g's travels

pretty little pondicherry

2012-01-26T06:16:00.000-05:00

i've always been sort of intrigued by pondicherry. initially because it had such a cute name. i mean, pondicherry? it sounds adorable. then when i found out about its major french influence, i was sold. having now spent several months in india almost entirely pastry and non-amul cheese -less, i was hopeful for some authentic food if nothing else.

pondicherry did not disappoint! a charming little town, it boasts both lingering french influences and actual french people - thanks to the prominent ex-pat community. each street has two names, one french and the other vaguely tamil or perhaps the name of a person (confusing for the mailman, i'm sure). the city is divided into sections - french, tamil, muslim etc and bifurcated by a canal that has surely seen better days.

petit déj, anyone?

we stayed at a quaint little guest house (le rêve bleu.. charmant, non?) that seems to be popular with the french set - evidenced by the scene of baguette-tearing and cigarette-chain smoking we came down to in the morning. the french proprietess steered us towards the best bakery in town, baker street (english/sherlock holmes theme but thoroughly french) where we indulged in a breakfast of macarons (basil and vanilla olive oil) and croissants of the regular and almond variety (the latter was the best). french pastries at indian pastry prices? a rare find indeed.

properly stuffed, it was off to explore the city. we rented bikes and cycled around town, meandering here and there and stopping to take very similar pictures about every 30 meters. we made it out to the sea (which we later learned was a bay) and pedaled our way along the shoreline. at some point we stopped along the water at a cafe named, aptly, le café, where we had a lovely breeze and may have even been in the background of a (very cheesy) tamil music video.

colors of pondy

after some more wandering we made our way to a nondescript place farther down the beach for a quick drink as the sun was setting. on the way we stopped to see 'the elephant' who visits the temple each day to bless whoever wants to offer money or fruit. for a few rupees you can experience the warm breath of an elephant as its trunk brushes over your head. for dinner we met a friend of a friend for a rather nice meal - mostly south indian food (think rice and coconuts) with a fancy touch. i had the chicken chetinad - a local preparation - and we shared other seafood and curry dishes as well. delightful!

which kind of sums up pondicherry actually. it was a delight, and we left quite full.

textile text

2012-01-22T01:36:00.023-05:00

from the colors and kites of ahmedabad i headed towards the promise of deserts and textiles in kutch. a few hours spent mostly asleep at the back of a sleeper bus (they actually have beds with curtains - kind of like the 'knight bus' in harry potter. and often just as jerky) and i arrived in bhuj, the principal central destination and jumping off point for the area. the guest house i had tracked down was small and simple with a friendly staff.

earthquake damage inside the palace complex

the first day i spent wandering the town, which is rather unremarkable except for the earthquake damage that’s still visible throughout. the quake, in 2001, was fairly disastrous for the region and many of its oldest buildings and the remnants are still around. i saw the aina mahal, the foremost of the city’s few sights, which was little more than a few rooms of a once-great palace. the blue and white-tiled floor and the room covered in mirrors made for quite a sight. i capped off the day with some window shopping – perusing the markets, shops and stalls for embroidery work and snacks.

the next day it was off to discover what i had come here for: textiles! kutch is the home of all things textile in gujarat, which therefore makes it home to some of the best textiles in the country. there are hundreds of villages in the region, each of which specializes in a particular craft, be it embroidery (of all different styles), dyeing, or printing.

so the first day i set off in a rickshaw with lilli, a lovely finnish, london-based lady who takes off the month of december every year to travel and has been making her way through india for the last few of them. we stopped at various points along the way at small villages to wander, take pictures, enjoy chai, or snack on namkeen. we even crashed the early stages of a wedding at one point. ‘tis the season.

displaying her wedding dress

our first craft stop was in bhujodi, known for its embroidery - as many villages are. the work was indeed detailed and beautiful - full of mirrors (actually more of shiny silvery discs) and every color imaginable. the things they produce are amazing and surely take months to create. one can't help feeling though that they would be helped (commercially, at least) by creating items with a color palette that appeals to a more western aesthetic (as opposed to every color you can think of). the pieces we later saw in workshops and cooperatives (run by westerners, often) reflected this notion, but the women whose work we saw in their homes largely didn't.

