the globeTROTTERS

Our time in India is coming to a close.  We have been here for over a month now and just finished a quick trip up the southern west coast.  Last stop is Mumbai (formerly Bombay in the British world).

We get into Mumbai prettty late at night.  Our flight from Kochi was delayed.  This really sucks because the central tourist area of Mumbai is almost an hour's drive from the airport.  We stumble off the plane into the Mumbai airport already tired from having to sit around in the Kochi airport for hours.  Mumbai is nuts.  Baggage claim is a mass crowd of people, even though it is after midnight.  Some dudes get in a heated argument in baggage claim; a crowd is gathered.  There is much shouting.  Not a warm welcome to Mumbai. 

Chrissy and I had spent the previous couple of days trying to book a hotel in Mumbai.  We heard that this was necessary because the town fills up.  We called a few guest houses but couldn't reach someone that spoke English.  Having given up, we are now in the airport late at night without a hotel reservation.  There is a hotel desk in the bag claim area but the guy only has really expensive rooms to offer.  He tells us that most places are booked and only expensive ones are left.  I ask him to do us a favor and call one of the budget places that we can't communicate with (doubting he will do this because he gets paid to book the pricey places).  The dude is pretty cool and calls a couple of places before finding us a room and making a reservation.  We collect our bags and head out to catch a taxi.  More craziness.  There is a queue for taxis that is a mile long.  Luckily, it moves really quick because the process is facilitated by policemen.  The taxi is barely able to stop and you have to jump in with the police guys hurrying you along.

Our taxi driver didn't speak any English, not that we were expecting him to.  We did, however, expect him to be able to find our hotel which we could show him the name of and point on a map.  This doesn't help at all.  We get to the correct part of town and then he just starts driving around.  Every couple of blocks he pulls a u-turn, stops, and asks someone directions.  I can understand not being able to find an individual hotel, but the particular hotel we were looking for was right next to one of the biggest tourist stops in the city.  This is where we had asked to be taken.  Anyway, after about an hour of driving around, we get to the hotel.  Then comes the discussion of how much this crazy ride should cost.  I had been monitoring the meter and was ok with paying what it indicated was the fare, even with the useless driving around.  Then this guy tells me that the number on the meter isn't the fare, you pay that fare times a multiple.  Yeah, a multiple.  So this turns out to be a very expensive ride.  Much more than what it should have been (at least double, according to what our buddy at the airport had quoted before we left).  I tell this guy that I am going to ask the our hotel if it is the correct fare.  He is getting angry, but follows Chrissy and I up some stairs to our hotel.

*******While Bill is arguing, this is what is going on with Chrissy*******

While Bill is up front arguing with the cabbie, I am standing at the back of the cab having just removed our backpacks. It's 3 a.m. and I am really tired and I am quite nervous that we are standing on a deserted street with our non-trusty cab driver and a group of men headed our way. As is common in India, these guys approach the vehicle and have no qualms about staring at us. Finally, one starts talking to me. The conversation goes a bit like this:

Him: Hey, where are you from?

Me: Hi. America.

Him: I work around here.

Me: That's cool. What do you do?

Him: I sell drugs - cocaine, pot, lots of stuff.

Me, not knowing quite how to react, I give him a "thumbs up" and say: Awesome!

There's not much that you can really follow up on after that. I have to say, however, that I was impressed with this guy. He didn't give a hard sell at all, just laid out the facts. I guess you're either into it (drugs) or not and we aren't, so our conversation tapered off. To this guy's further credit, we passed him on the street two days later and he walked over and shook my hand.

****************************************************************

The hotel people of course say its a bogus fare, we argue some more.  I'll give him an "A" for persistance.  I start thinking about how much this is really costing, in terms of dollars, not rupees.  Chrissy and I have been traveling for over twelve hours at this point.  I give in and pay the little punk.  Chrissy tells him that he has just earned some bad karma.

The next morning we head out to do some sight seeing in Mumbai.  Our hotel is a short walk to the Gateway to India.

The Gateway to India

The gateway is Mumbai's most famous monument.  The arch was built to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary.  Unfortunately, they must have had a bad project manager because it was finished years after the actual visit. It was later the site where the British handed over India back to the Indians.  We spent all of about five minutes around the arch because you are constantly harrassed by touts that want to sell you a boat tour.  We bugged out and headed across the street to the Taj Mahal hotel.  This is a very plush hotel that was built by a rich Persian guy after he was denied entry into one of the British hotels.  We walked around for a bit and marveled at the fancy resturants and the huge English bookstore.  Too bad a magazine was like twenty-five bucks.

Next stop was the Victoria Train Terminus.  This train station is famous for it's architecture and has been designated as a World Heritage site.  We walked around the station for a bit, then caught a taxi back to our hotel.

The Victoria train terminus

Like I mentioned earlier, we are staying right near one of Mumbai's bigest tourist spots.  This happens to be a resturant called Leopold's.  Leopold's is famous for all the sketchy dealings that went on there in the 80's.  Drug deals, prostitutes, etc.  Very spicy stuff for India.  This was all made famous by a book called "Shantaram".  Chrissy is reading it.  I haven't had the chance because she is taking forever to finish it.  Anyway, Leopold's is now just a popular resturant/pub.  They have good food and a large beer and wine selection, something else that is hard to find in India.  Chrissy and I eat a late lunch there and pound down some beers. 

