Delhi, India

My week in Dharamsala was very relaxing. The mountains are absolutely breathtaking, but to be honest, there weren't that many amazing views because there are so many huge mountains blocking the others. I did hike about 9km up to Triund Village one day, which put me on a ridge well above McLeod Ganj, and I was able to see more of the Himalayas. For those of you in Colorado, imagine sitting at the base of Breckenridge or Vail and looking at all the mountains- those would just be the foot hills here, and beyond that are just huge granite walls that form jagged peaks, dusted with a little snow. Very impressive- my few pictures won't even do justice, and unfortunately the peaks were shrouded in some clouds during my hike. The hike just followed a rocky trail covered with dead leaves from last Fall, no wildlife other than a few birds and some monkeys at the lower elevation. I met a young California couple at the top of the pass and had fun chatting all the way back down to McLeod Ganj. They have been traveling since October and it was fun to hear all of their crazy stories and experiences, and of course they told me the one thing that EVERYONE I meet tells me..."Wow, you are the first person we've met who is traveling solo in India." hahahaha, that makes me laugh, it's really no big deal. But then yesterday at dinner I shared a table with an old Indian man who said I was courageous traveling by myself here. So, even the locals think I'm crazy. Anyway, back in McLeod Ganj, I mostly passed the days walking around, taking pictures, little bit of jewlery shopping, visited the Dalai Lama's temple/residence, took a cooking course where I learned how to make Tibetan momos (dumplings), and that's about it. Even though I was at a higher elevation, Dharamsala wasn't nearly as cold as Amritsar, so staying warm wasn't too hard....the days were warm and the nights chilly. The locals said that it has been a mild winter, and that there would normally be snow on the ground in January.
I arrived in Delhi a couple days ago after a 12 hour twisty-turny, overnight bus ride out of the mountains. Delhi is in-your-face. It is a big city, but different from the others I have been to. I didn't get any sleep on the bus ride from Dharamsala, so I was tired and cranky when I finally stepped out of my hotel to explore. I headed to the tourist area and just kept getting pestered over and over and over by Indian guys. It all starts out exactly the same- "How do you like India" and then "Where are you from?" and eventually "let's get coffee and chat." I was so aggravated by it and I just had some things I needed to do and a couple things to buy and some stores to find. I feel bad sometimes, but I am getting to the point where I just have be mean and ignore everyone. Two months of traveling, just as it was last year, is kind of a point where I become increasingly less patient with cultural differences and I try very hard to just go to my happy place when I need to. Like last night at the movie theater my bag got searched more thoroughly than it has at any airport or other major security checkpoint in the world, which is fine because it is for safety reasons, but then the lady dropped my extra camera lens and spilled a bottle of water all over my guidebook. And then as I am waiting in line to get a ticket these guys just step right in front of me. How come I am invisible NOW and not out on the street being bothered all day. The waiting in line thing is hard because back in America it is sooooo not ok to cut in line and no one would ever get away with it, so when it happens here I am kind of dumbfounded. But then I just try to remember that I am in a different country and I politely step back where I was in line. Besides, Vietnam was way worse about queueing and waiting turns, so I shouldn't even complain about India. Delhi is warm enough to just wear a t-shirt during the day and it is busy, busy, busy. There is so much going on, so many shops and stalls and traffic. Hotels here in India are funny because they are such a nice little haven- my friend Lucas posted a picture on his blog last year when he was in India that makes so much sense to me now. It was of the threshold between the hotel front door and the street outside and the huge contrast between the two. When I walk out the door here in Delhi, I feel like a soldier stepping up to the front line. I go from a quiet little tiled lobby to chaos and mayhem and obstacles...first step over the filthy man sleeping on the ground with plastic bags wrapped around his feet for shoes, then dodge the ox pulling a wooden cart stacked a story high with bags of grain, blow off the tout who wants to sell me a package trip to the Taj Mahal, which is 2 hours away, jump over a puddle of urine/water/mud/trash, wait 10 minutes to cross the street that is clogged with a million scooters, rickshaws, bikes and cars, wave to a bus of schoolchildren, wince as a work truck blasts its horn as it pulls up to a rare stoplight, where traffic has actually stopped....Last night on my walk back to the hotel I was waiting on the median to cross a road when a beggar approached me, one arm slung over a crutch and the other stretched out toward me, hand cupped, asking for money. I didn't think much of him as I have seen many beggars in the bigger cities over the last 2 months, but then I looked down at his one leg and noticed that much of his lower calf was gone on the backside. I don't mean like an old, healed-over wound, he had the biggest, open, gaping wound I have ever seen and he was just hobbling around without a care in the world. I couldn't stop looking at it even though it was bad enough to make my stomach churn, I honestly think I saw bone, but I have no idea if that is possible? So far in India I have seen burn victims and many disfigured people with elbows and knees where elbows and knees should not be, but this guy with a bloody chunk of leg missing was hard to take. And he was the first beggar that I decided to give money to.
Anyway, it is time to head back out to the crazy streets and see what I can see. Tomorrow I am taking a vacation--flying down to Goa where the beach is. I was there for about a week in early December, and I wouldn't call it REAL India, but it will be a nice respite from the staring and traffic and cold nights...

