After about two months of driving...
We woke up in the morning with plans to go see an ancient temple and Almora, a hill station. Nanital, the hill station we were staying, has a beautiful lake in the center of town. We decided to have a walk around the lake before moving onto our planned activities for the day. The air was cool but still nowhere near how cold it is in the bay area. It was odd seeing the same Indian garb and markets in a setting that I associate with the west: mountains and a lake. Walking around the lake, my dad got his first taste of Indian markets and bargaining. He also tried his first street food- samosas.
Near the end of our walk we came upon small temple/shrine thing on the side of the lake. It was bright yellow and red and smelled like incense. There were bells hanging all over it. The trail around the lake ended with a gravel cricket field with a beautiful white mosque in the background. Sports and religion- we combine the two in the US.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Driving to Nanital- 30 miles per Hour
With my dad coming into town, we were set to explore Delhi, the hills east of Delhi (Almora and Nanital) and Agra. First on the list was Delhi. I was actually really nervous to go to Delhi. It had been just a week since the terrorist attacks on Mumbai and an email was sent to someone saying that the terrorists planned to hijack a plane on December 6th (when I was flying) and perform a 9/11 on Delhi, the airport I was going. I set up a ride from the airport so we could run right out of the place and into a safe car.
The flight was lovely and security was tight. I carried on luggage for the first time so we could leave the airport even faster. Our flight went smoothly and exited the airport with ease as our driver was waiting for us. We let our driver know we were going to Nanital, a beautiful hill station east of Delhi. Nanital is around 390 kilometers away, which is about 240 miles. Knowing that it takes about 5 hours to get to Santa Barbara which is 350 or so miles away, I figured we could look around Nanital some. This trip made me understand the beauty of the roads of America. It took us 9 hours to make this drive! For a 10 kilometer patch, there was no paved road, just pot holes and bumps. At another point, there was a one way bridge that had means to regulate which direction of traffic would go. The cars coming from the different direction were more aggressive so our side of the road sat there for about 30 minutes waiting for a chance to cross the bridge!
Although tedious at times, the drive was interesting. We went from Delhi through rural village up to the windy roads of the hills up to Nanital. The most surreal part of the drive was when we were driving on an unpaved road. The white dust from the road filled the air and settled on all of the plants around us. The world looked black and white. White palm trees and tropical plants lined the road. The thing that made this scene so stunning was that the fields which grew something were bright green because they were new vegetation. It looked like a photograph where certain part of the images are in black and white and some in color. Imagine a white world with a vibrant lime green ground. Of course my camera was dead for this and it was too busy for my dad to get a picture in.
We finally got to our hotel on a hill after clumsily navigating the windy one way roads of Nanital. The air was crisp and cool. Nothing like the dusty heat we had spent the day. Our hotel was a converted British summer home. It was cozy and fit the mountain scenery well.
The flight was lovely and security was tight. I carried on luggage for the first time so we could leave the airport even faster. Our flight went smoothly and exited the airport with ease as our driver was waiting for us. We let our driver know we were going to Nanital, a beautiful hill station east of Delhi. Nanital is around 390 kilometers away, which is about 240 miles. Knowing that it takes about 5 hours to get to Santa Barbara which is 350 or so miles away, I figured we could look around Nanital some. This trip made me understand the beauty of the roads of America. It took us 9 hours to make this drive! For a 10 kilometer patch, there was no paved road, just pot holes and bumps. At another point, there was a one way bridge that had means to regulate which direction of traffic would go. The cars coming from the different direction were more aggressive so our side of the road sat there for about 30 minutes waiting for a chance to cross the bridge!
Although tedious at times, the drive was interesting. We went from Delhi through rural village up to the windy roads of the hills up to Nanital. The most surreal part of the drive was when we were driving on an unpaved road. The white dust from the road filled the air and settled on all of the plants around us. The world looked black and white. White palm trees and tropical plants lined the road. The thing that made this scene so stunning was that the fields which grew something were bright green because they were new vegetation. It looked like a photograph where certain part of the images are in black and white and some in color. Imagine a white world with a vibrant lime green ground. Of course my camera was dead for this and it was too busy for my dad to get a picture in.
