India - In a Nutshell - Pt.8 (Bikaner)

Ever since I watched the episode of Wildboyz where Chris Pontius and Steve-O went to Deshnok to the Karni Mata Temple, I've wanted to go there and see it for myself - something that outside the norm is just one of those things in life you really need to experience first hand. And that place, the Karni Mata Temple scarred me for life! Not for any bad reasons to be sure, but simply because it was so strange. Of Bikaner I really have nothing much to say, aside from the fact that it is big, much bigger than Jaisalmer. It was literally a stop-over to get me to Deshnok and then out to Jodhpur. In a way, I feel like I missed something there, because the town was interesting from what I did see of it.

Bikaner, Rajasthan : February 3, 2011

FML indeed - because of the return of my recurrent friend, I didn't sleep very well on the train between Jaisalmer and Bikaner, for fear, to be honest, that I would shit my pants. LoL! And what made that stick in my mind was the story before falling asleep from Max and Ian, about how Max, being really ill himself, had done just that, on a train no less, the night before. We arrived in Bikaner at 04:00 and jumped into the rickshaw from hell with Prakesh, the host of the quest house we were going to be staying at. That rickshaw - man, I thought it was honestly going to die en route - tabarnak! It sounded like something that should have been retired in the 70's and it went so slow, I think a snail would have beat it in a serious race. Grunting and growling, we slowly made our way clear across town to the guest house, located in a labyrinthine maze of back alleys about ten minutes past the Bikaner Fort. And since it was 04:00, and India has this disposition for not being overly well lit at night, it was hard to get a sense of direction or of landmarks as well passed them - and this would play a very big part in an adventure later in the day.

Since I had only booked ahead for my room, there wasn't a spare one for the girls. However, they took the room I was going to have and I ended taking the room of the guy who drove the rickshaw. Same price, but not even in the same house; it in the adjoining home. It was a spartan room to be sure, but really, we would only be sleeping from 04:30 until whenever it was we woke up to get on the road to Deshnok. Bidding the girls goodnight, I headed to my room to get settled for my nap - but my intestines had other ideas. Squat toilets are not fun - oh no. Not at all! Still, I get the whole hygienic angle and the water preservation. But I tell you, if you weren't raised with them, they're a tricky proposition to use when you're in a bad way. And in India, you don't put paper waste down the toilets, so you've got to either go native and hand wash your backside or find a way to dispose of your paper products. When there is a bucket provided, it's all good, but as was the case here, there was no bin and I had to go native. NEVER AGAIN!

Suffice it to say, without going into exact details here, that I didn't sleep well. And when I woke up at 9:30am, I did so to find an unexpected surprise - a rather dirty one. No shame in saying it... my fear came true! Thankfully, not on the train. Bad part was not having a second pair of pants - good thing was that we were in the desert, so it was hot and I could wear capri pants! Ouch... no-one knew about that (except the Ellies) until now, that is. LoL! It's funny you know - at home, this would be something you would never admit to - on the road with other people, it's just another funny thing that happens and there is nothing taboo about talking about it - worse things happen all the time. I could tell you the hilarious story about the girls while they were on safari - but it's not mine to tell. I was in stitches when I heard it - man, those are two crazy and wickedly awesome girls (nicest girls ever, if you listen to them say it ;)).

That's the funny thing, you know? When you're on the road, everything happens so fast, that there really isn't time to be judgemental about situations or people. You take it for what it is and that's that. Maybe it has something to do with the whole never seeing each other again or maybe it's something else entirely. I have no more clue now than I did before. It is what it is. Everything is just easier on the road; making friends, shitting your pants, telling your new friends about shitting your pants, whatever... LoL!

After cleaning up, both myself and the room, I woke the girls up, we ate breakfast and headed out with our host, Prakesh, who was going to lead us to the bus stand, so we could get to Deshnok and the Karni Mata Temple. Oh, before we left, Prakesh made me eat this handful of goodness (not), made from crushed cumin seeds, rock salt and yellow peppercorns. He ground it all up and made me eat it with a little water to wash it down. It's an ayurvedic remedy for diarrhea - tasted like crap, but I'll tell you, it worked! On the way, we stopped at a public school and were invited in to say hello to the students. And I tell you something in all truth - this is likely one of the most memorable highlights of my trip, because not only did we say hello to the kids, but we ended up giving them mini lessons, in english, geography, math and the girls even sang some songs for them. The school itself was one of the better ones I'd visited on my trip, although it was very different from what you and I are used to. Still, they had what they needed - and they didn't ask us for money to help buy books or pens or whatever, like some schools did. Yep, really was in the top 5 things I did on my trip. I really enjoyed reading a story to the kids and seeing the Ellies performing their magic! Those two are born education providers, I'm telling you.

After leaving the school, we made our way towards the bus stand, through a maze of never-ending twists and turns. Prakesh got us to the last stretch that ran to the highway and then left us there to find our own way. I'm sure he had other things to do, like organizing our bus tickets, me for Jodhpur and the girls for Pushkar. It took a while, what with the girl's shopping and me not being able to communicate well enough with the ticket guy to get our ride sorted to heqad to Deshnok. In the end, and 30 rupees later, we got on the bus and headed out of Bikaner for Deshnok, 30 kilometers out of town. And the whole way there, there was this Indian guy who was just obsessed with the girls - he could not stop staring at them. I don't even think the guy blinked for the entire ride! The burdens of being beautiful, right girls? :)

Deshnok is rather interesting. It's literally a collections of small buildings clustered around the temple. Or at least, that's the most I could see of it. The temple itself was like a small fortress, completely covered in chicken wire to keep the rats and pigeons inside of it. Now just imagine, rat and pigeons, locked inside, thousands of them combined, and you cannot wear shoes, nor flipflops. Yep, barefoot on marble floors that was more shit in places than marble. And to top it all off, we were now five instead of three! Yeah, we ran into Max and Ian here! See what I mean? Same people, different places! And that was cool as hell, as they were really neat guys - they certainly made the ride back to Bikaner very musical! But I'm a little ahead of myself...

Can you believe I actually got bit by a fucking rat while taking a photo of the cluster around the milk bowl? Yep, right on the toe. But at least I didn't get shat on like Ellie Mair did! LoL! Kidding Elles... it was ghastly! Foul little beast! How dare it? But yeah, it was funny - or least our taking pictures of it made it seem. She was none too fucking thrilled at the time though. Speaking of shit, you know what the worst was? Nope, not walking barefoot in rat and pigeon shit, although that was fairly rotten, especially in the inner sanctums. No, the smell of the cow shit pucks was pungent in here - I don't think they dried enough, because when they're dry, they don't smell THAT bad. And there were people eating on the floors, with rats on their plates and other people were sleeping on the floor with rats climbing all over them. And, wow, there were dead rats everywhere. The place was a disease waiting to happen.

And I loved every fucking minute of it. Pardon my french. Yes I know it's not french - I speak it remember?  Et j'ai adoré chaque minute en tabarnak! Happy now?

But for all of the gnarly stuff, we all had fun there, at least I know I did! It was everything I was expecting and more. But man, was it ever messed up. I'm ruined forever now... and the double boob squeeze Ellie Sedgwick got from that 12 year old kid did nothing to sour her day! ;) That cheeky little bugger! (you knew I was going to remind you, didn't you?) That certainly made the short walk back to the bus stand laughable!

Eventually, we got to the right spot to take the bus back to Bikaner, and a few minutes later, with a local in tow acting as a guide, we were backward bound, to the musical renditions of Ian and Ellie Sedgwick. I don't think the Indians on the bus liked it much, but the white devils at the back of the bus didn't care. You'd need to experience a train at night-time to understand how much the cell phones playing 25 different songs at the same time makes out teeth itch sometimes. I'd like to think that their singing was something in the way of payback or pay-forward. Whatever - it was fun, even though my stomach was starting to churl again! FML, would Muna's curse ever go away?

Back in town, we got off the bus to go to Baskin Robbins, but decided against it in favour of something a little more substantial. For me, that meant a lassi - I needed some yogurt to balance out the old intestines. For everyone else, it meant a virtual buffet of all that is good to sample - aside from the chai, which was kind of horrendous. The pizza was amazing (yeah, I sampled it against my own better judgment).

Leaving there, the five of us went in search of the market district, where we eventually lost Max to an internet cafe (chatting with his girlfriend). Me, I bought a pair of fake Levis (Yes, Ellie M, you were right!) - that said they were 32,32 - just my size, only for 100 rupees! From there, Ian, the Ellies and myself went in search of the spice markets, which were kind of neat, aside from the squished baby dog I tried to hide from the girls (damn you girls, why didn't you just listen to me and not look?). We even lost Ian in there, as his hotel was RIGHT there and it was getting on in darkness.

Heading back to our guest house proved a chore - the rickshaw driver didn't know where the hell to go - we had to eventually stop and ask directions and luckily for us, someone came with us to make sure the driver got us to where we needed to go. What should have been a 10 minute ride max, ended up being closer to 20 - 25. Once safely back, our hosts had prepared dinner for us; something deliciously Indian for the girls, and fruit for me (lol). Prakesh was such a nice and thoughtful man.

We met an Italian man there at the guest house, who had been bicycling around Rajasthan. In his 60s, Guiseppe had spent the last 4 days riding from Jaisalmer to Bikaner. That's moxy! Not because he's in his 60's, but because he ventured an Indian highway on a bicycle for four days! Damn... and such a nice man too! He gave us all some postcards of Bikaner, as we didn't have time to get any for ourselves. I wonder how his trip went... Ellie Mair? Did you ever email him for news? I'd like to hear any news if you got it...

Prakesh also go us our bus tickets while we were in Deshnok. Me, I was bound for Jodhpur and the girls for Pushkar. And our departure time was VERY close to the time we arrived to the guest house. We had about 30 minutes or more to eat and get packed. And then it was back into the death-trap rickshaw.