new pictures

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=153799&id=652841026&l=bc7f6936e9

McLeod Ganj/Dharamsala, India

Dharamsala sounds like trucks climbing the hills in first gear and a rhythmic, scratchy sweeping as local women tidy the steep alleys with straw-bundled brooms. It sounds like school children singing in the morning just down the stone steps below my guesthouse and packs of dogs barking at night until I fall asleep. It sounds like "namaste" and Indian men asking me to look in their jewelry shop. Hindi, Tibetan and English conversations.
Sometimes it sounds quiet, or of peaceful noises like the constant mantra recording coming from the temple, "Om Mani Padme Om...Om Mani Padme Om.."
It smells like woodsmoke from a hundred cook fires burning in villages across the valley, incense and spices, and of fresh mountain air.
Dharamsala looks like maroon-robed monks, down-clad Westerners, old Tibetan refugees with toothless grins and their hipster grandchildren. It looks like Himalayan mountains, layers of massive, terraced foothills and then sharp, craggy peaks that look like knives rising into the low clouds behind them. It looks like a million prayer flags strung between trees, "Free Tibet" insignia, posters announcing peace, freedom, yoga classes, reiki workshops and cooking courses. It looks like a few beggars, bright sunshine, litter in the gulches, dilapidated buildings and rosy cheeks after the sun sets.
It is welcoming, always an offering of tea. I think it is a place where people come and stay for a long time.

McLeodganj, India (near Dharamsala)

I'm home. It was nice knowing all of you. If you need me, you can find me in the Himalayas.
Love, Emily