We finally got to our hotel on a hill after clumsily navigating the windy one way roads of Nanital. The air was crisp and cool. Nothing like the dusty heat we had spent the day. Our hotel was a converted British summer home. It was cozy and fit the mountain scenery well.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Team Dinner: Of Milk and Monkeys
We had a team dinner to wish our teammate (and my roommate) Neelima goodbye as she 
was heading back to the US. Our table got to talking about several strange Indian stories. The first was the story about the Hindu god Ganesh. All Hindu Indians keep Ganesh around there home. Apparently, one day, several people discovered (independently keep in mind) that if they fed their Ganesh milk, he would drink it. The word spread all over India and everyone began feeding their Ganesh milk. Someone at the table had successfully fed her Ganesh milk on that day. So random!
Another event the team recounted was Monkey Man. Apparently, there was a monkey man running around sneaking into people’s rooms at night and attacking them. People would be on the news showing their Monkey Man scars. In the heat of the scare, small hairy people were frequently beaten randomly by the public because they fit Monkey
Man’s description. They never found Monkey Man. He is at large. The idea of a human monkey coming in and scratching me at night is super scary. “Where did this happen?” I asked. Everyone laughed- he apparently was terrorizing Delhi, the place I was set to go in a few days. Now I don’t have to worry about just terrorists, I have to worry about Monkey Man too!
was heading back to the US. Our table got to talking about several strange Indian stories. The first was the story about the Hindu god Ganesh. All Hindu Indians keep Ganesh around there home. Apparently, one day, several people discovered (independently keep in mind) that if they fed their Ganesh milk, he would drink it. The word spread all over India and everyone began feeding their Ganesh milk. Someone at the table had successfully fed her Ganesh milk on that day. So random!Another event the team recounted was Monkey Man. Apparently, there was a monkey man running around sneaking into people’s rooms at night and attacking them. People would be on the news showing their Monkey Man scars. In the heat of the scare, small hairy people were frequently beaten randomly by the public because they fit Monkey
Man’s description. They never found Monkey Man. He is at large. The idea of a human monkey coming in and scratching me at night is super scary. “Where did this happen?” I asked. Everyone laughed- he apparently was terrorizing Delhi, the place I was set to go in a few days. Now I don’t have to worry about just terrorists, I have to worry about Monkey Man too!
Friday, December 5, 2008
Aaruku Valley- Don't Touch Me
We woke up at 5am to head to the train station to head for Aaruku Valley. Despite the name, Aaruku Valley is a hill station (I think). This is what Indians call any town or area on a hill. We got to the train station with no tickets. Certain trains are passenger only and you can't buy tickets ahead of time. There was an INSANE crowd waiting to buy tickets for the train to this random place. Luckily there was a ladies line apart from the men’s line so we could get tickets a little bit more easily. There were setbacks to the ladies lines though. Men would stand beside the ladies line pulling girl’s hair so their wives could push their way ahead to get tickets. Luckily I didn't have to battle for tickets.
More incidence of disrespect for women (or evidence of hairy women) came when I saw a train car designated for women with a man (or hairy lady) looking out with a thick mustache along with his bearded friend. I would say that is a gender designation fail. I wanted to take a picture for Fail Blog but of course my camera died. Once we got tickets, we hopped on the train. Passenger trains have no assigned seats. You basically sit wherever and they fit as many people as possible on the train. We were lucky enough to get seats. Each time the train stopped more and more people got on. Before we knew it the train was packed like the 45 going downtown after the China Town stops.
Getting on the train was dramatic as well. Our door was stuck half the time as people frantically tried to get on before it left the different stations. As the door remained stuck and the car filled up more and more, I tried to not think about how screwed I would be if a fire broke out on the train. At one stop, they finally opened the door as the train was starting to pull away. Mobs of people were running alongside and jumping on. An older woman tried to jump on and missed, falling. Everyone screamed and gasped. She got up and finally made it on, what a trooper.
A woman got on the train had a 12-13 year old daughter. She started asking my friends and me to move so her daughter could sit. I was tired and am not in good enough shape to stand so a thirteen year old who can't sit still can sit in my place. I ignored her, in part because she was not speaking English. Soon the woman started tapping our legs telling us to move. I continued to ignored her. After about 20 minutes of bothering us, she put her water bottle on our knees leaning on it. My temper from my water polo days started to bubble and if I could have, I would have beat the woman for being so disrespectful.