prints on prints

our next stop was ajrakhpuram, the home of traditional wood block printing. (!!) dr.ismail mohammed khatri's family has been in this business for nine generations and seems to be the only family left in this business. we took a tour of the workshop although it was past 3 and the dr. explained that the sunlight, and therefore work, was largely over for the day. this was disappointing, but still seeing the dyes, long tables laid with cloth, and best of all - dozens and dozens of block designs, was still fascinating. after the requisite chai we were let loose to explore the fabrics and clothes in the cabinets. my excitement must have been noticeable because at some point lilli said 'you're in heaven, aren't you?'. was it that obvious? in the end i curbed my enthusiasm a bit and walked out with some fabric, a scarf and a bag. and the important information that one has to go to a different city/region to buy the actual wood blocks (i smell another trip to gujarat!)

our final, rather abbreviated, stop (too many village stops earlier, i suppose) was in madhapur, a town that had some handloom work. we saw the giant looms but, again, nobody working them. and i was disappointed to find not handloom textiles but rather predominantly heavy woolen shawls and blankets.

sari i fell in love with

the next day i headed north, up into the bunni region, which requires a government permit for a reason i'm still not sure of. it was a bit farther than the last day's journey and the wind made the trip rather chilly. but along the way there were sights of marshes and all kinds of birds. again it was a day of visiting random little villages that one would never find without a guide. here there are all types of embroidery, including jat and rabari, which each use distinctive stitches and motifs.

desert dwelling

but the villages were also filled with fantastic architecture. traditional round mud huts called bhungs decorated with the ubiquitous gujarati mirrors and carved designs. the interiors were similarly bright - filled with brightly colored walls and carved and mirrored wooden furniture. being me (of course) i also took particular note of the doors. there seem to be so many similarities between these and ones i've seen in north africa. it makes me wonder if there's a universal 'desert' architecture - the mud carvings i also related to the arid landscape of niger and nigeria (or at least what i've seen in photos). at any rate it was as beautiful and ornate as the textiles we saw all over - usually accompanied by arms loaded with plastic bangles and weather-worn smiles.

my final day in the region was spent in mandvi which is a port city known for its beach and ship-building. the beach was incredibly underwhelming - a depressing little stretch of sand with a few snack stands and some horses tethered to stakes. the city itself was similarly unexciting, the 'market' leaving much to be desired (like shops, for instance). the ship-building, however, was an incredible sight. i wasn't expecting much, but tramping around seeing these enormous wooden structures propped up on shore, being made by hand, was pretty awe-inspiring. like watching noah's ark being built. was it worth the 30 rupee/one hour bus ride? yeah probably.

in short kutch was a lovely place with friendly people, unique sights, and of course, colors!

let's go fly some kites

2012-01-18T10:40:00.000-05:00

so after my three weeks of travel i dropped in for a pitstop in mumbai (just enough time to get some clothes altered at the tailor and others cleaned from the dhobi), enjoyed the beautiful sunny weather, and decided i really do feel at home in the city.

then i left again.

kites of all colors

this time heading to gujarat for my third trip to ahmedabad. it's quickly becoming one of my favorite cities.. all kinds of architecture.. textiles, of course, and this time.. kites! uttarayan is literally just a festival of flying kites. people all over india enjoy flying kites this time of year, grateful for the winter weather (which still requires sunscreen) and windy days. uttarayan is always celebrated on the 14th, and officially commemorates the lengthening days and moving northward of the sun. and perhaps nowhere is it celebrated more than ahmedabad.

bright pink spinning.. like cotton candy

my first day in the city i visited what are becoming my 'usual places' - namely lucky tea stall (a favorite haunt of the late, great m.f. husain) and dropped some rupees at two standby textile shops. (side note: i found a cohort who's even crazier about textiles than i am! she just bought her third sewing machine, to give you an idea..). i spent the rest of my afternoon searching for kites.. easier said than done! while i had seen scads the night before on the way back from the train station their presence was less than universal. i did eventually find some, along with the sights of kite-preparation: stretching the string and adding the powdered dyes and glass bits (for cutting), spinning on the big wheels, and getting the string onto the spools (which i just found spell-bindingly gorgeous, especially with the lovely gujarati text). i saw several kids practicing in preparation for the big day. and a few of them even invited me into their home behind the kite stand. they were all smiles and giggles, of course.