Yep, Muna's curse came back in full force, while we were waiting for the buses no less - I had to run inside the train station at that point (enough said). When I got out, my bag was loaded (thanks again Ellie S!) and I was soon to be out of there; in my nice 32, 32 fake levis, that were actually an Asian 32. For us, it was more like a 28,28 - yeah, they were too short and I ripped the holy hell out of the crotch when I put them on - but I needed them, as the buses are kinda chilly still. Blankets cover those sorts of things nicely though!

A hasty goodbye said, and a promise to try to reconnect in Goa later, and I was on the road again... minus the nicest girls in the world. It was my pleasure to travel with you both - I am glad you diverted your plans to come to Bikaner. You made the journey there an absolute blast! Anyone who travels with those to is just about the luckiest person, like, ever!

Although Ellie Sedgwick, I am still somewhat disappointed with the whole fake nose ring thing... ;)

And yes, there was a lesson here folks: I learned how to say goodbye - something I wasn't very good at in life before this trip. Ask anyone, they'll tell you - I DO NOT DO GOODBYES. Except now, I do.

India - In a Nutshell - Pt.7 (Jaisalmer)

The desert town of Jaisalmer, the Golden City, sixth stop on my travels, was one of the most memorable places that I visited in India. It was here that I made my deepest connections with locals, some of whom I still call friends to this day. It was the place where I was the most honest with myself. The place where I finally came to a measure of acceptance for what is. And the place that I felt most like I was going to die. In a way, I guess that I kind of did - or at the least, the process began in earnest there.
 
Jaisalmer, Rajasthan : January 29, 2011 - February 2, 2011

Jaisalmer is a true desert town, in every way imaginable. Long gone were the white-washed and pastel blue buildings of Pushkar. In Jaisalmer, most of the buildings were of the soft golden sandy hues and texture of the desert itself. made manifest in every form possible, from shanty homes to imposing fort walls and everything in between. Stunted growth dots the landscape, vying for what precious ground water can be found. And from up above, the streets of the city became a sea of turbans, of all colours, most noticeably a bright pink that would grab your eyes and never let them go. Jaisalmer is a camel oriented town, where there are more vendors selling safaris than there are tourists to buy them. It is a place where the mythic past rubs shoulders with the modern world - buildings many hundreds of years old abutting newly constructed ones in a sort of architectural menagerie. The beauty of Jaisalmer was evident everywhere, for those not too blinded to see it.

We arrived in Jaisalmer at 08:30, way ahead of the fourteen hour duration the operator in Pushkar said the trip would take. Somewhere along the way, we'd cut almost five hours from the transit time. Perhaps he was only giving us an average length and not an actual one. It really doesn't matter though - we arrived safe and sound, if not a little tired and cold; we being myself, Neslie and Hasan, the married couple from Turkey that had taken the bus with me from Pushkar. They were in Pushkar and Jaisalmer to do business, as Hasan was in the import business. Since I'd arranged for a hotel from Pushkar and they hadn't, they accompanied me in the free taxi ride up into the fort where my hotel was located. They ended up staying in the sister hotel to mine on the opposite side of the fort, as mine didn't have any double rooms within a price range they were comfortable with. My room was a mere 125 rupees per night - for a bed, a door and a terrace overlooking the city. And oh what a terrace it was too! It even had a marble bench on it that was big enough to sleep on comfortably, which I did on my last night in Jaisalmer (more on that later). The only downfall to the room was that it didn't have a private bathroom, but that's not really a big deal - unless of course, you are rapidly dying from the inside...

Neslie, Hasan and I spent three mornings together, meeting for breakfast at a German Bakery (they exist everywhere in India) just outside the Hawa Pol (Gate of the Winds). On the first day, we all ate croissants, sipped especially bad coffee and then went in search of camel safari pricing for them. The one they'd finally settled on was with an outfitter located outside the fort itself, costing them over 1000 rupees each for a two hour camel ride and a sunset in the desert. Personally, I think they got ripped off, but who am I to judge, really, what is worthwhile to another person? Me, I had a private combination jeep and camel safari the following day that was 10 hours in total and included the 2 hour camel ride, the sunset, and also dinner in the desert (more on that), and visits to the following: Bada Bagh (royal cenotaphs), an abandoned Punjabi settlement (850 years empty), a 900+ year old Jain Temple and a gypsy village. And my safari cost 2000 rupees, the same as their combined cost. I feel safe in saying, that yes, to my mind, they were ripped off. I advised them to talk to Muna, the guy at my hotel who arranged trips, but they were settled on only doing the camel ride and not all the other stuff. So... while waiting for them to settle their costs, I met another girl from Toronto who was to go on a 3 day safari. We chatted for a bit while her jeeps were being loaded with supplies. When Hasan came out of the safari outfitter, he told me they'd be leaving in about 15 minutes for their ride. I bid them good day and walked off down the road towards Gadi Sagar, one of the sites in Jaisalmer I was really looking forward to seeing.

Gadi Sagar, which I would visit more than once while in Jaisalmer, is the city's main source of water. It is a lake, dotted here and there with small temples, accessible only by boat. There were the usual ghats and a few places where people actually lived. On the opposite side of the lake, the plains stretched out as far as the eye could see, or as far as you could penetrate through any sandstorms that may be blowing past. Those plains though, reminded me a little of the savannahs in southern Africa. I kept expecting to see lions and elephants and zebras. All I did see were water buffalo, gazelles and lots of pigeons. The entrance to Gadi Sagar was a massive archway that was built by a courtesan for the Raj in antiquity, as a means to impress him and catch his 'attention' - I have no idea if it worked. However, the archway has stood ever since and is a beautiful piece of architecture, especially in the early morning hours when the sun would crest the horizon and it's orange and red radiance would alter the coloration of the building, much like at the Taj Mahal. It was a peaceful place - a place were you could sit at ease and just enjoy the natural and constructed beauty around you. There were never many people here and the sounds of the city never penetrated the silence, so you could reasonably unwind in the shade of the numerous trees lining the lake.

It was on the way to Gadi Sagar, that first morning that I came across the textile vendor with the very humourous signs declaring that you didn't need viagra if you bought this magic blanket or that this dress would make your mother-in-law prettier. He had a sign for everything and they truly were quite funny to read!

On my second day, I went for my safari with Muna. We had become fast friends, Muna and I - we often referred to each other as Bai, which is the Hindi word for brother. Muna was the hotel's safari organizer and also the guide. The only time on the safari that he was not with me was when I was on the camel ride. We were accompanied that day by Rabhu, my jeep driver. For my safari, I bought some mutton (sheep), as I wanted meat - I was sorely craving protein by this point in my trip. That was a huge mistake though and I paid for it dearly over the span of the next 4 days. The jeep safari to see the sights mentioned above was really something. Walking the streets of Khaba, the abandoned village, was haunting to say the least - I could feel the eyes of the long departed on the back of my neck with every step I took between the skeletal remains of the houses. And this was in broad daylight at around 13:00 - imagine how bad that would have been at sunset. I can imagine it, because I went back there one night. The Jain Temple was kind of stressful to walk around in - there was a cobra living on the grounds and it was wild. So, you really had to watch every where that you stepped. The intricate carvings on the temples themselves was quite exceptional! Visiting the gypsy village was a quick in and out - Muna's family came from the village and we literally only stopped for a few minutes so he could deliver some supplies. Still, in that short time, I got to see how the desert nomads live and got a tour of Muna's mother's home, a round building made from dirt and dried manure with a thatched roof.

The highlight of the day was the camel ride through the scrub lands of the Thar Desert, and the rapidly approaching sand dunes. Here and there, there were trails left in the sand bu various species of animal, be it snake, bird or insect. There were many goats and cattle out here too, grazing on the scrub - animals that the nomads owned. What was quite funny to me was that my guide, Bengali,had a cell phone that actually worked out here, in the middle of nowhere. Rocket, the camel I was riding, was very gentle, but stank incredibly when he regurgitated his stomach contents, like a cow will. His mouth was stained the colour of green bile and he burped more often than I would have liked, since the smell came backwards over his head into my unprepared nose.

We set up camp at the bottom of the dunes, as opposed to the top as is usual, because I'd decided that I wanted to capture a time lapse shot of the sunset from there. Everyone shoots their sunsets from the top of the dunes, but me, I wanted to have a different perspective on it. And what a shot it was too! It was down here that Muna, Rabhu and Bengali prepared my desert meal. It consisted of white rice, the mutton in a red curry gravy (we call it sauce) and freshly made chapatis. The smell of it, while cooking was so tantalizing that I could actually taste each of the added ingredients. I watched the whole process from start to finish, talking with the guys and sharing desert chai, called so as it has ingredients not found in normal masala chai.

I also came across dung beetles while out there waiting for dinner. I even got stung by one - thankfully not hard and not deep. It didn't penetrate the skin. Still, it was freaky that they had stingers. When touched, they lower their heads into the sand, thus forcing their thorax into the air, with stinger exposed. Too bad it was the wrong time of year to see them rolling balls of shit. No matter - at least I got to see them, which is what I'd been hoping for.

Dinner was incredible - the aromas didn't lie! It wasn't until around midnight back at the hotel in Jaisalmer that I started to rot away on the inside. I won't go into details, but I will say that I passed a very miserable night, devoid of deep sleep. Every noise from my abdomen was an alarm clock to run for the communal bathroom. And we'll leave that there. This illness came and went, one day present, one day not, for four days. It wasn't until I got to Jodhpur that the last of it passed, and only because I took some Ayurvedic medicine (herbal, holistic medication). Muna felt so bad about making me ill that he comped everything at the hotel for me for my five day stay, aside from the cost of my room. He even invited me to go back out to the desert with another group, free of charge. That's how well we got along. You know, he even invited me to come back to Jaisalmer in two years for his wedding - and I just might if opportunity and money allow.