She then made one final attempt for us to move by pushing my leg forcefully to the side and yelling at me in some foreign language. I said in a polite and stern way, just as a mother would say to someone else's kid, "Don't touch me." The woman freak out. She started yelling out to the packed train that I had told her to not touch me. Everyone started laughing. I didn't care. I still believe you should be able to control who touches you. My friend Ritu tried to defend my honor by yelling at the woman but it was no use. The woman tormented us the entire ride. Ritu finally covered her head with her scarf and tried to sleep.The woman must have thought pretty much ANY kind of touching is ok because she finally got her daughter a seat- on the lap of a group of 18-20 year old guys sitting across from me. The guys were tickling the little girl. I was shocked.
Finally the terribly awkward train ride was over and we are at our destination: Borra Caves. The Borra Caves are apparently a set of caves where the drippings of a cave formed some Hindu deity (very Virgin Mary appearing in some odd place).
There were TONS of people to see this miraculous cave. We chose to first go see the waterfall in the area. I took in a deep breath of the fresh air as we saddled up to hike up to the waterfall. I chose to keep my backpack on as we hiked up. I felt like a mountainy northern California person. I definitely earned some legitimacy of owning the signature nor cal Northface fleece. There was a huge set of stairs we had to climb to get to the waterfalls. I expected that once we got to the top we would see the falls. Once we got there, there was a small stream falling off a far off cliff (seen left). What a rip off! Half the group was so discouraged they stayed behind instead of searching for the real falls.
Hiking up the hill to the falls was so fun. I actually saw blue sky and could smell plants! Just as I began to travel into a space of nature bliss looking at small
pools (seen right) and walking uphill, I was reminded I was in India. "You just stepped in shit" said the girl I was walking up with. I looked down and saw I had stepped in something that smelled terrible and was the same color as a banana slug. Considering I was in India, which is lacking public restrooms, this could have been from man or beast. KILL. ME. NOW. I abandoned mission to get to the main falls as I tried to clean off my shoe in a pool. I poured a ton of disinfectant on my shoe and kicked as much off as I could on various rocks. I finally stood up all cleaned off and turned around to see a crowd of young guys watching me go through my horrible ordeal. "Picture Maam?" After the rude treatment on the train and stepping in fecal matter, I was in no mood for a picture. Like a celebrity, I covered my face and dramatically declined as I marched away. What had I become?
I returned to normal (and back down to earth) once we finally got lunch. Lunch was at a restaurant that was more like a front porch made of newspaper. We had plates of
dried leaves carefully stitched together. There was no menu at the place, they just serve Thali, which is basically a mini Indian food buffet. This is just like the place I went with my team where they ate with their hands.
They came around with a bucket of rice and dished it to each person. When the dal came around, I knew that this time I would eat with my hands. I mixed the rice and dal with my hands, ignoring everything my mother has taught me. I loved it. It was nice to feel the warmth of my food. I found it much easier to combine different sauces to eat more tastily concocted bites. I scooped up a potato from one sauce, a loose garlic clove from another, and the right amount of sauce with rice to create a heavenly bite of food. I definitely think this is the best way to eat Indian food. It is not just the experience of eating with your hands that makes it superior. It is your fingers abilities to mix food and combine the perfect amount of different elements that makes it the ideal way to eat complex foods. I am definitely getting everyone to eat Thali when we get home.
After Thali, we tried to get to the caves but the line was WAY too long. We finally decided to go home. We got on a bus that would take us to our final destination. The bus was basically like an old yellow school bus but it was as old as a bus from when I was in first grade (which is almost long enough ago that it is time to lie about my age). We sat in the back by the window that said "break glass in case of emergency". I guess jumping out the back window is the best option. The bus ride was pretty long but it was through the hills and I was able to see pine trees! When we arrived at our final destination, 5 of us piled into a small rickshaw with all of our bags (including my huge backpack) and took off to our hotel.
The interesting thing about our hotels for both nights is that they are state owned hotels. This makes them cheaper to stay and more legitimate that some shady cheap hotel. They had pretty good facilities considering how cheap they were.