spools and spools

the next day the festivities began. bright and early people got up and took to their roofs to take advantage of the early morning breezes. i made my way to a friend's friend's house on the other side of the city. there i found out that proper attire for uttarayan consists of sunscreen and hats (often cowboy hats, it seems), and tape around the fingers for the die-hard kite-fighters (remember that glass i mentioned?). we tried our luck getting the kites up and cutting some down - we were even successful a few times though, admittedly, accidentally. it was much fun - fighting the neighbors on nearby rooftops and cheering and gloating when victorious. lapet! we shout (which means 'cut'). we managed to learn the proper ways to string the kites (maybe a few errors), bend them (over your head), and keep them in the air (that part may have been more theoretical on our part). we spent the day between rooftops of various friends, intermittently flying, snacking (chikki is quite popular.. sweets with peanuts or sesame seeds, also these little balls of puffed rice), and dancing when the wind died down. as evening came on and the light began to fade people started lighting paper lanterns and letting them float up into the atmosphere - a truly lovely sight.

but since one day wasn't enough - and the next day was sunday after all - there was another day of festivities. we repeated our actions from the day before - different rooftops, same activities. with perhaps less kite-fighting and more dancing. another gorgeous day with beautiful weather and good company. what more could you ask for?

well, maybe just a little breeze.

northern exposure

2012-01-08T03:23:00.001-05:00

as i was headed on a northward train bound for the capital i realized a week ago i had been lying on a beach with sand in my toes. my sunburn was still peeling when i reached delhi and its cold winds. the forecasted highs in 60s turned out to be quite deceptive - as that temperature lasts only for about two hours a day when the sun meekly tries peek out from behind the solid curtain of clouds.

i spent the first few days with my good friend reetika's family - she arrived two days later - enjoying home-cooked food and walking around the neighborhood, including the fancy nearby mall, which was all decked out for christmas. i must say the cold weather made it feel a little more festive.

then my friends arrived and we left for haryana - but of course not without some family input on driving, weather and fog. eventually we were on the road and, lo and behold, the fog was as bad as we had heard. for the last 30 kilometers our speed was probably little better than a determined cow. but we were rewarded with chai and duty free goodies upon our arrival at jimmy's house.

a dewy karnal morning

the next day or two were spent enjoying the sights of the countryside in karnal, getting to know jimmy's family (in town from the US and australia) and, in my case, taking pictures of dewdrops on the roof.

then that night we, and all the guests, were treated to a party. in preparation the women all got henna from the mendhiwalla (which i stupidly didn't take a picture of) and some of us finally got our hair properly done after months of tangles and gel! we got all gussied up and come outside to an awesome setup. jimmy's front yard was transformed - surrounded by tents of white and pinks, with hanging lights, covered tables, chaffing dishes waiting with catered deliciousness, a bar, a dance floor/DJ and a full staff passing out appetizers. these guys don't mess around. and, best of all, since it was a punjabi affair, there was dancing (and bhangra, natch) within the first 20 minutes. even baby zara (jimmy's newest niece, with the absolute cutest cheeks i've ever seen) made and brief appearance on the floor. it was pretty perfect.

but then it was on to amritsar! and my first time in the punjab. we crammed our stuff into the back of a moderate-sized indian car (read: very small by american car standards) and jammed five of us into it. i've said it before, and i've said it again. that backseat was not meant to be shared by three grown adults. it was a rather painful car ride - imagine being on a plane in the middle seat with no armrests, no ability to get up and walk through the aisles, and no entertainment but old hindi songs (which i generally like, but still). for eight hours. that was about the size of it.

and this was one of the nicer ones!

but we were rewarded with our arrival in amritsar and the softest bed i have slept on in months! the next day was a full day of amritsar - which mean golden temple, wagah border and lots of food. it also happened to be christmas! in india, that apparently amounts to cheesy christmas wares - including uber-creepy santa masks that people walk by wearing/selling - and cruising around in the street all night honking and yelling. but i digress.