Over the course of the next day, I slept a lot on the rooftop patio on the maharaja cushions. Muna got me anything I needed free of charge; bananas, water, whatever. At around 12:00, I decided to head out into the city and experience the market streets in Gandhi Chowk. It was an absolute maze, more so than Pushkar could ever claim. I eventually made my way to the slums on the outskirts of town and walked through them, trying to reach a high point known as Sunset Hill. I stopped a few times to talk with people in those slums, giving bananas to the kids and taking no advantage of photo opportunities - like I said, I have an issue with photographing other people's lives, especially when they are in such poverty. I'll eventually get to the entry where I will quote my actual journal, describing my feelings on that matter (I think it was in Mumbai).

I spent many hours up on Sunset Hill, just relaxing in the 35 degree sun, under a shrine of some sort. At the time though, I didn't know it was a shrine and I actually climbed up on it, to sit on the wall. The vantage point of the town from up here was incredible! And it was singularly tranquil. I went through two litres of water up there though; severe dehydration caused by heat and illness. At some point, I was unable to bear the heat and the sounds issuing from my stomach, so I went back to the fort to sleep a bit, before making my way back up to the hill to watch the sunset over the desert. It doesn't matter where you watch them from; the sunsets in Jaisalmer were just spectacular. There wasn't a single night in Jaisalmer that I didn't watch one from somewhere or other. This night though, there were lots of tourists here to watch it; I passed the time with a couple from Germany and four girls from South Korea. We got some amazing photos and were serenaded by a man playing a Rajasthani violin, called a ravanatha. The sound of this instrument is amazing - like a chorus of violins with an undertone of traditional bells interwoven into it. Haunting and moving at the same time. You know, I almost bought one while there in Jaisalmer, but didn't see how I could transport it around the country with me for two months without destroying it. I'm seriously considering ordering one though, because I really love the sound and it doesn't look that hard to learn (I have a few years of violin training up my sleeve - didn't know that, did you?), since it only has two strings.

Now we get to the part of my stay in Jaisalmer where I drank my first real Bhang Lassi. Remember that I said in Pushkar everyone was smoking pot except for me, as I liked to drink it? This is that reference. A bhang lassi is a yogurt based drink (yogurt, sugar, milk and masala spice) mixed with bhang, a derivative of cannabis, kind of like really dehydrated hashish. It delivers the same effect as smoking it, but more of a whole body thing. Me, I had a super strong (24 hour, full power, no sleep, no shower - as they say) and bought two bhang cookies to go with it. I drank the lassi in the shop, as is the rule (this stuff is government approved), and then went back to my room to await the effects to kick in. It didn't take long! I passed the night on my terrace, on the bench under a blanket, staring at the stars as they moved across the night sky. And you know? I was getting angry at those star BECAUSE they were moving - I was playing a rather fun game in my mind of connect the dots with them at the time! LoL! I also saw bats chasing moths, illuminated by the floodlights that light up the fort at night. And they were seriously moving in extreme slow motion, or at least that is how my bhang addled mind processed their flight. Eventually, I passed out on the terrace and slept there until 07:00 when the sounds of the awakening city forced me to relocate into my room and the comfort of the ensuing silence. There wasn't any hangover effects, to be honest, but I was a little sluggish for the first hour after getting up - I went to the rooftop and lay in the sun for a few hours before collecting my gear and checking out of the hotel at 10:30. Since my train to Bikaner wasn't until that night, I needed to pass many hours in Jaisalmer with my bags. I eventually decided to leave them in Muna's care and relaxed again on the maharaja cushion to read The Alchemist a bit more.

That was when I met the two Ellies - both from Sydney, Australia, and best friends - more like sisters from different parents I would say! We struck up the usual traveler conversation, which in the end resulted in them agreeing to go to Bikaner with me to see the Karni Mata Temple. I bought them their tickets online for the train with my credit card, as theirs didn't work, and that was that! I had friends for the next leg of the trip! We went to Gadi Sagar together, where the girls, to their delight, could rent a swan paddle boat for a 30 minute tour of the lake and it's temples. So full of zest, those two. :) Being with them was an experience I will never forget - those two were just so much fun, especially when it came to shopping. Their combined skills at bartering were unparalleled. Even at the height of my shopping days, I was no match for them, much that  wished I could have been. At one point, because of the amount of shopping they did, I renamed them ATMs, because of the sheer amount of money they were handing out to the vendors of Gandhi Chowk for their purchases.

We stopped at one point at Dylan Cafe, in Gandhi Chowk, to do some internet stuff, which is where we met Rajiv and Cool Desertguy, who worked at the cafe. Those two guys were very cool. As I would find out when I got home, my exgirlfriend had met Cool Desertguy in Jaisalmer, three years prior too. What a small world we live in. The guys liked very good music full of deep, resonating bass and driven beats. I wish I knew the style of music (I should just ask them, lol). They organized parties out in the desert - there was actually one scheduled for that night, 87 km outside of Jaisalmer, but since we had tickets for Bikaner, we didn't go. Part of me wishes we did... at one point in the night, Cool DG referred to Ellie Mair as mixed-veg, implying she was half asian - funniest way I've ever heard that mentioned. Which of course she isn't, btw...

We went for a motorcycle ride out to Khaba with them, to watch a sunset in the haunted, abandoned village. That was quite the ride, let me tell you! Five people, two motorcycles - I burned my leg quite often on the exhaust pipe of the bike I was on (3rd seat) and felt like I was going to fall off, backwards, with every bump we hit. Still, it was an adventure to be sure - I'm smiling right now, just thinking about it! Out at the "cow shit house", as Cool Desertguy called it, we took photos, listened to music and watched the sunset. Yeah, sunsets are something you totally have to do every night in Jaisalmer! The ride back to town was interesting too - it was dark, there were insects flying into your face and the air was getting quite cool.

We ended up having dinner with them when we got back to town; well, I didn't, as my stomach was still not settled in any way, shape or form. Cool Desertguy got a call while everyone was eating about the desert party and had to go, so we left too. We headed back to the girl's hotel to get our bags, chatted with the really nice people who worked there and then went to the train station via rickshaw, once we could find one - and just our luck, we had the Jaisalmer nut job in ours - he's more famous than Bill Gates, he'll tell you this himself, saying also, "When you see me in Jodhpur, buy me a beer!". Whatever -  I never did see him in Jodhpur though...

On the train headed for Bikaner, we met Max and Ian, two guys from Melbourne, heading to Bikaner as well, and as we'd find out later in the day, to Deshnok and the Karni Mata temple too.

Jaisalmer was an amazing place, illness aside - that was my own fault. I am definitely going to return there, if for nothing else than to see my new Indian friends who live there. And maybe I'll be there for Holi next time so I can party with CDG and Rajiv in the desert! I learned a very valuable skill while here - how to approach people I don't now and strike up conversations. Normally I don't have a problem with that, but you know, it's not something I do all the time. Here in Jaisalmer though, I was doing it every day, all day long, with whoever wanted to chat. I learned to come out of my bubble a little bit more than usual. And I had these two amazing girls from Australia traveling with me who excelled at it! I wish I could have traveled more with them to be honest - they were just so much fun! We had thought we could cross paths in Goa, but alas, I got there too early and left before they got there. Life is just like that sometimes - still, too bad.

I was thankful for meeting them though and for staying touch with them; well with Ellie Sedgwick anyways. Don't know what happened to Mair though - maybe that contact slipped through the cracks? Try again, I guess.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, yes... the illness came back that night and said hello, while on the train. So even though I had a sleeper bunk, in actuality, I had a "seat" - FML.

India - In a Nutshell - Pt.6 (Pushkar)

Legend has it that Lake Pushkar was consecrated to Lord Brahma, the creator of the universe when a lotus dropped from his hand into the valley and a lake emerged in it's place. Now, the village of Pushkar, 14km outside of Ajmer, one of five dhams (pilgrim sites for devout hindus), is a popular destination for those seeking solace, some great shopping opportunities or perhaps a connection to their diety. Pushkar was my fifth stop of the trip, and if I had my way, it may have been the last - that's how much I loved it there. Rishikesh it wasn't, but what it was, was incredible beyond mere words... As a warning to those inclined to light reads, this one is likely going to be longer than average, so you may want to reposition yourselves and get comfortable. I'd recommend a nice chai tea to go with that! But then, I would, wouldn't I? 

Pushkar, Rajasthan : January 25, 2011 - January 28, 2011

Perhaps taking two diazepam tablets the night before wasn't such a good idea, or perhaps it was simply a matter of still being shocked by what I'd experienced the day prior. Whatever it was, I was feeling quite unbalanced as I made my way on foot to the train station in Jaipur, as quickly as I could, I might add. I really wanted to be clear and away, out of that town completely. Seriously, it impacted me so much, the events of the day before, that the thought of being in that place was debilitating. We all experience it to some degree in life, whether it's the scene of a bad memory or even of a good one - there's that shortness of breath, that increase in heart rate, that tightening in our stomachs. You know the feeling I am referring to, I am sure. I needed to be gone and to stay gone. And I was quite ecstatic when the Ajmer Express pulled in at 10:00am to whisk me away; far, far away.

The train ride was great to be honest - I had a lower side berth in a sleeper car all to myself and since it faced the newly risen sun, I had the ideal place to sit, chill out and lose myself in the pages of The Alchemist. The ride itself was one and a half hours in duration, but it felt only as though twenty minutes or so had passed between boarding and exiting the train. The only time I was distracted from my book or from losing myself completely in the passing scenery through the window was when a holy man of some sort came into the car with a tambourine and decided to sit at the edge of my berth, beating the holy hell out of his weapon (instrument) of choice and singing in the worst possible voice I think I've ever heard in my life. Nails on a chalkboard are a godsend compared to what was issuing from this man's vocal cords; it felt like my ears were bearing swabbed with glass shards. Alright, I'm exaggerating, but not by very much. It was funny when he finished and thought I would pay money for that singularly horrendous performance. Nay, nay...