The highlight of the evening for me after settling in the hotel was walking to the local markets. While walking, I looked up to see TONS of bats flying through the air. They were silent and looked just like the batman sign. It was so exciting to see the never-ending supply of bats. We then got some street food. I had a samosa. It was yummy but WAY too spicy to finish. I also got some onion pakoras, which were like Indian onion rings. We then played on the playground at our hotel until it was time to go to bed.
Right when we got in our room to go to bed the power went off. We sat around in the dark and waited about 15 minutes. Usually the power goes on by then. We went to the
front desk to wait for the lights to go on just in case a killer had shut the power off and was going room to room. The stars were SO bright outside as we walked to the hotel arm and arm in fear. When we finally got the lobby, a man came down who was waiting for room service when the power went off and starting screaming at the reception people for not getting him his food fast enough. It was pretty funny. Finally, the power went back on the chaos died down and I got to go to sleep. What a LOOOOONG day.
More incidence of disrespect for women (or evidence of hairy women) came when I saw a train car designated for women with a man (or hairy lady) looking out with a thick mustache along with his bearded friend. I would say that is a gender designation fail. I wanted to take a picture for Fail Blog but of course my camera died. Once we got tickets, we hopped on the train. Passenger trains have no assigned seats. You basically sit wherever and they fit as many people as possible on the train. We were lucky enough to get seats. Each time the train stopped more and more people got on. Before we knew it the train was packed like the 45 going downtown after the China Town stops.
Getting on the train was dramatic as well. Our door was stuck half the time as people frantically tried to get on before it left the different stations. As the door remained stuck and the car filled up more and more, I tried to not think about how screwed I would be if a fire broke out on the train. At one stop, they finally opened the door as the train was starting to pull away. Mobs of people were running alongside and jumping on. An older woman tried to jump on and missed, falling. Everyone screamed and gasped. She got up and finally made it on, what a trooper.
A woman got on the train had a 12-13 year old daughter. She started asking my friends and me to move so her daughter could sit. I was tired and am not in good enough shape to stand so a thirteen year old who can't sit still can sit in my place. I ignored her, in part because she was not speaking English. Soon the woman started tapping our legs telling us to move. I continued to ignored her. After about 20 minutes of bothering us, she put her water bottle on our knees leaning on it. My temper from my water polo days started to bubble and if I could have, I would have beat the woman for being so disrespectful.
She then made one final attempt for us to move by pushing my leg forcefully to the side and yelling at me in some foreign language. I said in a polite and stern way, just as a mother would say to someone else's kid, "Don't touch me." The woman freak out. She started yelling out to the packed train that I had told her to not touch me. Everyone started laughing. I didn't care. I still believe you should be able to control who touches you. My friend Ritu tried to defend my honor by yelling at the woman but it was no use. The woman tormented us the entire ride. Ritu finally covered her head with her scarf and tried to sleep.The woman must have thought pretty much ANY kind of touching is ok because she finally got her daughter a seat- on the lap of a group of 18-20 year old guys sitting across from me. The guys were tickling the little girl. I was shocked.
Finally the terribly awkward train ride was over and we are at our destination: Borra Caves. The Borra Caves are apparently a set of caves where the drippings of a cave formed some Hindu deity (very Virgin Mary appearing in some odd place).
There were TONS of people to see this miraculous cave. We chose to first go see the waterfall in the area. I took in a deep breath of the fresh air as we saddled up to hike up to the waterfall. I chose to keep my backpack on as we hiked up. I felt like a mountainy northern California person. I definitely earned some legitimacy of owning the signature nor cal Northface fleece. There was a huge set of stairs we had to climb to get to the waterfalls. I expected that once we got to the top we would see the falls. Once we got there, there was a small stream falling off a far off cliff (seen left). What a rip off! Half the group was so discouraged they stayed behind instead of searching for the real falls. Hiking up the hill to the falls was so fun. I actually saw blue sky and could smell plants! Just as I began to travel into a space of nature bliss looking at small
pools (seen right) and walking uphill, I was reminded I was in India. "You just stepped in shit" said the girl I was walking up with. I looked down and saw I had stepped in something that smelled terrible and was the same color as a banana slug. Considering I was in India, which is lacking public restrooms, this could have been from man or beast. KILL. ME. NOW. I abandoned mission to get to the main falls as I tried to clean off my shoe in a pool. I poured a ton of disinfectant on my shoe and kicked as much off as I could on various rocks. I finally stood up all cleaned off and turned around to see a crowd of young guys watching me go through my horrible ordeal. "Picture Maam?" After the rude treatment on the train and stepping in fecal matter, I was in no mood for a picture. Like a celebrity, I covered my face and dramatically declined as I marched away. What had I become?