Amritsar, India

Two blog days in a row- don't get too use to this, I just wanted to get caught up before I head to the land o' Dalai Lama. I've had a few questions from people asking if communicating has been difficult here, and I just wanted to say that most everyone speaks at least a little bit of English, especially in the touristy towns, so no, there hasn't been much of a language barrier. Sometimes the Indian accent is hard to understand, but with a little body language and the use of hand gestures, I can usually figure out what is being said. Back in Jaisalmer there was an older guy standing outside of his shop and he motioned me over to show me something. His English wasn't great and my Hindi is non-existent, so there was a little trouble understanding what he wanted to show me. He was holding an x-ray up to the sun and kept pointing at it, so I was like, "ohh, did you break a bone?" And I keep looking and trying to get him to tell me what happened, and he starts pointing to the x-ray again laughing. I'm still not getting it, so I look a little more closely, make some comments like "wow, look at those ribs, you really should eat some more sandwiches, hahaha," but not sure if he got any of that. Finally, some of his buddies come over with their mini mugs of chai and point PAST the x-ray, right at the sun, and so I finally figured it out- he handed me the x-ray and I got to see a gorgeous partial eclipse. I think the whole episode of figuring that out took 10 minutes, but it was worth it. And it was so funny because once they realized that I knew they were showing me the eclipse they got all excited and starting clapping. That has happened before and I have to say, I love being applauded for such simples achievements. feels great. Not as great as my new nickname up here in the northern states, though. When anyone up here asks me where I am from and I say "America" they say, "ohhhh Miss America." Obviously, this is not a reference to the pageant for them, but whatever, I'm still Miss America. And I really felt like Miss America the other day in Jodhpur because there was some sort of holiday on Sunday, I have no idea which one, but everyone was dressed up and babies and kids had thick black eyeliner on their lower eyelids and there was a huge parade. The parade looked like any parade back home with horses and decorated floats and people walking down the road playing drums and other instruments, and I was just in a rickshaw trying to get to the bus station when we ended up in the parade for a couple minutes. I wasn't sure if I should start waving or not, but before it got too awkward we made a turn and headed away from the party. So, anyway, now I am in Amritsar, which was a 12 hour overnight bus ride from Bikaner. Got dumped into a strange town at 530am, still dark out and COLD and misty. This is where a little trust has to happen because I have no idea where I am and I have to rely on whoever happens to be offering a ride to take me to some random hotel. There were only a couple old guys with their bicycle rickshaws where the bus stopped, so I just picked one and he safely delivered me to a great hotel called, "Tourist Guest House." Very creative. And, no it really isn't great. I love showing up in a new town in the dark, it is kind of mysterious that way and then after I take a couple hours nap, I get to go explore in some daylight. There are really only 2 things to see in Amritsar. The main sight is the Golden Temple. This temple is considered to be the holiest shrine and most significant place of worship for Sikhs. Go here if you want to learn more about Sikhism, cause I really don't want to write about it... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sikhs
I kind of wish I had a book or guide at the temple because I had NO idea what was going on, I just kind of wandered around and did what I was told. First of all, no shoes. There are kiosks all over where you can leave your shoes safely and claim them later. So, I'm barefoot and start to enter the first open, marble archway leading to the temple area and I have to walk through a pool of warm, shallow water to cleanse the feet. Then I am turned around by a guard because I have to cover my hair. So, I go back to the main entrance and grab one of the orange "loaner" scarves to wrap around my head. The actual golden temple is absolutely beautiful, but so is the whole marble structure around it, with several clock towers. I could tell right away this was a very holy place and Sikhs were very serious about being there. I have run into lots of tourists who visited the temple, but yesterday I was the only foreigner I saw- which got me lots of stares and some people even kind of laughed at me. I just observed for awhile, watched everyone kneel at the entrance, say prayers. Then I walked around the man-made lake toward the walkway that leads to the temple, which is in the middle of the water. I had to wait in a long line to get in, and this is where some people were laughing at me, probably because it is obvious I am not a Sikh and I happened to be the only white person in line. But I tell you what, there is no way I am just going to LOOK at the side of a golden temple, I have to go in and check it all out. Inside was small, there was a roped off area where people tossed some money and it looked like everyone was paying respect to a really fancy carpet, but I later found out there was a small casket under the blanket-carpet thing that holds the Sikh guru Sri Guru Granth Sahib Ji. Everyone had these little dried leaves in their hands as some kind of offering, but I never saw what they did with them. Worst part of the temple- NO photography inside. It almost killed me. There were some holy men sitting in the corners with their turbans, there were boys shining the silver doors at the staircases and there were 2 more levels that looked down on the first level with the casket. Some worshipers were crying and on the first floor there were 4 men playing instruments and saying sing-song type prayers and chants, which is heard over loud speakers throughout the whole area outside. I hung around for a bit and then exited down the long walkway across the water where a guy with a big bowl stood at the end. I wasn't sure what he was doing, but as I walked past he motioned me to come back and then scooped a brown ball of mush into my hands. Back to the whole language barrier thing- sometimes when I don't know what to do and can't ask, I just wait to see what everyone else is doing. And everyone else was eating the brown mush ball. I figured it couldn't kill me, so I ate it and it tasted like sweet cream of wheat. Actually, it was so tasty I wondered if he would give me a whole bowl for lunch, but decided that might not be appropriate behavior. I did a little more walking around, posed with some people who wanted my picture and then that was about it. Gorgeous temple, though. I really had fun just people-watching. The other thing to do in Amritsar is go watch the closing ceremony/changing of guards at the India-Pakistan border. It is basically a face off between soldiers on each side who strut their stuff in their funny uniforms and red mohawk hats with lots of cheering from the India side. There are stands on each side of the border gate where people sit and cheer, one section was just for foreigners, although there weren't too many of us. The soldiers march toward the gate, the flags are lowered, there are more things yelled in Hindi and the Indian crowd was chanting "Hindustan" and cheering. Pakistan, on the other hand, needs a new cheer leading coach. There were only a handful of people on their side, only one flag being waved, and no one was really cheering. Anyway, it ends when a huge bus travels from the India side, through the gate and over to Pakistan. This is the Delhi-Lahore bus and kind of signifies unity between the countries even though there has always been some tension. It all lasted about 40 minutes and was actually very interesting to attend. I don't know why, but for some reason after the event I couldn't get through the crowd without every other group of young guys asking me to be in a group picture. Maybe it was because most participants here are Indian tourists and came from a place where there aren't many tourists or blondes? I wasn't in the mood and sometimes it just feels weird to be in strangers' photos, so Miss America declined all photo requests today. Ok, I think that is about all from Amritsar. Headed to Dharamsala tomorrow....