I even cried quite a bit on that train ride while looking out the window, consumed by my thoughts. Flashes of sights best unseen ran though my mind for sure, but I was really cut off from the world that I know and I felt so alone. Like I said, it was likely the pills or the day's events, but my mental barriers were completely down. But you know, this happens to the single traveler at some point in their travels - they feel the cut. There's nothing to connect them to the world they've left behind, and that severance really hits them. Luckily for me, it was brief - for some it is so consuming that they literally cut their trips short and go back home. Me, I couldn't even consider that as a possibility - there were things, too many to count, that I wanted to see and needed to do. But it wasn't easy, working through that grief, made doubly an imposing task by Jaipur. The one thing that I needed most in the world was a few kind words from someone back home, someone who understood that severance, the totality of the cut from the norm. I did eventually get that, but I divulged nothing of the underling reasons that were compounding everything. Like I said, no-one, not even my family or those closest to me knew about Jaipur until I wrote about it yesterday. I apologize for that - I know now that maybe you could have helped - but I didn't want to burden you. And that's just the way it is - we travelers are separated by so many miles and we know you worry enough as it is for our safety and sanity. We just can't add to it, even if it is something that is eating us alive inside like a ravenous cancer.

Enough of that - not hard to tell that I'm still impacted to this day, is it? PTSD? As a general rule, I detest self diagnosis, but if the shoe fits...

Arriving in Ajmer, I made my way on foot up the main highway, about 1 km total distance, to the bus stand, since there is no way into Pushkar save for bus. Apparently the government is looking at adding a high gauge train line from Ajmer to Pushkar, but it wasn't started when I was there. But it wasn't so much a big deal to be honest - the bus was 10 rupees and only took 20 minutes or so to make the trip. The road was treacherous though! It wound up and down mountains and careened very closely to the edges, where the ravines dropped straight down to doom. I saw a Mahindra goods carrier truck overturned at the bottom of one of these ravines on my way up one particularly twisted section of highway, and it was a relatively fresh accident - within hours. Other than that though, the ride was great! The pavement was smooth enough, but the twists and turns were unreal!

Arriving in Pushkar at the bus stand, I made my way down the road to the Hill View Hotel, which ran me a meager 200 rupees a night for a deluxe room. I chose this hotel because it was on the outskirts of the village and it only takes 5 minutes to walk from there to the Sadar Bazaar, the main market road running parallel to the ghats. I didn't really want to be right in the town itself, because I needed seclusion, peace and quiet. And this place had internet on-site and a rooftop restaurant. My room had a window facing the mountain behind and there was literally nothing between the window and that mountain save for a few scrub trees, cacti, and the odd wild peacock. Oh yes, peacocks! They would start "singing" at around 07:00, which I ended up using as my alarm clock every day. At night, usually as the sun was setting, they would fly up onto the roof of my hotel and cry, quite loudly I should add, to mark the end of the day, which oddly enough was at around 19:00. At least they were symmetrical...

I spent a lot of time in those scrub trees on the side of the mountain. It was very isolated in places, there were no people to intrude on the solitude I was seeking and there were many opportunities to lose myself in fantastic views of scrub-land deserts, mountains and of course, Pushkar itself. I had a favourite spot on the top of a foothill, just under the Savitri Devi Temple, located on the top of the mountain directly behind my hotel. I would sit there in the sun reading, listening to music, or snapping photos of wildlife, the landscape, even the of the plants around me. I didn't sit there like a monk in meditation, to be fair. I just used this spot as an escape when I felt like I needed it over the course of my stay in Pushkar.

I also explored the village itself, from top to bottom, left to right. It didn't take long, as it is so small. It only takes 10 - 15 minutes to cover the length of Pushkar, when the Sadar Bazaar is full of people. I sampled food from most of the more popular vendors on the street. I refused to eat at the restaurants here, as it was the only place that white travelers were eating at. Seriously, the best eats I had on my trips were here. Cheap, fresh and healthy. That's not to say that I didn't sample one or two of the more crowded food shops, such as Pawan, which made amazing wraps. In Quebec, I'd call them Shish Taouk, in Toronto, I'd call them Shwarmas, although in Pushkar, they were veg only; veg and paneer (homemade Indian cheese). And I'll tell you, their reputation is well deserved! I availed myself of thier sandwiches quite often. I think my favourite was the #6, tomato, onions, fried mushrooms, cheese and garlic sauce. Seriously, it tasted just like a shish taouk, minus the chicken. It reminded me of home, and that helped me to feel better, you know? That's likely why I ate there so often.

On my first day in Pushkar, I got waylaid by a Brahman who was trying very hard to coerce me into going through a religious ceremony. It's every visitors lot in life to get suckered into it. I could have said no, I could have walked away. A tiny voice in the back of my mind was screaming for all it was worth though, telling me that I needed to do it. So, I let him walk me down the ghats to the water, where we went through a highly ritualized prayer and offering to the pantheon of Hindu Gods and Goddesses. It was meant to remove bad karma from me, and to grant good karma, good health and fortune upon my family and my loved one. And it was done entirely in hindi - he would recite and I had to repeat every word. I'll be honest, there was power in those words. He explained each phrase I was repeating, so that I could understand exactly what was being asked of the various deities. At the end of it all, I cast my bad karma and my well wishes over my shoulder with a handful of flowers into the water of Lake Pushkar. And that is how you earn a Pushkar Passport - a braided red and yellow string bracelet for your wrist. I still wear mine, although it's lost 90% of it's colour. I wear it to remember that moment. It was profound you know, I felt it deep inside with every word I uttered, with every name I spoke aloud. It was a confirmation of the highest order for the love you have for your family and those others you name. The only problem with it is the donation. The priest expects a donation of at least 500 rupees from tourists. You know where this is going, don't you?

I didn't have money of that size on me, so he sent his young assistant to escort me to my hotel, where I could obtain my donation. Maybe it was a bad thing to do, but come on, 500 rupees is excessive. This caste is the richest, most powerful caste in India. They don't need that kind of money from us - but still they demand it, even from their own poor. And they keep it all. My distaste for the Brahman caste stems from here, of which I am more than certain you will see referenced many times in future entries. At any rate, you should recall that I had a fake 500 rupee note from Agra. Oh yes I did. I got ripped off by a conman and I repaid the favour in kind. Karma is a bitch and I was it's avatar. The assistant didn't even notice it was fake - he saw a 500 rupee note and crammed it into his pocket and ran back to this master with it. Me, I chuckled, and walked back into town, just nowhere near that ghat, with my new bracelet. Do I feel bad about that now? A little. I've learned a lot more about karma since that day, about the choices we make and how they affect everything that comes next. Would I do it again? Uncertain, but tending towards it's likely, yes.

The infamous Pushkar Monkey Fight video was, obviously enough by it's name, shot here on top of the mountain across town with Brahma's Temple on it's crown. There was a cafe up here selling chai, coffee and other assorted drinks and snacks. There were wicker lounge chairs here, arranged at the edge so that you could sit, chill out to great ambient Indian house music and watch the sunset over the desert. And of course, you could torment the monkey with food, or they could torment you to get it. In the case of the video, for those that haven't seen it, it was staged to look like I was attacking them, but in the end, because of my bag of nuts, they swarmed me, attacked my legs, reaching into my cargo pant pockets and generally making me freaked out. Yes, the monkeys kicked my ass! Monkeys = 1, Joer = 0. Epic fail.

The sunset was quite exceptional - nothing like the one I would see a few days later in the Thar Desert in Jaisalmer, but still, it was something. The entire atmosphere of that mountain top was serene. The people were awesome up there, the music top notch and the smell of cannabis was everywhere. Joints passed up and down the line of chairs frequently as the sun made it's way below the horizon. And no, not my style... i prefer to drink it instead (you'll see). Even the monkeys sat watching the sunset - I kid you not. They watched it the way meerkats watch the sunrise in Africa - it was amazing to see this behavior from them - but then, I witnessed very real human behavior from them in many places around the country during my travels, so now, it doesn't really surprise me anymore - it's something I just expect to see. At the time though, it felt kind of bizarre to share something so common as watching a sunset together with them. They were amazingly gentle, voraciously aggressive and everything in between. Feeding them from my hand was quite fun! If I'd closed my fingers over the nuts, the monkeys would peel open my fist to get at them. Or they would get angry at me and hit me. Sometimes it was too much though - there were two alpha females that were hogging all of the food, as they had young to feed (still breast feeding), and there were innumerable young males all vying for the position of alpha male, so you can imagine how that scramble for food and dominance went. It was during those moments that I saw, and subsequently learned, how to become the alpha male in the pack. And to be honest, I used those tactics on monkeys all over India to great effect when I needed to assert that I was the alpha compared to them. All you need to do is quickly lunge your head in their direction and bare your teeth. Your speed, your size and your fearless aggressive movements make them back down, rapidly. And it's something they understand on an instinctive level - you aren't really altering anything in their behaviour by doing it this way - it's so much better than yelling and waving your arms like a fool or even throwing rocks or sticks at them. Those things just make them aggressive towards people and solve nothing. Triggering their instincts works so much better, faster and offers less chance for an attack.

And the people meeting thing started all over again in Pushkar - a few people I would see again much later and one that I had seen a few days ago in Jaipur - yep, the Spaniard showed up in Pushkar, at my hotel. Understand, Pushkar is small, yes, but its got 80+ hotels and guest houses in it. It is just weird how this all works, same people, same places, different times. Still, I didn't get his name - I really wish I did, he was cool! But it really is like that on the road. YOu just click with people and its like you've known them for a very long time - you talk and talk and go do stuff and it just never crosses your mind as to what their names are. I also met two girls from the Czech Republic here who I'd wished I gotten their names. I also met two guys from the USA, Carey and Mike (name exchange on their part), who had just arrived from Nagaland, a recently opened area of India that has been restricted to tourists for a very long time. They told me that in the two months they were in Nagaland, they never saw another white person. Kind of explains the name exchange. We had some good talks, and they actually came with me up to the Brahma Temple for sunset. I also met a real cool guy from Finland at the hotel too (all these people were at Hill View with me) who passed the day with Mike, Carey and I. The two Americans and I got along great and spent a lot of time together there in Pushkar. However, Mike and Carey left the day after sunset and I didn't see them again on my trip, to my dismay - they were heading north for Shimla and Manali. The Spaniard left for Bundi, the girls from the Czech left for Jaisalmer (the day before me) and the guy from Finland went to Natal.