I returned to normal (and back down to earth) once we finally got lunch. Lunch was at a restaurant that was more like a front porch made of newspaper. We had plates of
dried leaves carefully stitched together. There was no menu at the place, they just serve Thali, which is basically a mini Indian food buffet. This is just like the place I went with my team where they ate with their hands. They came around with a bucket of rice and dished it to each person. When the dal came around, I knew that this time I would eat with my hands. I mixed the rice and dal with my hands, ignoring everything my mother has taught me. I loved it. It was nice to feel the warmth of my food. I found it much easier to combine different sauces to eat more tastily concocted bites. I scooped up a potato from one sauce, a loose garlic clove from another, and the right amount of sauce with rice to create a heavenly bite of food. I definitely think this is the best way to eat Indian food. It is not just the experience of eating with your hands that makes it superior. It is your fingers abilities to mix food and combine the perfect amount of different elements that makes it the ideal way to eat complex foods. I am definitely getting everyone to eat Thali when we get home.
After Thali, we tried to get to the caves but the line was WAY too long. We finally decided to go home. We got on a bus that would take us to our final destination. The bus was basically like an old yellow school bus but it was as old as a bus from when I was in first grade (which is almost long enough ago that it is time to lie about my age). We sat in the back by the window that said "break glass in case of emergency". I guess jumping out the back window is the best option. The bus ride was pretty long but it was through the hills and I was able to see pine trees! When we arrived at our final destination, 5 of us piled into a small rickshaw with all of our bags (including my huge backpack) and took off to our hotel.
The interesting thing about our hotels for both nights is that they are state owned hotels. This makes them cheaper to stay and more legitimate that some shady cheap hotel. They had pretty good facilities considering how cheap they were.
The highlight of the evening for me after settling in the hotel was walking to the local markets. While walking, I looked up to see TONS of bats flying through the air. They were silent and looked just like the batman sign. It was so exciting to see the never-ending supply of bats. We then got some street food. I had a samosa. It was yummy but WAY too spicy to finish. I also got some onion pakoras, which were like Indian onion rings. We then played on the playground at our hotel until it was time to go to bed.
Right when we got in our room to go to bed the power went off. We sat around in the dark and waited about 15 minutes. Usually the power goes on by then. We went to the
front desk to wait for the lights to go on just in case a killer had shut the power off and was going room to room. The stars were SO bright outside as we walked to the hotel arm and arm in fear. When we finally got the lobby, a man came down who was waiting for room service when the power went off and starting screaming at the reception people for not getting him his food fast enough. It was pretty funny. Finally, the power went back on the chaos died down and I got to go to sleep. What a LOOOOONG day.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Vizag
Once we arrived in Vizag, we took a rickshaw to the hotel. It was a crazy little ride as we swerved in and out of cars. When we got to the hotel, all I wanted to do was wash off my train experience in a hot shower. We were directed to our room, which was just being exited by an elderly couple. "You didn't even clean the room!" protested my coworker/friend/guide Ritu. The hotel staff quickly began cleaning the room. I can't believe they were trying to get us to just move into the room's dirty sheets and used towels!
After thirty minutes of waiting, bathroom was finally cleaned and it was my turn for the shower. I walked in the room to find just a shower head, a bucked, a sink, and a toilet. No shower area. Everything was wet from the previous shower. They just take a shower in the entire bathroom getting the whole room wet. With this damp room came complete with three mosquitoes that tormented me during my shower. As I showered I would fill up the bucket and toss it at the mosquitoes. I got two, one survived. Other than the minor shower battle, I felt refreshed.