Jodhpur and Bikaner, India

Emily found winter. As I am typing this I am wearing wool socks, hiking shoes, wool long underwear, knit pants, a fleece, a down sweater, jacket, winter hat and if I could type with gloves on I would be doing so. Oh, and there is no heat in this part of the world- silly of you to think that. So, when I go back to my room here in a bit I will keep all of these clothes on until I am ready to get into my down sleeping bag and then I will pull it completely over my head and dream warm dreams. But before I write about Amritsar and northern India I should probably follow up the last several days. The camel safari never happened and I'm not completely sure why. I booked it with the guesthouse where I was staying in Jaisalmer and was all ready to go when they randomly postponed it a day for no real good reason. I'm in no hurry, so that wasn't a problem, I was under the impression that the "German couple" wasn't able to go that day and we needed to wait. Well, I was up at 7am and all packed and ready to go the day of the trip, headed down to the office area a half hour before we were supposed to leave and the guy looked at me and said that everyone already left. I told him I was a half hour early and he said no, no the safari was at 8am. This was all too fishy especially since the guesthouse is really small and has thin walls and I heard nobody at all that morning even though I'd been up since 7am. Plus there is this thing called "Indian time" where nothing happens on-time and certainly never earlier, so it didn't make sense. I am wondering if maybe there never was another couple going, or another group for me to be with. I do know that I made the mistake of hanging out for half a day shopping inside the fort with the guesthouse owner's 22 year old (unmarried) brother. Sometimes being nice and being a female traveling solo is a bad idea because he dang near proposed marriage by the end of the day and his uncle made some sort of comment along the lines of, "if no group for safari, you go with my nephew. good man." hahahahaha. I made it clear that I would only go with a tourist group...I guess I will never know if they were giving me BS so I would end up going into the desert with the kid, which would make me want to marry him, have 8 Indian babies and spend the rest of my life cooking rice and dal, sweeping the floors of my hut, fetching diseased water from the local canal, and sleeping on a rock-hard bed. I wasn't willing to stick around for another day, even if to book a safari with another company, so I got my money back, grabbed my bags and hopped on a bus for Jodhpur. Yes, I have already been to Jodhpur, but I wanted to go back because there was a little shopping to do and that town had some great shops. The bus was nicer this time and I was really enjoying the view until the kid in the seat in front of mine started barfing out the window and all of it blew onto my window. So much for that view, but I didn't care because all I know is if he hadn't stuck his head as far out the window as he did, all that barf probably would have landed on me since the draft blowing in was so strong. I got my shopping in Jodhpur done the same day with plans to mail the parcel the next day before heading to Bikaner by bus. And the next day was Sunday. dang it- I never know what day it is anymore, and the post offices are closed on Sundays here, just like home. I still needed to get my bundle packaged- even a task like that is so very different here. I took my souvenirs back to the store where I made the purchase and they stuffed it all in a plastic bag for me. Then they brought me some chai while I waited for the tailor to come over from across the alley. He runs in all barefoot and wraps the bundle in twine then takes some measurements and runs back out of the store. A few minutes later he comes back with a white cloth bag that he just made and as I sit drinking my tea I watch as 4 grown men try to shove the bundle into the cloth bag. It took like 15 minutes, then the tailor took some string and sewed the top shut and then he sewed all of the corner flaps down. wow. And that thing was heavy, I think 6kg, which I now had to lug with me until Monday when the post office would be open. Off to the bus station, caught one that was just pulling away and headed north to Bikaner. The trip was about 5.5 hours on a government bus, desert scenery, which is just brown and dry and monotonous, but it makes such a great backdrop to all of the women in their bright saris. It's like a desert full of rainbows because the women walk in groups and I have never seen such colorful clothes, fuchsia is a popular one in this part of India, but I would say every color is represented well. And I can't get over all of the camels here. The cows don't faze me anymore, but seeing huge camels pulling carts down the street is crazy. Some of the camels are really tall- I could seriously walk under some of them without bending over. Anyway, touts and rickshaws aren't usually waiting for foreigners at the government bus stations because apparently I am the only one taking these buses, so when I got to Bikaner I was kind of on my own for a minute wandering down the street with my 2 bags and a heavy package to carry. Finally a rickshaw picked me up and took me to a hotel that an American couple had referred me to. Heck yeah, hot water forever. Which means I did laundry, which I love doing by hand now cause I get to see how dirty the water gets in the bucket. This load (ALL 7 articles that I have) made MUD. I guess from being in the desert and on the dirty buses. So far on this trip I have learned many things. One is that different soaps really do have different jobs. Shampoo is great for my hair, but does not clean my clothes. A packet of Tide Jasmine with Dirt Magnets really cleans my clothes. Too bad they never dried fully before getting packed in my bag and now all smell kind of moldy. Bikaner was a dust bowl and the post office was a trip. I had to fill out a flimsy piece of paper for customs and tape that on the outside. Which meant running across the street to buy tape and a magic marker to write the address. Apparently no one likes to queue up at the post office, so I had to throw a few elbows to make it to the window. I hope everything was filled out ok. It sure wasn't a very official process. I chose to have it shipped by sea which will take about a month. I watched as the guy chucked my bundle on the floor and couldn't help but wonder if I will ever see it again. After that I had a rickshaw drop me at a local bus stop and took one about 30km down the road to the Karni Mata Temple in Deshnok. This bus ride was funny because when it is just a quick, local jaunt they pack that thing til it is bursting at the seams. I had to stand in the aisle totally smashed on all sides. I was like the mayo in an Indian sandwich. I didn't even have to hang onto anything cause there were so many bodies. No biggie- quick ride. But getting off of the bus was the hard part. It was like you have to move limb by limb- push one arm toward where you want to go and then follow with every other body part through the sea of people until you pop out of the bus. Here is why tourists go to Karni Mata Temple...it is The Temple of Rats. The holy rodents are considered to be incarnations of storytellers and the temple is a major pilgrimage site. Visitors line up inside where they are anointed with ash before paying respect at the inner shrine. Just to the side of the enclosed shrine was a man with scissors that would chop off a good size lock of kids' hair, but I'm not sure what was eventually done with this. The rats were small, but ran around everywhere, a bunch were rimmed around a huge milk bowl, and many were feeding on chunks of yellow sugar balls that the pilgrims buy as an offering. I'm sure I had quite the look on my face the whole time I was in the temple. I was the only foreigner when I was there and I just had to laugh that while everyone else was there to worship the rats, I was doing everything I could to stifle little yelps when one would run toward my feet (no shoes in temples). It was so bizarre. I tried to get some good pictures, but those guys are fast, so we'll see what I came up with later. Anyway, this is getting long. For those of you worried about my proximity to Pakistan, don't. I am as safe in my little sleeping bag each night as you are in your fancy American beds. India and Pakistan don't really get along, but there isn't tension along the border where I am traveling currently, and it wouldn't be a secret if there was. I am on a VERY well-worn tourist trail right now and if you all want something real to worry about it should be that I get run over by a rickshaw or scooter. It almost happened in Jodhpur- it would have only hurt a little (ok, a lot), but to think that the reason he almost hit me was because he was swerving out of the way of some trash in the alley....huh.
I'm freezing, I gotta go- will write about Amritsar later.