golden water

our first stop was the golden temple (officially, harmandir sahib), the holiest site for sikhs and an incredible sight to behold. definitely one of those 'i can't believe i'm here' moments. the gurdwara draws religious pilgrims, of course, but also welcomes anyone - provided your head is covered and your feet are washed. once inside you can see all sorts of families, visitors and faithful taking a dip in the holy water or circumambulating in approach to the inner temple. we took our time enjoying the various views of the gold reflecting on the shimmering water and the white marble tiles. because of intense sunday crowds we made our offerings at a smaller shrine and received our (delicious!) prasad. you can even go back for seconds. now that's a good temple. in seriousness though, it was a pretty incredible experience and one of the most spiritual places i've gone in a very spiritual country.

just look at it glisten

having experienced the quintessential amritsar attraction, it was on to the number 2 thing to do in amritsar: EAT. amritsar has the self-proclaimed 'best food in the world', which apparently means the oiliest. we were lucky to have jimmy, a seasoned amritsar visitor, to hit all the highlights of punjabi cuisine in the city, including the famous kesar da dhaba, down a series of alleys i'm sure i never would have discovered. we had a parade of foods - greasy puffed up puri or thick tasty kulcha, along with various vegetables and paneer that all came with a thin layer of desi ghee floating on top. even the heartiest of eaters among us were thoroughly stuffed after each meal. incredible food, but i don't recommend eating it every day. unless, of course, you're a robust punjabi farmer who works his fields every day. sort of the indian version of a ploughman's lunch.

sun setting on india and pakistan

our next stop was onward to the wagah border, the india-pakistan border, (so close to lahore - only 26 km! - i want to gooo) which i have heard is an experience. we arrived just before the flag lowering ceremony at sunset. my friend and i were ushered through security lines and then sent to sit in the ladies section (our less fortunate male counterparts were relegated to stay outside as seating was full - or so we thought). it was packed and the crowds were excited. it was quite a patriotic display, with flags waving and chanting (long live india, that sort of thing) that i imagine is matched only at cricket matches. one man in a white track suit ran along the road rousing the crowd and inciting cheers. in the midst of this we noticed three guys running across the road to claim some spots on the road down front. yes, it was our friends. evidently they used some bulky SLRs and college IDs to convince the border police they were making a documentary for an american university (did you get permission? oh yes yes). no, i don't know how they would make a documentary with still pictures, either. stop motion animation? at any rate they got in and of course the story has now become requisite in retellings of our trip to amritsar. the border scene looked quite picturesque - the flags and crowd in that golden dusky light - but after a few guards shouting and high-kicking and the simultaneous flag-lowering, it was all over.

reminders

after a small christmas celebration that night (mini tree, santa hats and fruit cake - all available here) we awoke for our final morning in town. we followed a hearty breakfast (naturally) with a trip to jallianwala bagh. the site memorializes the victims of one of the sadder chapters in india's history - a massacre of innocents by british general dyer. 700 was the official death count but other estimates place it at over double that. most moving were the bullet holes in the wall that people tried to scale to escape.

after a quick stop shopping for shoes (which was remarkably quick considering the shoppers included women) and some streetside sweet potatoes (with lemon and spices, of course) we made our way back on the road. another long ride, made bearable only by reetika's ipad and a stop for chai and pakoras at a dhaba.

lemon parathas.. who knew?

eventually we made it back to delhi, where i spent the next few days playing with reetika's nephews, eating, museum-hopping, seeing friends, and (my favorite thing to do in delhi!) shopping. some highlights: sampling different types of parathas at paratha wali gully in chandni chowk, trying the unique changezi chicken, snacking on aloo chaat and getting piping hot momos wherever i could find them. new years was celebrated as it should be, with good friends and good food. (although we missed the midnight countdown..oops) the rooftop bonfire was an added bonus. and at janpath i scored some great kurtas and beautiful scarves at excellent prices (native-approved) and bolstered my confidence in my haggling abilities.

it was a great trip - and wonderful seeing old friends (does two years an old friend make? i say yes) but before i knew it i was speeding back to mumbai in my sleeper train berth. warm weather (goodbye, socks!) and metered autos (god bless those) welcomed me back to bombay, which i'm glad to enjoy. at least until the next trip.

stop and goa

2011-12-14T05:47:00.002-05:00

[disclaimer: i realize this is a beach post and that it's winter and probably dreary on the east coast, i do. read on if you'd like, but you've been warned.]