We do a bit of shopping after lunch and buy tickets for a movie that evening.  Then we head back to the hotel to rest and clean up prior to our night out.  On the way a man stops me and inquires if I would like to be in a Bollywood movie.  Chrissy and I had been hoping to score our way into a Bollywood film.  For those of you not in the know, here is the low down on Bollywood:

• largest film industry in the world in terms of number of films produced, and maybe also the number of tickets sold
• Bollywood budgets are usually modest by Hollywood standards
• Bollywood films are almost always musicals

I
The one and only, Bollywood. 

So this guy needs white dudes to act as Roman Soldiers in some big film.  I sign up to meet a van the next morning that will take me to the set for my film debut.  Unfortunately he doesn't need any women.  Chrissy is kind of bummed.  After changing and a quick nap we go to the theater.  The movie that we are seeing isn't a Bollywood movie, but it is about India (we flaked on seeing a Bollywood film because they are like four hours long and we wanted to see some of the Mumbai nightlife afterwards).  The movie was called "Namesake" and was really good, despite having the main character be the star of Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle.  It helped that we were in India at the time, but I think it would be a solid movie even if you didn't know a thing about India.  Highly Recommended.

After the movie we go next door to a bar.  Mumbai is famous for its nightlife, which is quite the scene by Indian standards.  It lived up to the hype.  Chrissy and I were in this place for hours.  We got fairly juiced up with a guy from England and an Indian dude that was also a Bollywood recruiter.  The recruiter guy actually had a commerical that Chrissy and I could be in together the next day, but I had already committed to the soldier thing so we politely declined.

The next morning we were moving a bit slow due to the festivities from the previous evening.  We get our stuff all packed up and then go downstairs to meet the Bollywood people.  We are supposed to meet them in front of the McDonalds which is down the street from our hotel. 

Here is a shot of the McDonald's menu.  No beef.

They aren't there and we wait around for a bit and then I call the guy's cell from a pay phone.  He answers and indicates that they are running a bit late but will be by to pick us up in a few minutes.  We sit on our bags and wait.  We are hauling all of our stuff to the movie set because after the shooting which should last all day, we are going directly to the airport for our flight to Australia.  Other westerners are milling about also waiting to be picked up by movie people.  Our guy eventually shows up and tells us that the shoot that day has been canceled.  Big bummer.  Now what?  We have all our stuff, are hung over, and have no hotel.  It is like 8AM.  Another movie recruiter guy is in the street in front of us picking up some girls for a different movie shoot.  I walk up and ask him if he needs anyone else.  He doesn't but says that we can come along just to see the set.  Cool.  Chrissy and I pile into the back of this car and soon are being driven through Mumbai off to a movie set of some sort.

We get to the movie set and it looks pretty much like you would expect.  Maybe not as glamorous, but like a movie set.  Chrissy and the girls with the actual job as extras are put in a womens dressing room while I am situated in a mens room.  There are about six other guys lounging around in this place.  We kind of sit and stare at each other for a while and then start chit chatting.  They are all actors.  This particular set is for the Indian version of a soap opera.  They called it a "daily".  These guys are full of good advice, like where to get the best hookers in Mumbai, etc.  Eventually they go off to do their shoot.  I get Chrissy and we follow to watch.  I am starting to get the feeling that the movie/tv business includes a lot of waiting around.  We get to the set and just sit around some more.  Chrissy and I eventually wander back outside to watch the girls that we came with do their shoot.  It was pretty crazy actually, we we able to go where ever we wanted in this place and their were at least two independent sets that I could see.

We watch the filming of the daily with the girls for a couple of hours.  I never did figure out the story.  These girls were Swedish and we supposed to be the jailors of some Indian girls for some reason.

 
Our Swedish friends on the set, and another picture of the action

It is really hot outside and after a few hours Chrissy and I are ready to leave.  Our flight is not for many hours but we are thinking we'll just hang out at the airport.  Maybe see if we can get into one of the first class lounges.  We take a rickshaw over to the airport which is actually close to the movie set.  We lug all of our stuff up to the terminal only to be greeted by a gun toting soldier that won't let us inside.  You can't enter the airport more than three hours prior to your flight.  Who has ever heard of a setup like that?  So now we are stuck with all of our crap and no where to go.  We go to another door and tell a small lie to the soldier there about our flight and he lets us in so that we can eat at the restaurant inside the terminal.  The plan is to get something to eat, kill time, and then wander through the terminal to where our flight is and hang out.  This plan doesn't work out.  We eat a crazy expensive meal and then find out that each section of the terminal is closed off from the others.  We are now in the airport, but not in the section for our airline.  These guys actually ID you on your way out of the airport.  We are kind of nervious, but after we finish eating just sort of wander out back past the soldier.  He stops us and we play dumb saying we went into this terminal by mistake.  The dumb tourist act works.