Jodhpur to Jaisalmer, India

From Pushkar, I took a government bus (read ramshackle) about 5.5 hours to Jodhpur and was only there for a day. The government buses are way more fun than the private, touristy buses. First of all, the local buses are frequent, so all I have to do is show up at the bus station when I want and I can usually get a bus within an hour or even 30 minutes. They are CHEAP and always interesting. I am usually the only foreigner on these buses, but there is no hassle and no one really stares for too long- although, it has worked out perfectly that I have been in the very front seat on the last 2 rides, so if there is a lot of staring it would just be at the back of my head, and I would never really know about it. The only problem is that the bus makes only a couple of stops that last longer than 5 minutes, so going to the bathroom is kind of out of the question. I thought I was going to die of bladder explosion yesterday on the bus, but finally it stopped for what I was told would be at least 10 minutes and I was able to run to a toilet inside a little restaurant shack. I REALLY disliked Jodhpur. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I had just come from a quiet, serene 5 days in Pushkar, and Jodhpur was quite the opposite. It was so intense with the narrow alleys clogged with rickshaws and scooters that go way too fast, the streets were filthy and there was just so much NOISE. I had a headache the whole time I was there. I swear, I have never heard so many vehicles honking in all of my life and the horns here are as loud as a semi horn from back home. The people were kind of intense as well. Every single person says "hello", which sounds more like "AH-lo", which is fine, but when there are a million people in just a short distance, it is hard to respond to everyone and then if I don't, they just keep yelling "Ahlo, which country?" over and over and over again. One little kid ran up to me and spanked me with his wiffle bat (cricket style, not baseball) for no apparent reason and another girl pulled my hair. One funny thing that I noticed on a walk though, was that the goats around town are wearing shirts. I have no idea why. Some of the dogs had shirts on too. Jodhpur is known as the blue city because many of the buildings are painted the same sky-blue color, which is believed to repel insects and keep the city cool in the summer. I took a tour of Mehrangarh Fort, which is in the image I posted from the web. The fort was mostly built during a period in the mid-1600s and the audio tour of the whole fort and palace inside was really informative. I liked the huge iron gates located in several places leading up to the fort- they were covered in spikes which kept military elephants from charging and tearing down the doors. The Jodhpur fort is just for tourists to visit, unlike the fort in Jaisalmer (where I am now) which is smaller, but still inhabited by villagers. It is super compact with narrow alleys, but there are a few temples inside and a bunch of shops and guesthouses. From the outside, it looks exactly like a sand castle on a hill. The rest of Jaislamer is walled as well and there are gates surrounding the town which is where you enter and exit. Jodhpur and Udaipur are walled towns too with iron gates left open to traffic coming and going. This is desert country- I am now in the Thar Desert, the world's 7th largest, so there are camels running around, being used for labor and for tourist safaris. The bus ride yesterday was mostly through the desert with lots of shrubs and rocks and some trees. The safaris (heading out on a trip tomorrow) visit some more picturesque parts of the desert where there are just pretty dunes for miles, no trees or bushes. Jaisalmer is nice and quiet like Pushkar, and the hotels are CHEAP. 150 rupees ($3), and I am wondering if this is because the guesthouse owners usually make their money on the safaris, which are kind of pricey. I think I will just do one night in the desert- I'm thinking 2 days on the back of a camel might be enough. Will report when I return...