well this was perhaps the most impromptu trip i've ever taken. but it's goa. i always just figured a trip to goa would sort of happen. indeed it did. my friend had invited my roommate and me to join her for her half-marathon/long weekend in goa. my roommate complied and, as soon as my plans freed up (friday, fewer than three hours before the bus was set to leave) i found myself booking a ticket. i had had a rough week, i justified to myself. i hurriedly threw a swimsuit, a few shirt and skirts into a bag and ran out to get the bus. so fast, in fact, that i walked right through a cowpie outside my apartment i had carefully avoided all day (yes, still wet). no matter! goa goa! onward.

well, come to find out, i needn't have hurried quite so much. i found myself waiting with a dozen or so other people on the curb next to a busy highway. buses sped by every few minutes and either zoomed by or slowed slightly to watch for potential passengers. i was starting to get nervous until i ran into my roommate, whose bus was supposed to have left an hour before mine. we called the bus conductor and realized my bus would be at least 30 minutes late (go figure). eventually it arrived, i took my pitiful (obviously last available) seat in the middle of the back row (yes, the 5 across row) and attempted to sleep despite being hurtled forward by the lurching bus every 5 minutes. one of the least pleasant nights i've spent anywhere (and, let's remember, i once spent a night in a bus station). my companions didn't fare much better - one slept next to the alternate driver's bed, the other next to a guy who puked all night. and all three of our buses got flat tires. but eventually we made it to goa, and that was all that mattered.

we spent a day in vasco, a nothing sort of a city that boasted little else besides the half marathon the following day. we took advantage of the proximity to go up to old goa and wander around the churches and museum (not a bad museum, i have to say. by indian standards anyhow.) the museums were interesting as i think they always are here, but i was surprised to see that they weren't decorated for christmas at all. after all, isn't christmas the time to go to goa?? although on the way home we did hear some particularly awful christmas music coming from a market, saw one church promenade lit up with lights and witnessed a skit performed under a banner that proclaimed 'mary's boy child.' oh my.

we took it easy, for rachel's sake, but also because we were all exhausted from our respective bus rides. that crazy girl woke up at some ungodly time that began with a 4 to go run 21 kilometers. kristen and i dragged ourselves out of bed around 8 but didn't manage to beat her to the finish line to watch. the race, cleverly, ended on the beach. so we took pictures of her with her medal and took a celebratory dip (wade) in the sea.

golden fried prawns, anyone?

and then, off to colva! the real beach. we arrived, we changed into bathing suits and practically ran to the water. we passed stands with sarongs, wine shops and cashews. but the three of us, all total beach bums, would not be deterred. we made our way through the so-called indian beach (what you probably would imagine - crowded. and full of people in full clothing (saw some belts. belts!) or underwear. (swimsuits, people!) and ended up on the more isolated, so-called russian beach (more on that later). we plopped ourselves down at the first restaurant/shack there, claimed some padded lounge chairs and made our way straight to the ocean.

doesn't get much better

dear. lord. that water was as warm as i have ever felt. like floating in a giant bathtub. we dove into waves, got sand in our ears, floated on our backs and soaked in the sun. in between splashing in the water we read, sat on the sand, and stuffed ourselves with fried seafood. your basic beach behavior. waiters came by at intervals to check on us or just to chat, with typical indian hospitality. around happy hour, whenever we decided that was, we got some cocktails. fresh mint mojitos? piña coladas? (did i mention goa has the cheapest alcohol in india and mumbai has the most expensive?) accompanied by a hookah at sunset. we watched the sun go down until they sky turned gray, the lights came on, and the locals started playing volleyball.

the following day was more or less a repeat of the first. with a few small additions/annoyances. goa isn't perfect, after all (though it is awfully close). the first came at breakfast the second morning. we arrived at 8.15, where we thought we would be one of the first to get our free nosh. well we hadn't counted on the russians. remember the russians i mentioned? well they're everywhere. signs all over are in cyrilic, just as in pushkar they were in hebrew. it seemed every guest at the hotel had descended on the breakfast at once, jostling each other for jam, pushing kristen out of the way when the much-awaited potatoes arrived. someone even stole my toast from the toaster! we tried to steer clear, but this was easier said than done. as a group they had rather boxy frames (and usually haircuts to match). the russians at our beach bar were little better. they communicated in russian, or grunts. the only english i heard was from one very surly russian who snarled, in a stereotypical boris badenov accent 'i will kill you' and went on to order the waiter to bring him his juice in two minutes. what a pain having juices prepared with such fresh fruit!