We hired a driver for the day to take us around Vizag. It was an old fashion white car that looked like it was from Cuba and had a spunky middle aged driver. We went to lunch at a hotel for some Indian food that was yum (in India you don't say it was great, delicious, or yummy, you just say yum). We then took off to the beach. I put on a swim suite and a dress and brought along a sweater just in case there was a breeze. When we arrived at the beach I realized that I was under dressed. Everyone was in street clothes on the beach- aka saris and even burkas! They were even swimming in their clothing! The young boys were in their underwear and undershirts but for the most part, people were swimming fully clothed. I opted to sit by the beach.
As I was sitting there, a young kid came up to me and asked if he could take a picture with me. I said sure and before I knew it I was surrounded by 20 or so skinny Indian boys taking turns for pictures with me. My friends looked over from
frolicking in the waves and ran to me save me from the overwhelming amount of kids surrounding me. We walked down the beach but they followed. I decided that I should probably not go sleeveless and put my sweater on and sat behind a boat. I spent the rest of the afternoon sipping on fresh coconut juice as I enjoyed the warmth and the waves. As we were leaving I had a line of mothers holding adorable toddlers who wanted me to shake theier baby's hands. SO CUTE! My friends started to call me Auntie (aka old woman) after one of the babies called me Auntie.
We then headed to a place with red sand and a meditation look out point with our crazy driver. We then went to an odd amusement park that had large statues of deities and then rides that give you the opportunity to look over the coast. It was
like an adult Hindu Pixie Land. I had more photo opportunities with large groups who wanted the tall, white, tired, awkward girl in their vacation photos (exhibit A, group me with group of girls to the left). We first went on a monorail (named by Poppy, the slow boring train) that allowed one half of the train to see the coast during the sun set for about a minute and then it turned a corner and all you could see was dark for the remaining 20 minutes. It made it a little more exciting when the lights turned off on the train and flashy colorful lights started flashing along with Indian dance music.
After the slow boring disco train, we took a gondola down the hill. The contraption looked like it was from the 50's as we slid down the hill. I did not feel very safe in it and was very happy to get my feet on the ground. We then hopped in the car to dinner to an even more deathly situation. While we were at the park, our driver got drunk. He drove us to dinner and managed to turn down the wrong way only once. Luckily traffic in India is slow moving and normally as crazy as a drunk driver so the traffic almost expected all of his wacky maneuvers. Regardless, I vowed not to get back in the car with him as we sat down to dinner.
I ordered spaghetti which was pasta and ketchup. I decided to focus on ice cream for dinner (the ice cream so so creamy here- like frozen whipped crea and I can't get enough). We took one last trip to the beach at night (using the public bus) where we were greeted by tons of rats the size of kittens. It was time to go home and go to sleep. My conclusion on Vizag is definitely the Indian version of Santa Barbara with its quirky charm.
After thirty minutes of waiting, bathroom was finally cleaned and it was my turn for the shower. I walked in the room to find just a shower head, a bucked, a sink, and a toilet. No shower area. Everything was wet from the previous shower. They just take a shower in the entire bathroom getting the whole room wet. With this damp room came complete with three mosquitoes that tormented me during my shower. As I showered I would fill up the bucket and toss it at the mosquitoes. I got two, one survived. Other than the minor shower battle, I felt refreshed.