Now what.  We still have several hours till hour flight.  We take a rickshaw to a mall.  It's closed.  We take a taxi to another mall.  They make us go through metal dectors to get in, there is a crazy level of security.  Guards everywhere.  We spend the afternoon loitering in the food court.  To make matters worse, the ATM in the mall won't take our card.  So we are loitering without money in the mall, for hours.

Three hours before our flight is scheduled to leave, we catch a taxi back to the airport.  I don't have any money to even pay the guy, so make he drive us to an ATM.  It won't take our card either.  This is the only time we have had this problem in India.  All the ATMs are for local cards only, no international.  We end up going to five different ATMs before one works.  Meanwhile traffic has stacked up.  It takes forever to get to the airport.  We finally get there, the security line is crazy long.  We have forgotten some Australian visa formalities that must be taken care of at the airport.  After waiting all day for this flight, we almost miss it.

It has been a wonderful, wonderful, trip to India.  Nevermind our last day.  I do think that we will come back.  They say you either love or hate India.  We think that there is a lot to love.

- Bill

We were ready to make a hasty departure out of Agra and we promptly boarded a plane to Delhi and spent the night for a third time. The next morning, we got up and took a Jet Airways flight to Bagdogra, the city with the nearest airport to Darjeeling.

Darjeeling is one of India's famous hill stations. The hill stations are a throwback to the British rule and many were used for rest and relaxation for British soldiers and in some cases additional industry as well. Tea is the city's claim to fame and many consider it the best in the world.

The city sits in the northeast section of India and is very near to the border of Nepal. In fact, most of the people that live in Darjeeling are of Nepalese descent, direct descendants from some of the original tea pickers that crossed into India in search of work.

We got a taxi and started the 3.5 hour journey from the lowlands to the hills. The ride was beautiful. We passed verdant fields and made our way past monkeys sizing us up along the road. We had initially planned on taking the UNESCO World Heritage toy train up to Darjeeling but had second thoughts when the innkeeper at our hotel suggested that it may be more comfortable just to do a two hour ride around rather than spend eight hours on the train. When we eventually passed the train on the narrow road, we understood her point. While clean and nice, it didn't necessarily look too comfortable for a full day journey.

The Darjeeling Toy Train...we never did end up taking a ride on it

Our driver was clearly a local. We were mesmerized at how expertly he navigated all of the twists and the turns. This driving was not for the faint hearted. So many times I felt sure that we were about to go over a cliff or clip a car but as we continued I learned to have more faith in him. This guy could drive. Eventually, Bill and I settled into the ride and we laughed as we read the euphemisms painted on the walls along the ride. Signs warned drivers to pay heed to the dangerous curves with comments like "Hurry burry spoils the curry" and my personal favorite, "Enjoy the view. Don't commit suicide". Umm, OK.

We arrived at the Dekeling Hawk's Nest hotel. It's very rustic, but the 150-year old place has great charm and we were both excited to see that our room had two fireplaces - one in the family room and another in the bedroom. We settled into a nice Tibetan meal (if you like pot stickers, you'll love momos) delivered straight to our room and relaxed by the fire.

Our cozy room at the Dekeling Eagle's Nest

Darjeeling is a sleepy town and it's fun just to walk through the main chowrasta (town square) area and people watch. Most of the locals are Nepalese or Tibetan but their are also a lot of Indian and western tourists. We walked around the nice botanical garden (especially for you, Mom Trotter) and enjoyed looking at the hundreds of orchids (well, I did at least!).

Prayer flags along the pedestrian walkways, shrouded in the morning mist

We weaved our way through narrow streets down to the Happy Valley tea estate and got a personal adhoc tour from an employee there. The man told us that all of his family works there and that his children will too one day. The top two leaves and the bud of the tea bush are picked for the highest quality of tea. The bushes looked beautiful dotting the hillsides.

Happy Valley Tea Estate pickers

We had fun getting lost around town and walking out to the fabulous zoo. The zoo is extremely small but it has all of the animals indigenous to the area - red pandas, snow leopards, tigers, asiatic bears and monkeys. A lone red panda seemed intent on antagonizes the monkeys in the cage next to him. I figured it's about time those guys got a taste of their own medicine!

Near the back of the zoo, you can walk through to the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, founded by Tenzing Norgay sherpa. Tenzing, along with Sir Edmund Hillary, was the first person to summit Mt. Everest. The institute is impressive. Though small in size, the institute can lay claim to having nearly two dozen of its members having summitted the highest mountain in the world.

Monument to Tenzig Norgay, across from his grave marker

One morning, we went to Tiger Hill, a promontory where you can sometimes catch a glimpse of Mt. Kangchenjunga, India's highest peak and the third highest peak in the world. In fact, if you are extrememly lucky you can even catch a small glimpse of Everest in the distance. As the Trotter luck would have it, we saw neither. I knew that no good can come from getting up at 3 a.m.

I was really interested in buying handicrafts at the Tibetan Self-Help Refugee Center. Bill and I set out to find it and started walking...and walking...and walking. We finally got there and it was interesting to meet the refugees. The men and the women all have different crafts - the women spin yarn and make the most beautiful rugs, creating from memory. The men sew jackets and make leather goods. We really enjoyed our time walking around the centre and "talking" to people using a series of smiles and hand motions.