Pushkar, India

Pushkar is a great town for vegetarians and recovering alcoholics. It is a holy city, so there are no meat products, including eggs, and no booze to be found for many, many miles. It kind of looks like a mini Udaipur, situated around a small lake, although the lake here is dried up for the season. Legend has it that this lake was consecrated to Lord Brahma, the creator of the universe when a lotus dropped from his hand into the vale and a lake emerged in that place. My guide book says Pushkar is one of the oldest cities in India, although I really wouldn't call this place a city, and it is a major pilgrimage site for devout Hindus(and apparently global hippies). I love it here, and only planned on staying a day or two, but this is the type of place where you just slow down, soak it in and stay for awhile. Because it is a holy site, there are small temples all over town along with a couple of bigger ones, and the lake is surrounded by 52 ghats, which are the steps where pilgrims walk down to bathe and wash their clothes in the holy water. I have a lovely room at the Hotel Paramount Palace, with a small balcony and a view of the whole town, all of the concrete rooftops, some sage-brushy mountains and hills, and a run-down temple right next door. I have mostly spent the last few days just walking around, taking pictures, drinking chai, etc. I spent one day with a very smart 8 year-old boy who was just making me laugh with all his quips and wise comments. We walked out of town to see some temples, shared a vegetable pizza at the Sai Baba restaurant, and walked up and down the ghats next to the lake on our way to see his mom who was selling teeny tiny pears at the market. The main street in town is this long, narrow bazaar lined with all types of touristy shops selling jewelry, trinkets, tapestries and handicrafts. There are no rickshaws here, so it is nice to be able to walk around in peace- just have to look out for cow patties on the street. Young gypsy girls run around in their bejeweled saris asking to have their picture taken for money and they also offer henna painting, which I couldn't say no to. The paint is dark brown and leaves kind of an orangey stain after it is scraped off. I had it done on the first day and it is already wearing off a little bit from my fingers. Yesterday I headed toward the perfectly triangular-shaped hill just outside of town and spent about 45 minutes climbing the rocky stairs to the top, where a small temple sits. I had an amazing view of the surrounding desert countryside from the top and on the way down I had some of the best chai tea yet; I like it with lots of ginger. In the afternoon, I hung out with a Swiss girl on the rooftop of one of the restaurants in town and we got involved in the VERY popular Pushkar sport of kite flying. All of the kids, and some adults, fly kites here- very simple, small paper squares, and in the early evening I counted about 30 of them over town, which is walkable form end to end in about 15 minutes. I could look across all of the rooftops in town and see kids all over the place holding onto their spools of string. Even the owner of the restaurant was laughing at how many "monkeys" were on the terraces flying their kites. And, of course, there are as many kites in the trees around town as I saw in the sky. Today is blog day, bucket laundry day, reading day, and maybe a little walk. I am going to say goodbye to Pushkar for now and head to Johdpur in the morning- about 5 hours by bus.