We hired a driver for the day to take us around Vizag. It was an old fashion white car that looked like it was from Cuba and had a spunky middle aged driver. We went to lunch at a hotel for some Indian food that was yum (in India you don't say it was great, delicious, or yummy, you just say yum). We then took off to the beach. I put on a swim suite and a dress and brought along a sweater just in case there was a breeze. When we arrived at the beach I realized that I was under dressed. Everyone was in street clothes on the beach- aka saris and even burkas! They were even swimming in their clothing! The young boys were in their underwear and undershirts but for the most part, people were swimming fully clothed. I opted to sit by the beach.As I was sitting there, a young kid came up to me and asked if he could take a picture with me. I said sure and before I knew it I was surrounded by 20 or so skinny Indian boys taking turns for pictures with me. My friends looked over from
frolicking in the waves and ran to me save me from the overwhelming amount of kids surrounding me. We walked down the beach but they followed. I decided that I should probably not go sleeveless and put my sweater on and sat behind a boat. I spent the rest of the afternoon sipping on fresh coconut juice as I enjoyed the warmth and the waves. As we were leaving I had a line of mothers holding adorable toddlers who wanted me to shake theier baby's hands. SO CUTE! My friends started to call me Auntie (aka old woman) after one of the babies called me Auntie. We then headed to a place with red sand and a meditation look out point with our crazy driver. We then went to an odd amusement park that had large statues of deities and then rides that give you the opportunity to look over the coast. It was
like an adult Hindu Pixie Land. I had more photo opportunities with large groups who wanted the tall, white, tired, awkward girl in their vacation photos (exhibit A, group me with group of girls to the left). We first went on a monorail (named by Poppy, the slow boring train) that allowed one half of the train to see the coast during the sun set for about a minute and then it turned a corner and all you could see was dark for the remaining 20 minutes. It made it a little more exciting when the lights turned off on the train and flashy colorful lights started flashing along with Indian dance music. After the slow boring disco train, we took a gondola down the hill. The contraption looked like it was from the 50's as we slid down the hill. I did not feel very safe in it and was very happy to get my feet on the ground. We then hopped in the car to dinner to an even more deathly situation. While we were at the park, our driver got drunk. He drove us to dinner and managed to turn down the wrong way only once. Luckily traffic in India is slow moving and normally as crazy as a drunk driver so the traffic almost expected all of his wacky maneuvers. Regardless, I vowed not to get back in the car with him as we sat down to dinner.
I ordered spaghetti which was pasta and ketchup. I decided to focus on ice cream for dinner (the ice cream so so creamy here- like frozen whipped crea and I can't get enough). We took one last trip to the beach at night (using the public bus) where we were greeted by tons of rats the size of kittens. It was time to go home and go to sleep. My conclusion on Vizag is definitely the Indian version of Santa Barbara with its quirky charm.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Everything is Happy in Hyderabad
Just wanted to let you know that everything is fine in Hyderabad. Hyderabad is an over 24 hour train ride away from Mumbai so I am definitely far removed from the chaos. It is like being in California during 9/11- a different state and far far away.
I am not afraid that this situation will get out of hand and come affect my little world in Hyderabad. First off, Mumbai has been a hot spot for awhile now. We received an email at work about a month ago from the Warden of Mumbai (how scary- a warden!?!) warning about unrest in Mumbai(hence my train phobia from the previous post). Although the warning was not related this attack, it shows that I was already aware that Mumbai was having security issues. It makes me feel safer that I have a good sense of where I should go and where I should not.
So many Indians have died in bomb blasts throughout India the past few months I have been here but there is no word from other nations condemning these attacks and not much media coverage. I feel like we are only focusing on 1% of the terrorism that still exists in our world. We really need to look at all attacks to solve this problem because they are all related. I will step off my soapbox now.
When the first set of attacks during my stay went off, I asked my coworkers how they dealt with living in a country where there are bombings. One coworker told me that you can't let fear run your life. She told me that what is meant to be will happen. I have taken on this state of mind a little bit more. There is no use living a life if you are afraid the entire time.
Although I am putting my trust and faith that I will come home to once again pay high rent and eat Mexican food, I am also actively making this happen by not taking risks in my travels. I will continue to avoid Mumbai and any other place that wardens advise I not visit. I will not go into busy markets and I will always be sure I am traveling with the appropriate people. I will also continue to plan escape routes through trains haha. My last travel plans are in the northern wilderness and the relaxed (and conflict free) south. I am sure there will be no issues there.
I am more worried about Thailand... I hope that settles before I head there for Christmas.
xoxo
I am not afraid that this situation will get out of hand and come affect my little world in Hyderabad. First off, Mumbai has been a hot spot for awhile now. We received an email at work about a month ago from the Warden of Mumbai (how scary- a warden!?!) warning about unrest in Mumbai(hence my train phobia from the previous post). Although the warning was not related this attack, it shows that I was already aware that Mumbai was having security issues. It makes me feel safer that I have a good sense of where I should go and where I should not.
So many Indians have died in bomb blasts throughout India the past few months I have been here but there is no word from other nations condemning these attacks and not much media coverage. I feel like we are only focusing on 1% of the terrorism that still exists in our world. We really need to look at all attacks to solve this problem because they are all related. I will step off my soapbox now.
When the first set of attacks during my stay went off, I asked my coworkers how they dealt with living in a country where there are bombings. One coworker told me that you can't let fear run your life. She told me that what is meant to be will happen. I have taken on this state of mind a little bit more. There is no use living a life if you are afraid the entire time.