One thing that I learned in Pushkar was that I really enjoy washing my clothes by hand. Strange, I know, but it's what we do on the road - with shampoo no less. Its rare to NOT see laundry draped over the balconies drying in the sun at a hotel. There really was a sense of purpose and accomplishment in doing it too - I really enjoyed it! To be honest, I only used a laundry service once on my whole trip, opting to do it myself.

Another thing I spent a lot of time doing in Pushkar was shopping. I got some really nice pillow covers, an orange one and a sky blue one, both with matching elephants embroidered on them. I also bought a tonne of postcards. I got myself the first of two travel journals that I would buy on my trip there as well, made from camel leather with an Om symbol on it for 75 rupees.

All of this distraction lessened my mental state from depression, because that's what it was in truth. Jaipur fucked me up large and the loneliness I was feeling en route to Pushkar were weighing heavily on me when I got here. By the time I left for Jaisalmer, I felt so much better. I'd shuttered Jaipur behind an iron curtain in my mind and didn't think of it much on my trip - once and a while it would creep out, but I got really good at suppressing it again. And speaking of Jaisalmer, I bought a bus ticket to get me there, as you'll recall there are no trains in Pushkar yet. It only cost me 300 rupees for the 14 hour ride, and it was a comfortable bus with functioning windows.

While I was waiting for the bus to arrive on the night I left (11:00pm) I saw something that replaced my Jaipur pain somewhat. As I stood there waiting for my bus, I watched a pair of dogs chasing EVERY vehicle that passed, car, motorbike, truck, rickshaw, whatever, and they were barking at them and biting at the tires and bumpers. I made a comment about this to the guy who worked at the bus stop and he told me that those two dogs were a mated pair and every time they had a litter, the puppies would get run over by vehicles. End result, the dogs equated them with something that killed their young and they would attack them to get them to leave the area. Very strange behaviour for dogs I thought, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a very natural reaction. They were only acting on instinct, driving away what they saw as predators. It actually was sad to hear the story, but to watch those two protect their latest litter of puppies was something that really brought a smile to my face and amazement to my mind.

And for once in the history of India, a bus actually showed up on time! As they say, "In India, anything is possible, except for the buses being on time". So, imagine my shock. I board my bus after storing my backpack, and started a 14 hour overnight ride to Jaisalmer with two Turkish people, a couple, I'd met outside the bus stand. Those two and I would become fast friends and hang out repeatedly, but that's a story for the next entry.

And yes, there were lessons learned in Pushkar. Obviously, I learned how to deal with what I saw in Jaipur, but more importantly, because of that Brahman ceremony I did, I felt a sense of the infinite, really, like there was something more to this universe than just us, something more powerful and indescribable. I learned, in short, a measure of faith. In what, I still don't really know, but I have an idea now...

India - In a Nutshell - Pt.5 (Jaipur)

Jaipur, the Pink City, my entry point into the desert state of Rajasthan and fourth stop on my travels. While not technically pink everywhere, the older walled-in part of the city is. And 11km north of the city limits lies Amber Fort, which is in fact the colour of amber. Although I didn't make it to Amber this time around, much to my dismay, I am sure you will understand my reasons for limiting my stay in Jaipur to just the one night. And to be fair, I don't know how I feel about going back there next time around, either... even if I do really want to see Amber.

Jaipur, Rajasthan : January 24, 2011 - January 25, 2011

Have you ever been shocked by something you've witnessed? I mean really shocked? Take a moment to consider it; shocked to the point where you cannot even put words to your own emotions? Where, even if you did have those words, you wouldn't be able to put a voice to them because by doing so, you would be reliving the moment? Something so heinous that it haunts your waking hours and does worse to you once sleep finally does overtake you? If you can honestly answer no that this question, consider yourself very, very lucky - I envy you your innocence. And I'll be honest here - I am finding it very fucking difficult to write about this section of my trip, so it'll likely be short.

Leaving Agra (5:10am - yeck), while saddening to a degree, was also exciting because I would be starting my tour of Rajasthan, a place many of my friends spoke nothing but good things about. And my entry point into the state was the state capital,Jaipur, the Pink City. Called so because the original palatial area of the city is encased within a wall composed of pink stone, as are most of the buildings within said walls, with the exception of newer additions to the area and some of the temples and shrines.

On the train, the Ajmer Express, I met a guy from Spain (who I called the Spaniard) who was heading to Amber. We had talked a bit on the train. At the time we got off the train (9:30am), I was considering going with him, but got waylaid by two locals that wanted to "help" me find a hotel. The Spaniard was only in for the day, and wasn't taking a hotel, so I reluctantly went with the two locals, because I did need a hotel. We three went for chai and had a great conversation about many things; religion, the humanities and the connections we make in life to other people. It was a very interesting conversation, but I could sense it was steering me towards being inclined to trusting them. Fact is, I kind of did - they were very nice, without being "too" nice, you know? And the conversation was stimulating. In the end, I did go with them (free in their car) to the hotel their uncle owned. It was a little more than I would have liked to have paid (500 rupees) but it was a suite - seriously, a 5 star suite. I could have chosen a lesser room, but truth be told, I wanted a nice one to start my desert tour off with. And the shower was amazing! And to be truthful, and I hate myself for admitting it - but I wanted the air conditioner! LoL! It's seriously hot in the desert in the daytime.

After checking in and grabbing a quick shower, I headed out into the city, with the goal of losing myself in the back streets, so I could see the real Jaipur. And it was sublime! There is a very real difference between the India you see in the developed places that a tourist would frequent and the India you don't see, unless you go way off the beaten trail. The houses are nowhere near as nice looking on first glance, however when you take the time to really see them, they are more real that the modern homes. They look lived in, they show their years. They are full of history, charm - in short, there is so much to see, even on just one wall. The newer modern homes lack that lived-in look. They feel more like museums than homes to be honest. The are uni-color and while well manicured, they just are nowhere near as eye catching as the older hovels in the back alleys.

And I also got hit by a motorcycle here! LoL! Although, it did hurt like a bastard for an hour or so. You see, in India, they don't have traffic lights or signs. They don't even use their signal lights to turn corners. They honk. For everything they do in a vehicle - lane change, turn corners, etc. Well, this guy on the bike didn't, so I crossed the road, and Wham! He hits me, hard enough to knock me aside. And what does he do? He takes off, without so much as an "I'm sorry", or anything. Because, in India, when you cause an accident, you are at fault for causing pain, and that can get you beaten near to death apparently. I've heard stories of this happening all over the country. So, I understand why the guy took off, but come on... I'm a fucking tourist! Yeah, that's likely a good reason to split on second thought. Anyways, the back roads...

Here and there, kids played at being kids - a far cry from what I'd seen on my way to Agra. Here there seemed to be no work yards for them to be enslaved to - nothing to do all day long save for those things kids do; go to school, help their mothers with the chores and play. Oh those smiling little faces! So happy, so carefree, so ignorant of what the world could really be like. I wish I had have taken some photos, you know, but somewhere along the way I'd developed this unease with photographing people for the sake of having a photo. I have a big problem with shoving a camera in someone's life and taking a piece of it. And I'll be honest, this carried with me for my entire trip - although I did see and meet many people along the way that just didn't feel the same way (I'll really get into this in the Mumbai section).

Another thing that I found fascinating were the collection of farm livestock in these back roads. There were the usual assortment of cows, goats, pigs and chickens, all running the streets without a care in the world - save for moving away from cars and stupid white tourists named Joe who wanted to take their pictures! There were even monstrous boars here, rummaging through the assorted piles of refuse, looking for an easy meal. And I mean monstrous! Some of them looked to weigh more than 200 pounds!

Making my way through the back roads, I came at last to the gates of the Pink City, where there was a market and a temple dedicated to Hanuman, the monkey god. I walked those markets for hours, just savouring the various aromas - Jaipur is a spice lovers mecca! Every possible colour of curry is available here - I even bought 200g of the spiciestyellow curry powder I could find to bring home. I can't wait to get into my apartment and cook something with it - who's hungry? I make a killer Channa Masala! There were hundreds of shops, selling jewelry, blankets of all sorts, and the usual clothing - pasminas, sarees, etc. It was overwhelming to be blunt - the market road, the main strip in the Pink City, runs for miles. It took me over an hour to walk the length of it. But then, I was stopping quite a bit. I even met a guy who took me into his diamond shop, where he showed me how the workers polish and cut the stones. Very interesting and powered entirely by manpower. It, of course, was a snare to get me to buy jewelry to bring back to Canada, which I of course declined. I did however accept his offer of going rooftop to shoot some photos of the city and the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds).

The Hawa Mahal is a rather interesting piece of architecture. It stands with a thousand windows, all facing the streets. From my understanding, in the old days when the Raja's ruled, the royal women were not allowed in public, so this palace was built for them, with the thousand coloured windows, so that they could at least look out on the city without being seen by the commoners. Kind of backward thinking behaviour to be sure, but it was what it was. And it worked for them. In either case, the building is simply magnificent!

It was here that I discovered that the guy who sold me the batteries at Agra Fort had slipped me a fake 500 rupee note. I went to buy my aunt a small elephant carved from alabaster from a vendor using said bill. I was told flat out it was a fake. The vendor even showed me how to tell it was not genuine in a couple different ways - very thoughtful of him! But what the hell was I going to do with that 500 rupee note now (you'll find out)?