Udaipur to Pushkar, India

Laid-back Udaipur...all I did was walk around, take pictures, talk to people. I think it is funny that I only had to walk about 5 minutes away from the tourist area to be completely immersed in the local market, local people, no more signs in English, no more massage shops or internet rooms, and no other foreigners. This is way more fun and while I usually stay in the touristy district because of the choice of hotels and guesthouses, I am quick to step out of the hubbub of shopping and incessant badgering by touts and local travel agencies. I had fun photographing three girls on one of my walks and then took them to a little toy shop down the street to pick out some dolls- nothing fancy, just these cute plastic dolls that only cost about 20 rupees each, 50 rupees is roughly one US dollar. They were excited, but it created a little stir with some other kids down the street, so I had to bail quickly before having to buy the whole store for all of the kids that were all the sudden coming out of nowhere. One of the nights in Udaipur, I had a very yummy dinner at one of the many rooftop restaurants in town- I think I had chicken briyani, a rice dish- and the owner of the hotel/restaurant sat with me and told me all sorts of stories. He was so friendly and fun to talk to, I actually went back the next night for delicious chiken tikka, nan, and a banana lassi, a yogurt based drink. Rahil sat with me again and during our after-dinner chai, he read my palm, which he said is just a hobby. He wrote down my full name, date of birth and then after inspecting my palm and jotting down some numbers, making a grid, and doing a little math he came up with: 2007 was a memorable year for me, not necessarily in a positive light; I have 2 brothers(!); I have willpower, but can lack confidence; I am very guilty of unnecessary thinking- too much analyzing; I need to wear some kind of pearl, like a pearl pendant to "cool" my mind; I need to take a job abroad should the opportunity present itself; my calling is to work with people in some way, he said with handicapped or disadvantaged people (never told him my degree); I need to take what people say less with my heart and mind and just more with my ears; and lastly, my "diamond" years will be from 2012-2024. And all I could think was, "crap, just my luck, isn't the world supposed to end in 2012?"
Yesterday, Rahil spent the whole day with me getting a phone that will work in India, and he saved me soooooo much money compared to if I had gone to one of the tourist shops. While we were waiting for the phone guy to unlock my mobile and get the SIM card to work, Rahil took me on a little tour of the city on his motorcycle- up to a palace on a mountain and then to a botanic garden next to a lake. Sometimes there are people who do these things because they want money, but sometimes there are people like Rahil who kind of adopt me and take me under their wing and it turns into an experience that I would only have when traveling alone, and that is why traveling alone can be so very rewarding. I had dinner back at his restaurant and I missed my 1pm bus because of the phone fiasco, so he just made a 10 second phone call to the "bus people" and switched my ticket to 10pm, with no extra charge even though I basically never even canceled the reservation beforehand. What a great couple of days. Although there are some guys here who are relentless, like the owner of the hotel where I was staying. He just did not want me to leave. He would just beg me to stay one, two more nights-then it was: "please, you don't go. stay forever."
And I'm like, "I have to see more of India..."
and he's like "but you are such a nice girl, I show you lake and temples tomorrow." "Aww, that sounds nice, but I already have a bus ticket to Pushkar."
Then he says, "No problem. I change ticket for you. No extra cost."
"No, really, I will come back to Udaipur someday and see you."
"And then you can be my girlfriend?"
"Uhhhhhhh."
"You can live here and get job. You work with Seattle couple that have animal hospital by the lake."
"Dogs and monkeys scare me."
"No problem. You learn to love."
And by the look on his face, I had to ask if we were still talking about dogs and monkeys. So, anyway, I was finally able to pry the bill out of his hand, pay the man for the nights I stayed and then got a taxi cab to the local bus station. I took a sleeper bus about 7 hours north to Ajmer, hopped in a rickshaw at 5am, took that to another bus stop, bought a ticket for 10 rupees to Pushkar about 11 km up the road and found a nice hotel early this morning. Those sleeper buses are awful- bumpy, bumpy ride. I ended up sleeping this morning in the hotel from about 6am to noon. Fortunately, I think I have hot water here. Last night I took a cold shower, no towel, the room was freezing, my hair was soaking wet- I finally wrapped myself in the wool blanket on the bed and sat there chattering for about a half hour. I did forget to mention how cool the weather has gotten since I started heading north from Bombay. The days are still warm, but at night I have been wearing a fleece and will probably have to pair my sandals with some wool socks here in Pushkar. Always a cute look. Also had to bust out the down seeping bag, which has me wondering how cold it will be way up in Nepal if it is already getting to be this chilly here. Good thing there are little tea shops everywhere to warm me up. And they are a great place to meet other travelers, like in Udaipur, it looked like this: A German, an American and three Israelis sitting in a hookah-pastry-tea cafe made of bamboo, listening to Hindi pop, talking about world travels and important things like whether a tangerine and mandarin orange taste the same, watching as a dog, a cow and a baby goat wander past the front door and then just as we all left the shop, left-over new year's fireworks started exploding right over the lake...ahhhh so nice.