Although I am putting my trust and faith that I will come home to once again pay high rent and eat Mexican food, I am also actively making this happen by not taking risks in my travels. I will continue to avoid Mumbai and any other place that wardens advise I not visit. I will not go into busy markets and I will always be sure I am traveling with the appropriate people. I will also continue to plan escape routes through trains haha. My last travel plans are in the northern wilderness and the relaxed (and conflict free) south. I am sure there will be no issues there.
I am more worried about Thailand... I hope that settles before I head there for Christmas.
xoxo
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
First Overnight Train Ride
I left work on Friday off for my trip to Vizag with my co-worker Ritu and her roommates. All I knew about it before we got there was that it was a beach town, it is pronounced like Vizack, and that it was not in any of my guide books. We took off on a sleeper train that would take 12 hours to arrive. Before I left, people at work did not paint a pretty picture of these sleeper trains. They warned that they are cramped (as evidenced by the picture to the right), there are bugs everywhere, and that they are extremely dirty. I was supposed to bring plenty of disinfectant and a sheet to cover the bug ridden seat. They also warned me to keep my bags close and to sleep away from the hall so nobody saw my light hair. I was a little nervous but excited to get out of town. In addition to the cleanliness fears, I also was worried about general safety on the train. I had just read that day at work of a couple who worked for Google India that been on a similar sleeper train that died when the train caught fire in the middle of the night and they were unable to escape. I was lucky enough to be sleeping right by the emergency window and had practiced opening the bars. I also noticed an emergency chain that I could pull in an emergency that would stop the train. In addition to bringing yourself to safety, you get 5,000 Rupees ($100) for your bravery. Apparently it takes about 5 Indian men (aka a person of my size) to pull this chain so it is kind of a big deal. I set up a plan that I would pull the chain and then wait 20 seconds for the train to stop (I consulted with the group and they agreed that was a reasonable time to safely jump from a train) and then jump feet first out of the train (I thought feet first would be better than head first). I was all set to get a good night sleep.
We sat on the train just chatting. I was very tired and soon found it was time to go to bed. I tried to lay my bag next to me so that I could put my arms around it and basically snuggle with it all night. Lets just say I have had better snuggle experiences. I tossed and turned all night. My head even hurt laying there. I luckily was sleeping by the window so there was a fresh breeze flowing on me. I also put my Purel pump right by my head just in case I touched a wall or something. 
I awoke in the middle of the night to a numb arm and began my switching of positions. I put the bag at the foot of the bed and rested my food on it (second position to the right). It was then that my childhood imagination took hold.
I had received a warning email from the office that bandits in Mumbai (far from where I was) were hijacking trains and robbing people. So I when I woke up in the middle of the night with my numb arm and heard the train slow, I got worried. As it became more and more clear that the train was coming to a complete stop, I felt my "cat hearing ears" perk out from my head. I could hear grass blowing in the background and the usual smalls of burning garbage and filth of a train station were nowhere to be smelled. I knew we had to be in the middle of nowhere. I then heard foot steps outside my window in gravel. I also heard what sounded like the beeping of a walky talky, or maybe a bomb? "It's the badits!" I thought to myself.
I covered up my light hair and grasped my wallet tight. Then I heard a grumbling sound and what sounded like a huge explosion going off far away. The noise quickly got louder. My adrenalin spiked and I was ready to open the window and bolt. Just then I realized that the terrifying noise was just a train passing us. Our train started up again as I laughed at myself. We stopped many times that night. I didn't realize that trains make so many stops on their way to the final destination. I thought they were like airplanes.
I awoke from the sleep nowhere near rested. I ate some potato chips (that is like hash browns, right?) and a blueberry muffin I had inadvertently slept on the night before that was in my pocket. Although an interesting sleep, I felt so dirty and tired after. I was not in a great mood headed to Vizag. We still had several hours to Vizag. I got excited as I looked out the window. Overnight I had been transported from Hyderabad and its dust to a more tropical landscape. There were palm trees with coconuts busting from the center and what looked like rice fields (something green and lush anyway). I was feeling a little bit better as our train stopped at the Vizag station.
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