Walking again through some back roads, on my way to see the Jantar Mantar, an observatory used to measure time, track stars, etc - much the same uses as other such devices the world over, I came across the scene that will now haunt me for the rest of my days. I don't even know if I want to write this stuff - it's brutal and a lot of you may be better off not to have read it. If you've a weak stomach, I urge you, no, I beg you, to skip down until you see the all clear text. And I know, right -  it's like when someone says, "Don't look", but you do anyways. Seriously - don't.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT FOLLOWS

 Last chance offered to scroll down - ample warning has been given. So, as I walked those streets the sharp, piercing sound of a dog in pain echoed off the walls of the buildings around me. And I don't mean the usual sound of a dog being kicked, I mean mortal pain. I don't deal well with that sort of thing, okay, I always tend to run over to see what I can do, for people and for animals. Call it the latent doctor in me, or if you won't, call it compassionate. Whatever. As I was nearing the source of the cry of the dog, other sounds starting becoming clear too, other dogs and the sound you would hear of you were to smash a watermelon full-force with a baseball bat. Yeah, you know what? I can't do this... suffice it to say, there were dozens of people armed with really big sticks beating the dogs, to death. And throwing their bodies into a pit, full of dead dogs on fire. Why? I was told because there were too many dogs and these were the worst of the lot. They needed to be destroyed as they were teaching other dogs bad things and they were killing other animals. Whatever - they're fucking wild dogs, rght? The Indians don't keep them as pets as a general rule, so they ALL run around, doing bad shit and eating other animals. If they were rabid, I could understand. But this? For no reason than you can't control the dog population in some other less violent way? Yeah, I was shocked. Yes I was horrified. Yes I still hear it all in the stillness of the night. And yes I do have pictures - for how much longer, I can't say. I'm really close to deleting them because I just don't want the reminder. I'm actually sickened right now. I've dreaded doing this entry - I've been trying to write it for four days or more and it just won't come out. This is the most I can say, this is the most I can do. You get the gist. Have fun sleeping with it. Seal clubbing is nothing to what I saw - abject cruelty, there's no other words to describe it.

GRAPHIC CONTENT ENDED

After that episode, I was sick. Physically sick - right there on the street. It's one thing to see that sort of thing in the newspapers or on the news, but it's something else entirely to see it first hand. And the worst thing of it all is that there was nothing I could do - I was forced away from it by the locals - likely because they don't want the story to get out. Too late fuckers, its out now. Still, as shitty as I felt, I came all that way and I was damned if I wasn't going to see Jantar Mantar.

I made my way there, stopping occasionally because, and I'll be truthful here, I couldn't control myself. Between the shock and the sickness, there were the tears. Lots of them. Alright, enough said... Jantar Mantar was amazing, no lie there. But my mind wasn't really on it, you know? I took photos, I walked around, but you know what? I didn't really see it. I have no clue as to it's layout or purpose, other than from looking at my pictures of it and from what I read in my Lonely Planet. I was so disconnected (shock) that I went back to my hotel, sat on he bathroom floor with the shower running on me (clothes and all) and just soaked myself. I can't tell you how long I sat there - but the hot water eventually ran out and I started to get cold, which was a dual blessing - it's hot in the desert and it snapped me out of my funk.

There isn't much more to tell to be honest. I changed, took my clothes to my patio and hung them to dry. Went to the internet cafe and bought a train ticket out of there to get me to Ajmer and Pushkar for the next day and then went back to the hotel to shut myself off from this place. I'm sure that Jaipur is amazing - I'm sure it has a lot to offer someone. But for me, it is a place of sorrow, a place of death. I took 2 diazepam tablets and slept until the next morning (6:00pm - 8:30am)...

And the next morning, I packed up my gear and left... yeah, I don't think I will go back there, Amber or not. Thankfully Pushkar was just what I needed to balance out and feel better about life; although, as you'll eventually read, it did take me a long, lonely time on the top of a mountain to quiet the echoes that I now hear only when I close my eyes...

Photo Correction

So I started playing with my photo set for the movie (vignette portions). I've got the motion paths set up for all of the pans and zooms, using Lightwave to animate the transitions. I'm also using a Technicolor Image processing filter to colour correct the images. Here's the results...

Left: Original                                Right: Technicolor Processed

I might have to tweak the technicolor process once and a while, picture depending... still, it's nice to have these old Hollywood tools kicking around, that's for sure!

India - In a Nutshell - Pt.4 (Agra)

Agra, home of the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort, the third stop on my whirlwind journey around India. A place of stunning beauty, contrasting ugliness and street vendors out to get your money in any way possible. A city on the verge of making grand changes to the way it powers motor vehicles - a city on the verge of losing the very thing that makes it the travel destination of choice for the world. The place where I ran out of Excel gum and could find no substitute... FML!

Agra, Uttar Pradesh : January 22, 2011 - January 24, 2011

Writing about Agra is going to be a very personalized account of sensations that I experienced while there - some of it heart wrenching and some of it profoundly beautiful. Before I get to that, I guess I should talk about the nightmare of getting from Rishikesh to Agra. Originally, I had purchased a ticket for a deluxe sleeper bus (a bus with bunk beds in it above the seats), which was to take me to Delhi overnight, where I would connect with a train heading to Agra. Unfortunately for me, that bus was cancelled as I was the only person booked on it. However, the travel agent found me another bus, although not a deluxe one, that would get me to Delhi on time to make my train at Hazrat Nizamuddin rail station. And let me tell you, that bus was a fucking nightmare! It was night, so dark as the deepest pit you can name. The roads were barely that - it was more like a dirt trail through very rough terrain. And to top it off, it was very cold that night, these buses don't have heat and the windows would not close. Yes, I nearly froze and got almost no sleep at all. It was in fact, my worst nightmare ride in India! Yet somehow, we managed to get into Delhi at 5:00am - just not where it was supposed to make it's final stop - instead of being at Nizamuddin, it stopped at the Old Delhi rail station, about 30 kilometers away (yes, Delhi is in fact that big - bigger even). So, I had to negociate a rickshaw ride to Nizamuddin, which at that time of night is a seller's market - which is to say that the driver names his price. They know they've got you too because you need to go there and there are no other ways for you to make it. In the end, it cost me WAY too much (250 rupees). In the daytime, that ride would have been less than 100, or I could have taken the Metro for far less. But, like I said, at 4am, the driver gets whatever price he asks and you can't bargain.

At Hazrat Nizamuddin, I caught my train, the Taj Express, to Agra at 7:10am. Luckily, I had booked a window seat and so was able to fully observe the transition from urban environment to the rural farmlands between Delhi and Agra. It was on this three hour ride that I had my first real glimpse of India, outside of a city. Yes, Rishikesh was a far-cry from an urban center, but it was developed. Out here, this was the real deal - farms, villages, way stations and slums. It was here that I really suffered my first series of heartbreaks. I saw some very beautiful things, of that there is no doubt, but I also saw things that broke my heart, things that revolted me and things I could not understand. I saw dilapidated villages, obviously peopled by those who could find no work and were willingly scraping by on the detrius of human society. I saw small shanties assembled around a pond that appeared more like a garbage dump - and people would use this as a toilet, as a bath, for their laundry and also to drink from and to cook with. And I do not exaggerate when I say that the 'water' was more like pea soup than anything else. And I absolutely kid you not about the uses for this water, because I did in fact see all of those activities in action, simultaneously. It staggers my mind, even now, to think how those unfortunate people could not see the dangers implicit from such contamination and cross-purposed usage. It amazes me even more, to be sure, that they were still there to do so - if you or I tried to drink that water, we'd likely die, and yet somehow, they survive and thrive there. Immunity to be sure. Still, it would be nice to go to a place such as that, with less than 100 people living there, and do a cleanup and to educate them on how to improve the quality of their water and subsequently, their lives. To be honest, this is something that I now really want to do and something I plan to do on my next visit. The reasons for that decision will be explained in a much later entry (Hampi).

Another thing that really tore at my heart were the brick pits. Here, people would make bricks; red bricks, yellow bricks, bricks of any colour imaginable. What bothered me most about this was the child labour - I rarely saw anyone over the age of 10 working in these pits. And these were not well-feed children either. They were way too skinny and I can only assume largely overworked. No schooling nor leisure for them, they were likely following in the footsteps of their fathers and would pass the torch to their own children, should they live long enough to have them. Now, I know there are reasons for this, especially in such a poor place, but I simply cannot, nor will ever, accept enforced child labour. Another thing that got to me about these pits was the smoke that would issue from the ovens that the bricks were baked in. These ovens ranged from smoke stacks to mountains of bricks pilled 20 feet high in 100 foot by 100 foot pyramids (with the fires underneath them). The sheer amount of smoke that spewed skywards was disgusting. I have no idea what they were burning, but the colour of the smoke was black, and it really did obscure the sky. Pollution is enough of a problem in this country without this adding to it. There surely has to be a better, cleaner way...

A brickyard en route to Goa from Mumbai

I saw many beautiful things that took my breath away as well. As the sun crested the tree line, the fog over the rice fields slowly, oh so slowly, burned away; both haunting and alluring at the same time. The lush emerald green of the rice plants, subdued in part by the hazy wisps of fog that was slightly obscuring the ghosted trees on the edge of the fields, was very ethereal and atmospheric. And here and there, like sparkling jewels among that sea of green, were the vibrant pink and orange sarees of the women at work in the fields, collecting the day's harvest. It was like watching a living and constantly evolving piece of art being painted before your very eyes, with all of the colours popping out in vivid contrast to one another. I saw too, many animals running wild on this train ride; gazelles, boar, whooping cranes and assorted water fowl. Another sight that was a feast for the eyes was the stark contrast between the green of the rice fields and the colour of the various sarees the women who worked the fields were wearing; bright pinks and oranges - it was a splash of colour in a sea of green. It's too bad I was on the train and going by too quickly to get good photos, because I surely would have loved to have added the images to my photo library!