Udaipur, India

Missing Bombay for reasons I would have never expected, but memories last a lifetime and I will always love that city. And I will be back soon, I'm sure. One thing that amused me the most about Bombay that I forgot to mention, is that you can have anything and everything delivered right to your door. McDonald's, a pack of safety pins, BEER, one can of soda, EVERYTHING. It got me thinking, why isn't there a beer delivery service back home? That would be awesome. Or is there beer delivery and I just didn't know it? Might make lazy Americans a little bit lazier, but still. I might have to look into that when I get back. New Year's Eve was at a friend's apartment where I was able to watch fireworks from a rooftop terrace and was able to check out the blue moon, which actually looked even prettier the next night when it was dark orange and HUGE. I realized the other day that for nearly 2 weeks in Bombay I saw a foreigner maybe once or twice. Everyone should have the opportunity to experience the perspective of being a minority- I learned some things while I was in the city and it definitely has opened my eyes a little wider. Thanks to Meena for letting me stay at her home- she is an honorary American who has traveled to and lived in the States several times. It was funny to have traveled all the way to India to learn all about New York City, where she lived for awhile. I guess I really do need to go visit. But mostly, I loved her stories about Indians and Indian history and traditions and religion and she told me all about her friends and family, we swapped books and talked about absolutely everything. Priceless. I met so many genuine friends of friends who have their own stories, but even with the distance and differences in culture, we are all just the same kind of people who like to sit and drink beers and talk about whatever happens to come up. (K- a little gem in a smoggy, chaotic Bombay- see you soon.) I got a train ticket and left on the 2nd, north out of the city, a little bit bleary eyed, just watching everything go by. I finally did see some slums about an hour or so into the ride that really hit me hard. You know when you see something kind of shocking and your hand instinctively covers your mouth? It was like that. Just tarps and wooden poles, trash, trash, trash everywhere, naked children running around in absolutely filthy puddles and mud and I don't even want to guess what else. Very sad. A few times during the train ride I had to cover my nose and mouth- I'm not sure what the stench was, but when it came, it was unbearable. I sat next to a young mother and her 2 little girls, on a bench seat, so they would swap every hour or so to sit next to me. I think it took about 8 hours to get to Ahmedabad. Each train stop has a couple of signs in English, so it isn't too hard to figure out where to get off. No reason to stay in that city, so I went straight to the ticket window at the station to get a reservation to Udaipur, and luckily I was able to get on the sleeper train just an hour later. Oh, the sleeper train. Definitely not for big people and not for the claustrophobic. I think I described the "bed" before. It is just metal with a thin covering of vinyl, only a little bit wider than myself and the ceiling of the train was barely 8 inches from my face when I was laying down. And yet, I was able to sleep for almost all of the 8 hours with my small pack as a pillow and my big pack at my feet. Most of the passengers were foreigners, so I knew that Udaipur must be pretty popular and I can understand why. Very charming city. When I got off the train at about 730 am yesterday, it was raining, which totally took me by surprise because the only weather I have dealt with since arriving in India is hot, smoggy sunshine. Turns out it doesn't typically rain this time of year, and it stopped half way through the day. Udaipur is busy but serene with a narrow lake dividing the touristy part of town. I have an adorable room with a huge window looking across the lake- it isn't a wide lake, I could probably throw a rock half way across. There is a palace and some temples across the water and a footbridge connecting the 2 sides. The streets are as narrow as the width of one car and there are all kinds of fun shops selling arts and crafts. There is so much going on all over the place, that I constantly just have to stop when I am out walking and take it all in. All the locals say, "namaste" and cows are wandering down the streets and rummaging through the trash. Since the streets are narrow and the buildings are several stories high, it wasn't until I had dinner at a roof top restaurant that I noticed MOUNTAINS! yay! not huge, but a gorgeous back drop to the city and with the lake in the foreground, I had a nice treat at sunset. I can't get over how much "stuff" is constantly going on at any given moment...there is just so much to look at. Soooo many little shops, mostly the size of an American style walk-in closet. haha. Tailors, bakeries, art, snacks, everything. I had tea and cake last night at a tiny shop made of bamboo with comfy cushioned stools and chatted with a trio of Aussies- an old man and a mother and daughter. Australians travel everywhere, such friendly people and always fun to talk to. We all laughed when a cow would just wander past the front entry. Today, I just walked around some more and took pictures. I hung out on some steps next to the lake where local women pound laundry all day long and some local boys came and sat by me. One of the boys spoke perfect English because he attends a missionary school where the nuns speak English, so we chatted for awhile. He was only 12, but it was like talking to a little adult, because when he asked me how old I was and I told him, he said, "you're not 30! really? I would say you look like you are 23 and very beautiful." My new best friend. I think I made his day by letting him take a few pictures with my camera. The tourist area is frustrating here because every other local guy asks, "which country you from?" as you walk by, which is just a conversation starter that always leads to "you want rickshaw tour of Udaipur?" Or "you come to my shop, yes?" Just when I thought the only reason the locals want to talk is because they want my money for some reason, I met this funny looking old man who owns a tiny art shop. I was taking a picture right next door, when he took out his cell phone and asked if he could take a picture of me. I said, "one rupee, please." And he started laughing and then invited me into his shop. I was ready to get the full spiel about his artwork and why I should buy it, but it never happened. Amazing. He just wanted to talk and then he went and bought us some tea and brought it back. And then when I mentioned that I have been looking for a guidebook, he went and grabbed his scooter from the alley and took me about 1km down the street to a book store. And I love how before he took me to the book store, he just turned out the light to his shop and when I asked if he was just going to leave the shop all open, he said, "If I do right, then all will be right for me."