Ladies giggle and hide in embarassment as I take their picture. No worries, I promise that I asked before doing so

The evening before we were set out to leave, we headed into a store to buy some wine and cheese. Most of the world doesn't seem to be big on cheese so we were uber-excited to see a big cheddar cheese wheel. As we stood in line waiting to buy some, we started to talk to another guy in line. John is also from the US, but lives in Darjeeling. As we continued to talk, we walked outside and met his daughter and sister-in-law, Julia. Julia had just gotten accepted to a master's program and they were celebrating with some tequila. John invited us over and after some initial hesitation, we accepted.

We had a blast that evening meeting Krystal (John's wife), Parker (Julia's husband) and John's two beautiful kids. Talk about it being a small world. Krystal and Julia's mother lives in Kerrville near where Bill and I got married. We ended up staying for dinner and sharing the wine that we had bought and all partaking in a bit of tequila.

John told us that he is a consultant for the CHAI (Community Health and Advancement Initiative in India) project a joint venture between Tazo Tea, Mercy Corps and the Darjeeling Ladenla Road-Prerna, a development organization to promote a better way of life for the tea pickers in Darjeeling and Assam. These improvements come in the form of health, economic development and youth initiatives primarily.

His job sounded fascinating and as the night continued, John suggested that perhaps we extend our stay and go to the tea communities with one of his teams. As much as we enjoy spontaneity, this would require us changing some of our transportation logistics, etc. and we initially declined. But the more we talked about it, the more excited we became and we agreed to try and maneuver around our schedule the following day.

We were successful and two days later, we were headed out to the tea communities with one of John's teams: James, Subash and Mahendra. As Subash drove along the long and windy roads, James told us more about the region and the program. He informed us that the hill people around Darjeeling and Sikkim are predominately the Lepcha people, a mountain tribe. James told us how the CHAI project gets involved - if a village is interested in the project, the CHAI project will often add duties to the local samaj (the Nepali caste group that traditionally organizes funeral, weddings, birth, and other important events).

Our first stop was at a committee meeting in Pussimbing village. Despite the pelting rain, many villagers had arrived to attend the meeting. We sat proudly in the concrete and tin roof community hall that had been built just months before as one of the projects. As the team helped direct the meeting, we noticed that the committee members were very engaged and eager to come up with suggestions for the next youth project. Two ideas that were bounced around while were were there included a Pop Idol event that could be held with neighboring villages or to create a foot path. Eventually, the deafening rain and lack of quorum to vote brought the meeting to an end. Bill and I were both impressed with the professionalism and interest by everyone involved and were excited at the suggestions.

Committee meeting in the meeting house that the village recently built, Pussimbing

Our next stop was to Lepcha Goan vllage. We took a rest at a house near the river and were served homemade tea...mmm. Some of the women from the village asked if Bill and I would like to try some homemade beer (toomba) that evening. After being assured that it wouldn't be offensive for me as a female to drink, we both enthusiastically replied in the affirmative.

As the day turned to evening, all of the locals seemed to disappear. When I asked where everyone had gone, James informed me that the women had all gone to the kitchen to prepare a snack of popcorn and the homemade beer. Little did these women know, they are women after Bill's heart. Popcorn and beer are two of his favorite things in life!

We asked to go to the kitchen and we had so much fun sitting and hanging out with the women. Although we we did not speak the same language, we were all able to communicate using hand motions and smiles. They asked if I wanted to take a turn at heating the popcorn kernals over the fire and then laughed ferociously when I actually did it. Bill and I were amazed at how well an old tin can could be punctured and made into a popcorn maker.

Villager making popcorn out of an old tin container and a stick

Simultaneously, a younger girl was making the beer for us. The toomba was a mash of fermented maize steeped with hot water. As if the concept wasn't innovative enough, the presentation was even better. We were served in large bamboo glasses slightly larger than a hurricane globe with bamboo straws inside. The straws had a small hole in the bottom that allowed the beer to come up the straw but the mash to stay out of it. Ingenious!

Lepcha girl making maize beer, or toomba for us

We had so much fun in the kitchen that we ended up staying there for hours just drinking beer and eating bowls of popcorn. No worries, the beer had almost no alcohol content although we both could attest to a small buzz at the end. Afterwards, we headed up the hill via headlamps and flashlights to other houses in the village. We had an excellent meal of curried potatoes, rice, lentils (that were deliciously almost like borracho beans) and cauliflower.

Chong, one of the more senior villagers, had kindly invited us to stay with him family at their house. They were so thoughtful and all shared a room, giving Bill and I our own private room. The next morning we got up and two of the girls brought us chai tea. We had heard that Chong had some of the Lepcha's ancient scripture. We were very interested to see it and Chong kindly offered to show us it.