I finally arrived at Agra Canttonment Station at around 10:30am and went through the dance of finding the right rickshaw driver. What you need to be careful about when choosing a driver is that they will take you exactly where you want to go. You see, in India, as with other places on the planet I'm sure, the drivers are paid a commission from various guest houses to divert tourists to them. The drivers use all sorts of stories to get you to change your preferred hotel to one they suggest - ranging from it burned down, to it's full, to the roads leading to it are blocked, etc. So, I found the right one and I knew he was the right one because he asked where "I" wanted to go and immediately said, "Good hotel" when I told him the name, Tourist Rest House. It was only a 5 minute drive from the train station and cost 40 rupees. And to top it all off, the driver was a funny little bastard! All he was interested in talking about was having sex; with his wife, his girlfriend and his other girlfriend. So much for monogamy in India! I knew nothing about this hotel, other than what was written in the Lonely Planet, but I was very impressed with it upon arrival. It was built like a hollow square, with the rooms lining the four sides and a large garden / terrace in the center, full of plants, palm trees and a working fountain. My room was 300 rupees a night, had a double bed, a western toilet and hot water shower. And it was bug free!

Since the morning was spent, I decided to hold off on visiting the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort until my second day in Agra, as there is a discount of 50 rupees if you visit both on the same day. I'm sure I could have done it that afternoon, but I really wanted to see the sun rise at the Taj Mahal as the pristine marble changes colour with the red light shift of the morning sun. So instead, I went exploring the markets around my hotel. And I obtained a rather nasty virus on ALL of my electronic equipment (cameras, ipod and USB key) that I wouldn't discover for over a month and wouldn't be able to clean off my devices until near the end of my trip. I feel sort of bad that I may have been infecting computers left, right and center on my voyage, but there wasn't anything I could do at the time - I didn't even know about it. Ah well, I'm sure it was harmless enough and I'm sure it wasn't the first or the last time it happens.

The markets were really something to see and experience. As with New Delhi, anything you could want was there for the finding with a little searching. Hell, I even bought some Viagra here - not because I need it, but just because it was available, it was cheap and I'm sure it'll be fun! What I did notice here is that most of the items on sale in the markets I visited were either exclusively for scooters and motorbikes, or were second hand items. I did happen upon a small strip of stores catering to the more affluent, notably kitchen supply stores - which of course, we all know I visited. I'm not sure the salesmen got why I didn't want to buy a new fridge or air conditioner, but they certainly kept trying to sell them to me! The aroma of the spice market was heaven - it was all I could do not to purchase every spice I came across!

Mental note: New apartment = killer spice rack! Indian dinner parties anyone?

On the morning of the 23rd, I woke up at 5:00am so that I could be in line for the opening of the Taj Mahal at 6:30am. It's a good thing I got the drop on the day as there were not very many people up and about to compete with for placing in the queue. One thing I was least impressed with upon getting to the Taj Mahal was the cost; 750 rupees for tourists and only 20 rupees for Indians. At least our fee included our still camera cost (250 rupees extra for video though). Once the gates opened and we were processed through security, it was a scramble by all assembled to be the first to walk through the South Gate and see the Taj Mahal. Since it was still foggy, I held back a bit and shot some photos of the gateways themselves. As it was, when I got to the South Entrance, it was still rather foggy and my photos reflected that. Still, that first sight of the Taj Mahal, perfectly framed through the archway of the gateway was awe inspiring. It literally took my breath away as I stood there, stock still, soaking up the sight of it all; the approach to the Taj itself, the manicured lawns and bushes, even the famed Princess Diana bench. It was so beautiful, that even the obstruction from the fog didn't marr those first moments for me.

Taking photos from every possible angle, while waiting for the sun to rise was so much fun! I must have looked like a child in a candy store, running to every vantage point I could, looking for the best photo I could get. Fog or no, I knew that the sun would rise eventually and burn it away, so I wasn't worried about it. I lived in the moment and just absorbed as much of the beauty of the grounds and the Taj itself as I could. My cameras, if they could speak, would still be complaining about that morning!

Once the sun had risen, I observed the true magnificence of the Taj Mahal's marble construction - it started to change from a dull white, through orange and rose and finally onwards to pristine white. It was a wonder to behold to be sure! And well worth the early morning! I urge anyone reading this, if you ever go to India - do the Taj first thing in the morning; you will not be disappointed! With the sun now risen, I decided it was time to mount the stairs and view this monument to love up close and personal. Before I could do that though, I had to put on these cute little bright pink pull-on slippers over my sandals to help protect the marble. The first few moments of actually being on the monument itself - wow - I am still to this day without words (I know right? Me, without words). I was actually glued to the spot, just marvelling at it for the longest time. Every detail is etched in my mind, from the intricately carved reliefs of flowers to the flowing arabic script surrounding the entrance to the Taj Mahal itself. Yes! You can in fact enter the Taj Mahal, where the tomb is still located.

The tomb, for Shah Jahan the Second's fourth wife, lies dead center in the Taj, which is built symmetrically. You can cut the Taj into four sections, and each one would be identical, with the tomb having equal proportions in each slice. Isn't that something? I tell you, it is something, that when you first see it, you wonder at the skill of the artisians who assisted in it's construction - such skill!

The Taj Mahal is beauty and love personified in stone; there really is no other way to say it. I felt it on such a deep level - it actually moved me to tears. This man loved his wife so much, he built her a memorial that took him 22 years to complete. Who can we say would do such a thing in our day and age? And that memorial has stood through the years from then until now, untainted, unspoiled, except for in recent years...

You see, in India, they use diesel fuel and the exhaust from them creates acid rain, which eats away at the marble of the Taj Mahal. In recent years, the government has banned the use of such fuel burning vehicles within a set distance from the monument. But does this really and truly help? I personally don't see how it could, but at least it is a start. There is also the problem of the Yamuna River - it is slowly eroding the banks under the Taj Mahal, causing it to tilt towards the river. Unless a solution is found, it is within reasonable assumption that the entire monument could shift and eventually tip over into the river itself. As I was visiting, the archaeological society was performing surveys to assess the situation and looking for possible solutions that would preserve both the river and the monument. Time will tell what the solution to these issues will be. I hope it is quick and I hope it will be good - it would be a shame for this marvel of the ancient world to be destroyed because of our modern ways.

After visiting the Taj Mahal and completely killing the batteries on my SLR, I headed off to visit the Agra Fort, which is often overshadowed by the Taj. I have to tell you, that while it wasn't the Taj Mahal, it was marvelous in it's own rights, with amazing architecture! The play of light and shadow in this structure was candy of the highest order for my cameras. Yes, I did in fact get new batteries outside of the fort - as well as a fake 500 rupee bill (this will be important information later). All told, the fort took about an hour and half to tour, especially since I was forced to wait in a few places to get the perfect photo, waiting for the room to be free of fellow sightseers. In one spot alone, I waited over 20 minutes, before I started asking people to please move so I could get the shot I wanted before the light changed and I lost my opportunity. That's the thing here, people are all looking for that perfect shot, so they understand when you find yours and are happy to oblige. The fort, while different than it's competition for tourist dollars, was something special and I recall it quite fondly. This may have something to do with the fact that I've known about the Agra Fort since I was a child, reading Sherlock Holmes stories (it is featured in The Sign of Four). It was really an amazing thing to finally see and touch this place after having read about it all those years ago.

After my whirlwind walking tour of Agra to the Taj Mahal and Fort, I went back to my hotel, to get my gear ready, as I would be leaving Agra the next morning, heading into the state of Rajasthan, to the Pink City, Jaipur. When I got back to the hotel, there were these two girls in the patio eating. And this is where I started to notice a phenomenon, one of the girls, I had met in Delhi, on my 3rd day. She had gone to Rajasthan and was now in Agra, just eating lunch, in all places, my hotel. We sat and talked for a long time, and I even held their bags for them while they went hunting for the internet (that earned me some Rocher chocolates! Yummy!). But yeah, as will occur from time to time in these narratives, you'll see that I keep bumping into the same people, over and over again, separated by time and places. It was a very weird thing for me to experience in Agra, because it is NOT a small place. So for this girl to be here was a little mind blowing to say the least!

As I lay in bed that night, trying desperately to sleep, I kept seeing the Taj Mahal in my mind's eye. I couldn't shake it's construction, it's lines, curves, it's beautiful symmetry. I too couldn't shake the feeling of the love it took to build it. I couldn't fathom it, I still can't really, but at least I have a good idea now. It seemed as though my thoughts about lessons being learned was still proving true - I had seen beauty and I had experienced what true love means, and more importantly, I didn't just think I knew what they were, I could feel them on a fundamental, deep level. And I knew, and still know this to be true because the thought of it now still brings tears to my eyes, a shortness of breath and a quickening of the heart. It also brings in equal measure, sadness - for I do not believe that I have ever truly experienced this myself with another person. I think I came close lately, but not completely. I can tell you that I am eager for that day - eager to find the person that makes me want to build a monument for all time, and for all people to see and marvel at.

And that wraps up this episode of my journey. Next entry, I will tell you about Jaipur and the worst day of my life. I think I am ready to talk about that now... and no Aude, even you don't know about this.

India - In a Nutshell - Pt.3 (Rishikesh)

And here we are for the next installment. My second stop would take me from New Delhi, the capital of India, northbound towards the Himalaya to Rishikesh via Haridwar, for a four day sojourn at the source of the Ganges river. Four days in the most peaceful place I've been on Earth - four days of meditation, yoga and nature at it's most rugged. Four days of monkey madness!!!

Rishikesh, Uttarakhand : January 18, 2011 - January 22, 2011

NDLS, New Delhi Railway Station, was my exit point for leaving New Delhi. At 3:30pm, I boarded the Dehradun Shatabati Express headed for Haridwar, one of the holiest cities in Hinduism, site of last year's Kumbh Mela. The Kumbh Mela is a massive pilgrimage in which Hindus gather at the Ganges river. There are four sites where the Mela is held, depending on the positions of the Sun and Jupiter. In 2010, the Mela held at Haridwar was host to over 40 million devotees, who came to bathe in the Ganges, hold religious discussions, devotional singing, mass feeding of holy men and women and the poor, and religious assemblies where doctrines were debated and standardized. And trust me, after having seen this in a documentary, I'm very glad I wasn't there when it was going on! Yeah, it would have been cool, but I think it would have been a little much to handle and navigate for a first timer!

