is true, however these do not come close to comparing to the countless other factors that I find incredibly intruiginging such as the lofty Himalayas, an extraordinary ecology (elephants, monkeys, tigers, etc.), complete and utter strangeness of a bizarre culture and of course, the chai and curry...yum-o!<br /><br />On top of these curiosities and really most importantly are two other compelling reasons, first of which includes the support of a dear friend whom I met in my short stint in Denver, CO last year. It was through a mutual friend that I met Ryan McLean, a very special person and inspiration to all! Almost 12 years ago now Ryan was in a horrible car accident leaving a high school dance and her life instantly changed forever. Some in the accident did not make it, but Ryan was fortunate enough to come away from the accident alive, albeit not without sustaining a spinal chord injury that would leave her paralyzed from her chest to her toes.<br /><br />While she continues to amaze with her ability to do more than most who are not restricted to a wheel chair, she has decided to seek a radicial and controversial medical therapy using embryonic stem cells...in India. The U.S. is unfortunately just a little to conservative to lead this progressive front. She and the rest of those receiving this groundbreaking treatment have encountered much resistence from the doubters, but in the research that I've done, people HAVE walked away from the treatment (pardon the pun) who were once considered to have incurable spinal chord injuries. This will be Ryan's second round of treatments, with the first having greatly increased blood flow through hips and legs, expanded her trunk movement (which she had very little prior) as well as the exciting development of "sweating, goosebumps and deep-touch sensations" in areas once devoid of these reactions. Going in without any expectations, but with the highest hopes, it will be an incredible experience for the both of us and I am proud to be there for her. We leave for India on the 17th of December!<br /><br />Ryan's treatment will span a month, at which point she will leave to return to the U.S. and I will stay to take on the second phase of my trip. This second phase will be dedicated to getting my feet wet and taking a glimpse into my hopeful future career in international public health. With all of the wonderful images a nation like India can conjure, it can also expose the lesser aspects of the culture, many of which include a sad caste system of discrimination of those groups of the forgotten (i.e. the Untouchables). This unfortunate circumstance, in conjunction with general poor health practices that accompany such densely populated areas, breed a straggling and unequal health system that is in desperate need assistance. Ideally, I would become involved in some organisation (governmental or non-governmental agency) to get a peak at how this health system works, what's being done to improve it, how a person gets involved, etc., and otherwise contribute my brawn and brains to a greater cause.<br /><br />Please feel free to check out Ryan's blog (right-hand navigation). There's lots up in the air at this point so keep your fingers crossed and stay tuned...Grahamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10383909682851440008noreply@blogger.com6