I am not sure what I expected to see, but I was humbled with what transpired. Chong walked into the room with a stack of thinly veiled cloth surrounding many books. Each book was made with handmade paper and was covered in rabbit and deer leather. These books looked like they belonged in museums. Chong could not tell us the date of the books because they are only labeled as being created in certain seasons, e.g., summer, spring, etc. To give you and idea of how old they might be, some were so old that it was prior to knowledge of binding. Instead, the books would be a long sheet of paper that was folded. Each page was written using an ink made of crushed forest mushrooms and a feather quill.

The room was very quiet save for Chong telling us the story and James kindly translating for us. But it was when we started talking about the contents of each book that Bill and I both became speechless.

Chong telling us about the Lepcha scripts as his family looks on

Chong carefully unwrapped each wrapped parcel and began to explain the contents of each book:

• Book of Revelation - predicts past, present, and future including the current demise of the their culture because the Lepchas did not protect their sacred mountain
• Book of Grammar - the vowels and consonants for reading and understanding the text
• Field guide to Animals and Plants - this book's purpose is to discuss the animals, plants and their uses, but is told in parable form and they cannot identify the actual names today 
• Book of Passing - this book is never read in the house and is kept well hidden from children. If a family member is terminally ill but is having difficulty passing on, then a designated family member reads a passage from the book and according to legend, the people will almost immediately pass upon hearing the text
• Book of Death - once a person dies, a designated family member goes out to an open field and analyzes information about the person's life (I think that this is astrologically based). After analyzing this information and repeating some scripture, the spirit is at peace and will not disturb the village.
• Book of Conduct - Offers ways to live your life, similar to the Bible and living by the Golden Rule
• Book of Women - offers advice for how to act and live, etc.

Bill and I were particuarly amazed by the Book of Revelations. Chong told us of the responsibility that his people (the Lepchas) had been given. Originally animists (worships nature), many now have converted to Hinduism or Buddhism. But the ancestors were told that they must respect and protect the mountain at all costs. They are a peaceful people and have not done that. This book has accurately predicted that such neglect will be the demise of the Lepcha culture. People continue to attempt to scale the mountain despite protests of the Lepcha people and sadly, the prophecy is holding true.

A close-up of the Lepcha text

The Lepchas believe that these sacred texts were originally big slabs of stone that fell from the sacred mountain and landed near the river. The Lepcha ancestors transcribed it for future generations. Today, it passes from one generation to the next through each family. Chong is currently transcribing texts from other village families' texts, ones that are missing from his family's own library. Each text is carefully preserved in a piece of cloth that is wrapped around the sacred text. Bill and I both worried that the humidity and our hands touching the handmade paper would ruin it forever.

One of the older scriptures. This one was made before the Lepchas knew how to bind

We both felt very lucky to see these sacred texts. The Lepcha's scripture says that not just anyone can see these. This precious visit continues to be a highlight of our trip.

After talking with Chong, we took a walk around the village. Our first stop was at the one room schoolhouse for the smaller children. We had bought candy on our way to the village and Bill and I met the children and then handed out the sweets. Their eyes lit up like Christmas trees. We started taking pictures and the kids had never seen a camera before and they didn't know what to do. It's amazing what a quick lesson can do. Once they got the hang of it, they loved having their picture taken and we ended up being chased for pictures the rest of the morning!

Bill and I taking a picture with the class (me in front and Bill in the backrow)

We met up with the village committee members and began to walk around to houses, checking on the progress of the latrines that are currently being built. The village has just built their first latrine and is continuing to build over a dozen more. It was fun to see the villagers proudly show off the holes that they had dug with their family and friends. As we walked by one house, we were told that the man standing there was blind and was very proud of the small shop that he owned. I asked him if I could take his picture and he took off running. I looked at the crowd of people and then at James, afraid that I had offended the man. "No," James said laughing, "he ran inside to get his sweater vest so that he'll look nice for the camera". We assured him that he looked great and he didn't need the sweater.

Blind villager in front of his shop

Villager, Lepcha village

As John had predicted, we didn't want to go and were sad to leave. As we started to walk towards the car, the line behind us on the small footpath continued to grow. The villagers all walked us to our car, a 20 minute hike away!

We left humbled and happy, but mostly thankful. This experience alone is why we love to travel and it's something that cannot be fabricated nor duplicated. A lifetime of working will never bring the understanding and peace of mind that one incredible travel experience can bring. We vowed to return to the village and we sincerely hope to do so one day.

***Update***
Shortly after we left, we received an email from James, our wonderful guide and team leader from the CHAI project. He gave us an update on the latrine project:

"Remember the latrine pits we monitored there... almost 70% is complete. We supplied the villagers with construction materials on 26th April'07. It was a huge logistical challenge as usual, but, everything worked out well. Even
the weather favoured. Though they had to carry all the materials (cement, pipes, steel rods, pans, etc.) as headload all the way to their village, they were as energetic and enthusiastic till the evening."

How cool!

- Chrissy

We get into the Agra station at 9PM and hire yet another auto-rickshaw dude to drive us to the Sheraton.  Yes, we are staying in a Sheraton.  Agra is tourist city and using some hotel points for a free hotel stay sounded like a good plan.  We still have some of these from our business travel back home and have been making good use of them at key points in our journey.  The drivers name is Muskeen and he seems like a cool dude so we hire on for him to take us to the Taj Mahal the next day.  We are tired and are looking forward to a comfy Sheraton bed.  We eat a crazy expensive Chinese dinner at the hotel.  It is good but pricey, even by US standards.

