Back to the beach in the state of Goa, southern India, where I wouldn't call it "Real" India, but it is a nice getaway from the chaos up north. It is nice to put down roots for a bit of time, no lugging around the big purple bag, deflecting constant stares or having to catch buses, taxis, or rickshaws to some fleabag guesthouse. Just as I reported in December, the pace here is slow, the weather is hot and all of the westerners who flock here are interesting and very accepting. My days start late in the morning with breakfast at one of the local favorites, Double Dutch, if I am craving some eggs and toast, The Bees Knees has the best iced coffee or there is the no-name place in a garden setting that serves up a tasty masala dosa. Napping in the afternoon, reading, listening to music, drinking beer at the beach, and there is always the ritual of watching the sun set every single night, which has been a stunning pink as of late and the new moon rising has been glowing reddish-orange. My birthday was quite memorable this year as it was used as the perfect excuse for a house party with my friend K and a whole lot of lovely people-Faisal and his brother Nas from India, Hazel and Andrew from England, Joy from France, Alex from Germany and her husband Jay, and others...I have met so many amazing people from all over the world, people with so many fascinating stories. The birthday dinner was a TREAT as Andrew is undoubtedly the best cook in town. We ate rice and vegetable curry, fresh sauteed prawns, feta cheese and tomatoes wrapped in sliced plantains, a crab cake without the crab- it was made of beetroot and some other vegetables and it was the best little appetizer I have ever had. We all sat on the floor of the large balcony with a dim light and cushions and feasted...great food, great company but dessert was, of course, the best part. What I love most is hearing other people talking about the places they have been and being able to chime in because I have been there too, like when someone was telling an I-almost-died story from Pisco, Peru, and the story is so much more real because I have been there and had experiences in the same place. But even if it is somewhere I haven't visited yet, it is so fun to listen in when say, John talks about how sick he got from food poisoning in Morocco and then Nas starts laughing and tells a tale from his time spent there as well.
There are markets here each week, the famous Wednesday market and the Saturday night market with shopping and local music and food. There are concerts at venues along the beach and mini jam sessions in the sand every night at sunset. Cheap bamboo huts line the beach along with far more bars and restaurants than are necessary. Cows and dogs stroll along the shoreline (it is still India after all), fishermen rest against their boats after the day's catch of kingfish or shrimp and freshly tanned travelers sit in yoga poses in the sand. It isn't a resort or paradise if that is what you are picturing, though. It is touristy, but not westernized, YET, at least not quite like some of the Thailand beach communities are. The paths leading up to the road from the beach are piled with litter and polluted streams flow into the sea. It is quiet and welcoming, though, and a perfect place to just enjoy "living" abroad, being able to get to know new people and have friends to make memories with. It is satisfying to have nothing to do, nowhere to be, no tv to watch, no newspaper to read- so simple. And of course, I only visit the computer room every once in awhile, which is why the blog entries have been few and far between...i will be back soon...
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
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...
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...
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