As it was, Haridwar was virtually a ghost town when I arrived at around 7:30pm, aside from the local inhabitants. The most interesting thing that I learned on that train ride was that there are no announcements on the train when it stops at stations, so you really need to pay attention at each stop to be sure you don't miss yours. Luckily for me I was sitting with some very nice locals en route to Dehradun who advised me when I needed to get off. I would eventually learn how to manage my exits from the trains, but that would come during my tour of the state of Rajasthan. Exiting the train, I was immediately set upon by a multitude of rickshaw wallahs, hoping to earn a few easy rupees by ferrying me to the bus stand, where I needed to go to catch a ride to Rishikesh. They were asking for 50 rupees to take me there, but I was studying my Lonely Planet guidebook and knew the bus stand was only a 2 minute walk up the road from the train station. Suffice it to say, I declined their offers for a ride! I actually found it, at the time, kind of offensive that they would try to bilk me of money in such a way. Now, I understand these people better - I know how hard their lives are, how little money they actually make per day, and how their lack of education colours their views of Westerners, in terms of how they think we are all immeasurably rich.

I literally got to the bus stand as a bus was leaving for Rishikesh - I had to jump in front of it to get it to stop and let me on! Although, if I hadn't have gotten on it, there would've been another one in 30 minutes or so - but it was getting very dark and it was definately colder here than in Delhi. The bus cost 20 rupees ($0.45) for the ride, which was only 30 minutes or so. I met a really cool girl from Athens, Greece on the bus, Lena, who was heading to Rishikesh too. And what a ride that bus was! The roads were pockmarked with potholes, littered with speed bumps and not lit in any manner worth mentioning. It was like being on a roller coaster, blindfolded - a rickety wooden roller coaster at that! As we cleared the bridge from town, I got a good view of the holy ghats of Haridwar, as well as the giant statue of Shiva at the entrance to the city limits. Since we were on a bus though, and moving quite quickly I might add, I didn't get to take any photos of them, to my dismay. It was rather dark, as I mentioned, so I don't think the photos would have turned out well anyways. (Note to self: Next trip mate, next trip!)

I'd reserved a hotel in Rishikesh before I left for India (big mistake that ~ hotels should *never* be booked in advance), at a cost of 200 rupees a night, with all amenities included. Lena hadn't reserved anywhere yet, so she decided to accompany me to mine, and take a room for the night. Once in Rishikesh (village), we had to take a rickshaw to Rams Jhula, where we had to take a 2nd rickshaw up the hill to the hotel. Wasted effort there! The hotel had closed down, and we couldn't get a room - well, we could have, for 1200 rupees a night, according to the custodian. Unwilling to dish out such a crazy amount of money, we decided to head across the river and find different lodging for the night. Lena made a call and we found rooms at Ganga View Hotel (200 rupees / night), located at the base of the mountains in Lakshman Jhula. The rooms were great with terraces that faced the Ganges - although it was almost completely obscured by the buildings in front of us, there was still a sliver of it that I could see from my balcony. By the time we were settled in, it was almost 9:00pm. Near to exhausted, we still had the energy to go to a very nice restaurant and grab a late night meal before calling it a day.

I have to say, waking up the next morning was one of the most memorable experiences of my trip. It started at 6:00am on the button with the clangng of bells and gongs. Which was eventually joined by Buddhist chanted mantras, the sounds of birds and monkeys waking to the new day, layered over top of the sounds of the Ganges running its course and the wind blowing gently through the trees. I literally stayed in bed listening to this symphony until 7:30am when the mantras stopped. To be honest, that was so much better than an alarm clock! After the usual morning routine we all have, because being in India doesn't change that, I headed across Lakshman Jhula bridge to check out a German Bakery that came highly rated in the LP guide - called the Devraj Coffee House; which would incidentally be my main source of sustenance during my stay in Rishikesh, since it was so good. The main restaurant was a collection of four seater tables scattered along a railed terrace overlooking the bridge and the Ganges. The baked goods were unequaled anywhere in town and the cappuccino was very tasty too (and we all know how much I love my coffee). On that first morning, while having a conversation with a girl from Toronto I'd met (Andrea), a baby monkey came onto my table and stole my croissant! I actually got in shit from a local for that too, because she thought I'd fed the monkey. I understand her rationale though - what she said, paraphrased, was that the monkey would learn bad habits, grow big and aggressive and be a problem for them to manage. And while I would leave in a few days, they would be there to have to deal with the issue of naughty of monkeys, growing fat on the fruits of their thefts or the handouts from tourists. Totally understandable. You know, no-one minds if you feed them on the bridge or elsewhere - but in the restaurant, nope, this is definate no-no. I explained that it was in fact just carelessness and lack of understanding of the monkey's behaviour patterns that had earned him a free croissant and all was forgiven.

I had many funny things happen in Rishikesh with monkeys. At one point, a monkey I was filming wanted a bite of my chocolate bar (I found a Bounty in India!), so I gave him a small piece. The thing is, monkeys don't like chocolate! This little guy was doing everything he could to get the coconut out of the bar, chewing it out, rolling it on the group, etc. But the look on his face when he tasted the chocolate ~ priceless! You could clearly see the disgust register on his face, in every way you would see it on a person's face! On another occasion while hiking the trails up into the mountains to visit a local waterfall, I was attacked by a clan of langur monkeys, who threw rather large sticks from the treetops at me. Up there, they don't see many people, so they react defensively, in an attempt to scare off intruders to their territory. I wasn't hurt or even hit, although I think one of the dogs that came with me up the tree may have. Yeah, I had friends in Rishikesh (dogs), in fact on that hike a little dog followed me from Lakshman Jhula all the way to the top of the waterfall, which took about 2 hours or so to get to. And he came just as I was starting to really miss having people around, which is to say, he came right at the right moment. The universe was giving me what I needed most it seemed. ;)

I discovered a very secluded spot on a rock one day, that sat literally in the Ganges. I would end up spending many hours here every day, reading, listening to my ipod and meditating. I even did some yoga on that rock, since it was so flat. It was on that rock that I discovered peace of mind - not the most peace I found on my trip, but the first taste of it. I stopped feeling and I stopped thinking. I was in the moment, which is something I can't do normally. My mind works at near to 10,000 miles an hour usually, but here, no - it ceased all activity. To be honest, at that time, it was the most at peace I'd felt in so very long. I can attribute some of that stillness to the Sadhu from Delhi, as he was speaking to me of ways to quiet my mind, which I was willing to try, once. Suffice it say, it is a practice I still use today and have even shown a few other people.

I also experienced my first Ganga Aarti, a religious ceremony where the performer faces the deity of God (or divine element, e.g. Ganges river) and concentrates on the form of God by looking into the eyes of the deity (it is said that eyes are the windows to the soul) to get immersed. At these aartis, candles are offered to the river, in small flower ladden bowls, that will float down river until they burn out. Lena and I went to the one here (I would attend others in my travels later), which was kind of small, but very intense none-the-less. We purchased candles and sent them on their merry way down river. Me, I loaded mine up with all of the negative emotions I was having at the time. It was a way for me to start to let go of it all, as best I could (the real release would come in Varanasi, planned as such from the start). And I will say this, it did it's job, that release ~ the ensuing calmness was bliss!

I had an amazing moment one day when I was literally swarmed by 40 kids from the state of Gujarat, who wanted to speak to me and take photos with me. At first, my initial reaction was one of someone who's bubble had just been invaded. I was slightly uncomfortable being so enclosed by strangers, all speaking to me at the same time and reaching out to shake my hand. After a few moments, it got to be really fun taking photos and talking. But my old self kicked in and I felt the need for some personal space after about 10 minutes of this. I did leave them all there and walked onwards down the ghats - and then I realized I was India not to avoid these chance encounters, but to embrace them, so I went back, collected as many of the kids as I could and got a group photo with them all. And you know? It made me feel very good to do it! And it made for an amazing photo and story too!

I discovered that I could live a life lacking my usual sense of urgency in Rishikesh. Everything was just so chill and relaxed there. There was no hustle or bustle as there was in Delhi. Life went at it's own pace and time ticked away unmeasured. It was a different sensation for me not to be so engrossed in time, but a thing I learned to do well. It was here I first heard the immortal phrase, "No hurries, no worries", likely the most famous saying in India next to "Same same, but different" and "In India, anything is possible brother". I noticed that my pulse was starting to normalize again while here ~ my blood pressure had been entirely too high since October and my heart raced all the time because of stress, anxiety and everything I had been going though. Here though, the pace of life just slowed me right down.

Rishikesh was a godsend location, that lived up to my every expectation. It was one of my top places to visit prior to actually making the trip, and I am glad that I did it. I still feel her in my veins and I miss her tranquility fiercely. I've even gone to the trouble of recreating the morning "symphony" with sounds obtained from the internet, just so I can listen to it once in a while. Cheesy maybe, but for me, necessary, if for nothing else than to remind me of one of the most peaceful and beautiful moments in my life; a time when I really felt at peace with myself and with the world. I would gladly recommend it to anyone (and I did so often on my travels). I will definately come back here on my next trip...

And you know what? I was in the Himalayan Mountains - how many people can claim that? Not just in them, but actually hiked up into them. Which I must say that in hindsight may not have been a bright thing to do on my own. Mr 50/50 made one too many appearances on this trip - it may very well have been the first bonehead thing I would do in India, but it certainly would not be the last. And I just have to laugh at myself for that, and all the other "incidents" now. Such an idiot! LoL!

Leaving Rishikesh was tough, because I really did love it there! But my time line had been established and I needed to make my way south, in search of a sunrise in Agra, at the Taj Mahal - one of the seven wonders of the world.

I made a note in passing in my journal, while in Rishikesh, that I seemed to be learning some lessons on my trip. I noticed that I had learned acceptance for what is in Delhi and peace of mind in Rishikesh. Was I onto something here? Would each destination offer me a lesson to be learned? Time would tell...

Part four concerning Agra is coming soon...