The next day we get up relatively early and start working on some travel logistics before heading out to see the sites.  Our next stop is the city of Varanasi which isn't a direct hop on any of the available travel options (plane, train, etc) from Agra.  The fancy travel desk at the Sheraton is zero help.  They can only book expensive air flights and really pricey car service.  We call up Muskeen and have him pick us up and take us to an Internet cafe.  We are successful in getting an airplane ticket on one of the discount carriers booked from Delhi to Varanasi.  Now all we need to do is get to Delhi from Agra.  Muskeen is there to help.  He takes us to a travel office where they can book train tickets.  This place is pretty shady.  I am skeptical but we want to get this done and get on with seeing the sites.  We fork over some cash, get a receipt and head out.  This travel place basically pays somebody to go down to the train station and buy the tickets for you.  We know we are paying a premium for this, especially when you factor in that Muskeen gets a commission.  Still beats Sheraton prices.

We get this all done and Muskeen takes us to the Agra Fort.  This is a huge fort complex close to the Taj Mahal.  Agra is crawling with touts.  We were expecting this, but it is still really annoying.  "Hello, but a coke?",  "Hello, postcards?", "Hello, need tour guide?"  This happens everywhere.  The Agra Fort is an impressive example of Mughal architecture.  If that means anything to you.  Here is a photo.

The Agra Fort

And a few facts:

• 2km northwest of Taj Mahal
• Constructed by the Mughals during 1565-1571
• Walls rise 69 ft in height
• Whole thing is surrounded by a large moat

We get our fist glimpse of the Taj Mahal while touring the fort.  It looks amazing.  Muskeen drops us at a nice restaurant for lunch and we let him talk us into going to some marble inlay store.  He finally admits that if he takes us there the store gives him some free gas for his rickshaw.  This whole system if very annoying.  Looking back we should have just asked him how much we needed to pay him so we didn't need to hear about any of this stuff.  The marble stuff was pretty cool though.  We watched them grinding down some pieces.  They had these amazing tables.  Too bad the one we liked was ten thousand dollars.  I'm not kidding.

The stone on Chrissy's forehead is marble ground into shape by the marble inlay guys

We finally get out of the marble shop and make it over to the Taj.  Muskeen drops us off and will pick us up after the sun sets.  The line to get into the Taj is nuts.  The foreigner admission price Taj is 750 rupees, this is compared to the Indian price of 75 rupees.  I understand a mark-up but adding a zero on the end seems a bit much.  One thing this does get us is "free" bottles of water, "free" paper booties to wear over our shoes while in the Taj (locals have to take their shoes off and walk on the hot marble tiles), and a "free" tour guide.  The tour guide did push he way through the long line for us.  We went right to the front.  Even with the price hike you feel funny doing this, but what can you do.

You can't see the Taj when you are walking up to it.  There is a big wall and gate that blocks you view.  Then you go through this gate and are presented with what Chrissy and I both agree is the most beautiful building in the world.  It really makes you almost start crying (I think Chrissy did tear up).  We haven't felt this way about anything else we have seen.  Not the Pyramids, not Machu Picchu, not anything.  The place is stunning.  Pictures don't do it justice.

This is the gate that leads into the garden surrounding the Taj Mahal 

You have to fight to take a photo in front of the Taj Mahal.  It is a beautiful building. 

Here are some facts about the Taj Mahal:

• Is a really large tomb Shah Jahan built for his deceased wife (his favorite of a few wife's, lucky dude)
• Constructed from 1631 and 1648
• Made of white marble and covered with intricate marble in-lays
• The four minarets, set symmetrically about the tomb, are scaled down to heighten the effect of the dominant, slightly bulbous dome.
• There are two mosques built on either side of the mausoleum, only the one on the left can be used because it faces Mecca.  The other one is there for balance

Yes, I did copy some of the above from various web sites.  Read more here.

The whole story of the Shah Jahan is pretty crazy.  He had an evil son who wanted to rule so he killed his three brothers and put his dad into prison (after the Taj was already built).  Shah Jahan's prison was the Agra Fort so he got to look at a view of the Taj as he sat in prison the rest of his life.  The Shah had wanted to build his own mausoleum across the river from his wife's but the bad son stopped this project.  The Shah's would have been out of black marble.  They ended up burying the Shah with his wife in what would have been just her tomb.  His other wives get much much smaller tombs nearby.

We spend quite a bit of time at the Taj Mahal.  Our guide takes various photos of us and we take a ton ourselves.  We look into both mosques and walk completely around the mausoleum.  We eventually give the guide a hefty tip and head back to where Muskeen is supposed to pick us up.  We are early and he is late as he went home to eat.  We spend the time chatting with a nice guy who sells chai tea from a street stall.  Muskeen eventually picks us up and takes us back to the travel office place where our train tickets should be waiting.  They aren't there yet and we spend over an hour chatting with the guy who runs the place.  Very shady.  He brings up the idea of us taking some gems for him to Australia (where we are headed next).  This is a classic scam.  Some guy tells you that you can save him a bunch of money in export taxes if you carry some gems for him out of the country.  You are supposedly given thousands of dollars worth of gems for which you put a deposit down on your credit card.  Someone is supposed to meet you in your destination country to take the gems off of you and then give you a hefty payment for your trouble.  What really happens is the "gems" you are given are worthless and then they charge your credit card for a few thousand dollars and you never hear from them again.  Throw "India gem scam" into google and you can read countless accounts of people getting ripped off.  Anyways, Chrissy and I can't believe this guy is actually talking to us about this.  Now we are really concerned that our train tickets are bogus.  We wait and wait for some guy to show up with the tickets.  He finally gets there and I examine the tickets.  They look legit except they have "wait list" printed on them as the status.  The also don't have our names or any names and the passengers and the seats have been written in by hand.  Uh-Oh.  Chrissy and I are getting really pissed.  We are supposed to leave early in the morning and it appears that we don't have seats for a train that we have already over-paid to get tickets for.  We basically explode on this travel guy and demand to be taken to the train station to validate our tickets.  He says over and over that they are ok.  We are very angry with Muskeen for taking us to this crappy place.  We get back into the rickshaw and he starts driving us to the train station.  On the way there he says that the ticket counter is closed (of course, it is really late by now) and takes us to another branch of the travel office.  This place looks a little better than the first office and the guy looks up our tickets on a computer and says that they are good.  We aren't convinced of anything and go as far as to tell a bunch of people sitting in the office not to buy anything from these guys.  We are literally shouting in their office.  More angry words with Muskeen as we tell him just to take us back to our hotel.  Chrissy tells him that she is very disappointed in him. 

We get back to the Sheraton, and being the upscale foreigner hotel that it is, won't even let rickshaw drivers anywhere near the hotel.  The hotel has these big mean looking guards that stand at the front gate of the drive leading up to the hotel to stop any non-hotel approved cars from getting through.  Muskeen pulls up in front of the gate and Chrissy gets out and walks up the drive into the hotel.  I get out and give Muskeen some cash and tell him that I would have paid him double that if he hadn't taken us to so many crappy places so that he could get a commission.  He is pleading with me saying that he will drive us to the train station in the morning to ensure that everything is ok.  That he will walk us onto the train and if there is anything amiss that I don't have to pay him at all.  I tell him to forget it and not to come to the hotel in the morning.  I walk away and he starts to get out of his rickshaw.  The hotel bouncer who has been attentively watching this whole exchange steps between me and Muskeen and just stands there.  Muskeen shakes his head and drives off.  Chrissy and I go to the hotel bar for much deserved beers.

I arrange a pricey hotel car to take us to the train station in the morning (5 AM type morning).  I am half expecting to see Muskeen at the station regardless of what I told him the night before.  He isn't there.  We hire a porter dude to carry our stuff on the train.  This is usually a good idea in India.  The guy will find the train for you and do all the necessary pushing and shoving.  The porter guy rips me off (I think I paid ten times what should be the price), but this is still only like two dollars.  Our train car is empty.  No one is in the seat numbers that are written on our possibly phony tickets.  We settle into our seats and the train leaves.  Chrissy and I let out a sigh of relief, so far so good.  Then the train pulls into another station less than an hour from where we got on and people pile in.  The car is soon full with way more people than there are seats.  People are standing in the aisle.  Chrissy and I hang tight in our seats, sure that we are about to get tossed out of them.  The ticket guy comes around.  I hand him our tickets and he checks some things off on his clipboard.  We are good.  No one is demanding our seats.  The tickets appear to be legit.  We start to think back to the scene we made in the travel office and the way we treated Muskeen.  Oops.  We are mean people.  We feel bad all the way to Delhi.

We spend a quick night in Delhi, back at the same guesthouse where we had stayed the last time we were in town.  The next morning we fly out to Varanasi, the holiest city in India.

- Bill

Leaving Jaisalmer, we hired a private car to drive us to Udaipur. Car hire around India is relatively inexpensive and can be a good way to get from point A to point B quickly with moderate expense and low hassle.

En route, we stopped at the Ranakapur Jain temples. The Jain religion is very fascinating; Jains are strict vegetarians and go out of their way to avoid eating animals and insects. A couple of examples - many sweep their pathway prior to stepping so that no bug is stepped on and prior to eating some also pour water around the perimeter of their plate to avoid an ant or other creature from stepping onto the plate. Like I said, these folks are strict.

The temple has been run by the same three families for 17 generations and the man that walked us around is next in line for the high priest position after his father. We were very impressed at the intricacy of the pillar carvings. This temple is constructed almost entirely of pillars and their are thought to be more than 1,400. Word on the street is that no one knows the actual number because every count comes up with a different number. Bill and I thought to recommend inviting 1,500 of our closest friends to all pick a pillar and settle the question, but we decided the Jains may not appreciate our solution.

A view from the inside of Ranakpur Temple

The beauty of the temple is undeniable and the construction was impressive. One pillar purposely bows out symbolizing that man is imperfect and cannot construct anything to absolute perfection. I noticed that in all Jain temples there are a couple of funny looking creatures at the entrance. The holy man explained to me that the figures are of demons. People are supposed to step on them on the way inside the temple to signify that they are leaving their troubles at the door. On the way out, their mind is pure and there is a lone platform between the two demons to step on.

Walking around the complex, we saw two langurs sitting on a wall. I started to take their picture as they continued to make noise to me. I thought this was all in good fun until one ran past me and gave me a major evil eye. As I continued to take pictures (because I learn lessons so well), the one that had run away started getting REALLY mad that I was taking pictures of his friend and seemed poise to attack. It was time to flee the scene and we did but not before noticing that there were dozens on a nearby roof.

One of our langur "friends"

Arriving at Udaipur, we booked a lovely room at Kankarwa Haveli. We were fortunate to get a discounted room overlooking the water. We had a beautiful room, bathroom and another room with a large mattress and big pillows on the floor for lounging. A small balcony with pillows enabled us to sit outside each night and enjoy nightly fireworks from the palace hotel.

A beautiful painting on our wall in the Kenkarwa Haveli

The city itself is often compared with Venice or other romantic cities situated on water. The lake is the main attraction and the Udaipur Palace is the showpiece. The hotel encompasses an entire island with it's foundation lining the end of the land so that when the water is at a normal or high level, the hotel looks like it is floating. We’d been traveling around Rajasthan for a while, however, and we were getting tired of temples, palaces and havelis. I know, I know. Poor us. We decided to use our time in Udaipur, reputedly the most romantic city in India, and catch up on journal entries. Yes, we love you guys. As you can see from the discrepancy between the date in the title from when we were actually in Udaipur to the date of publishing this entry...we could use all the time we can get get to catch up. *Sigh*

A view of the Udaipur lake palace as seen from the rooftop at our hotel

The city was lovely but there were tons of scheisters. We’d been around India long enough to know one when we saw one and there were a couple stationed right in front of our hotel. Like two different guys that just happened to be going to Taos, New Mexico the following week after we mentioned we were from the U.S. We later bought post cards (most of which never got mailed) and were warned by the shopkeeper to watch out for the Kashmir seller that always says he’s going to Taos. I have to give the guy props though for picking a rather obscure place. A less creative people would choose New York or LA.

We spent a good portion of an afternoon touring around the Royal Palace. There was no formal or audio tour and much of the design was gaudy, save for an exquisite room with eighteen century trompe d’oeils and a beautiful mirrored balcony. We enjoyed meeting a very nice Indian family that was also on vacation that wanted their daughter to meet and talk to me about college,  etc. They were very kind and we took some pictures with them.

That evening we went to Amet Haveli and had dinner at their restaurant, Ambrai. The food was incredible. I mean INCREDIBLE. We had chicken tangey and tikka. Both were wonderful though the waiters were politely worried that we were ordering too much dry food and needed to add a curry.

A work elephant returning home with its owner after a hard day

Since we arrived in India, I have been mesmerized by the saris. The women’s dresses are so amazing and each one is even more beautiful than the next. It's astonishing to me that one piece of cloth can be folded to create such a beautifully complex outfit. I simply love them. The only problem is that I have no confidence that I could pull wearing one off.

I decided to compromise and get a salwar (aka punjabi) suit. A salwar is a long tunic with pants underneath and a scarf slung over the shoulders. I don't personally think that they are as graceful as the sari, but at least it would prevent me from a wardrobe malfunction.

Our buddy at the Internet shop told me where to go to get one made without getting overcharged. Bill and I walked down the fabric street and went into a store that sold saris. Keep in mind that I have no idea what I am doing. Through a series of charades and smiles, the shopkeeper, Bill and I all found a piece of material that we all liked. I had seen many Rajasthani women wearing dyed clothing with circles on them and apparently the style is known as tunnery, the signature style of Rajasthan. I selected a nice chiffon piece.

After settling on a price, we bought the fabric. Despite the shopkeeper repeatedly indicating that pants could be made out of the material, it later became apparent that would not work. I think that we were just miscommunicating though and it wasn't a big deal. He did kindly take me over to a tailor where a man and his son measured me and asked me all sorts of questions about what I wanted.

Apparently Indian men are not used to indecisive women because I had no idea what I wanted and I kept requesting whatever an Indian woman would wear and they basically informed me that Indian women want all sorts of things but they (the men) don't dictate it. Finally, they humored me and helped me with some decisions - e.g., neck style, lengh, lining, pattai (shawl) length. In any case, the men were very nice and were full of smiles and laughter. Eventually, we all got it worked out.

Joking aound with the tailors in Udaipur

Afterwards, the man that we bought cloth from invited us back to his shop for chai tea. It is very common to offer clients tea during or after a sale. The tea is yummy and is surprisingly good on a hot day. We learned as we traveled throughout India that drinking hot liquid actually helps your body temperature regulate. Who knew? Not us.

Bill and I later stopped by to pick up my outfit well half of it; no pants yet - and then returned to Ambrai for dinner. More Tangdi chicken and some Malai chicken and were were full and ready to go on a train to Jaipur.

- Chrissy