(i should add here that i have nothing against the russians, nor am i trying to generalize about them as a whole. i'm just trying to describe the general demeanor of the ones we happened to meet.)

but no matter, we had a beach to get to. of course this as well was fraught with some obstacles (albeit ones we generally could avoid). walking through any stretch of crowded beach usually resulted in some sort of surreptitious - or blatant - picture-taking. on rare occasions, people would ask if they could take our pictures. uh, no.

all in all, though, we really couldn't complain. except of course, when it came to leaving. our last half day was spent trying to soak up every last drop of beachy goodness we could. we laid in the sun until it hurt, got smacked around by waves and ordered as much seafood as we could stomach. all the while getting more and more upset at the prospect of having to leave. kristen and i had an out-and-out tantrum when the kind of fish we wanted wasn't available for lunch. (alright, we weren't quite that bad, but we definitely got a little whiny/obnoxious) grudgingly, we made our way off the beach and got the essentials on the way out of town - cashews, cheap wine, sleeping pills for the bus, and frozen yogurt to soften the blow. before we knew it, we were on a sleeper bus driving in the opposite direction from the beach. (why?)

perfect end to a perfect day

and now, here we are, back in bombay and resenting every minute of it. haha, i don't know what it was about goa that made us such piggy little beach bums. maybe it's the crowds and chaos we deal with day-to-day in mumbai. maybe it's that i haven't been in a real sea in so long. or maybe goa is just amazing.

yup, that must be it.
is it too soon to book tickets back?

all in the families

2011-11-14T08:06:00.000-05:00

i've spoken a little bit before about the hospitality i've encountered in india. well, here comes some more. i went to ajmer on something of a whim after pushkar. (i can only take so much dreadlocks and ali baba pants, you know) i texted a friend (really more of an acquaintance, at the time) that i'd be in ajmer asking for recommendations. seconds later, he called me giving me his parents' number and told me i would be staying with them.

nom nom namkeen

sure enough, a few days later i hopped off the bus in ajmer and was greeted by a grinning, friendly-faced man in a baseball cap who flagged me down and took me straight to his home. there i was offered chai and namkeen (tasty fried snacks, which just about everyone has just made during diwali) for the first of dozens of times in the subsequent days. we chatted, we rested, we shared meals together in a little picnic on the bed, we watched tv, we took walks on the roof (back and forth, back and forth), we visited family. overall it was lovely and relaxing.

entering the dargah, loaded with offerings

his parents were both busy with work during the day but i managed to get into the city and explore it a bit. i didn't do the fort, which is perhaps the biggest (literally, in any case) attraction in the city. i saw some mughal architecture here and there. and i even saw the craziness of the chisti dargah on bakri id/eid al-adha. it's a big muslim pilgrimage site on any given day, but on one of the more important islamic holidays the streets were particularly bustling. interesting how religious events here - whatever religion - seem to include offerings, whether they be flowers, candles, or foods.

old streets of ajmer

aside from people watching, i did my own roaming around the city and doing two of my favorite things (shopping and taking pictures). i wandered around the old streets, popping into havelis here and there, admiring doorways, and attracting a lot of confused stares (as usual. but then i was pretty far out of tourist turf here). i stopped on a whim for some mosambi juice or a little daal ka halwa when the mood struck.

rolls and rolls

i also indulged in my latest obsession - buying trim! in theory i'm buying trim (or ribbon, but ribbon just makes it sound like i'm wrapping a christmas present) that will match fabric i've bought for kurtas, though some are just too pretty not to buy. i'll find a purpose for them later. plus they're so cheap (even compared to bombay prices)! after i had had my fill of shopping (chappals, incense, snacks, glass bangles, and snacks for the train) i tracked down a rickshaw, haggled for a decent price back to the family's house, and silently reminded myself to be grateful i live in a city where i never have to do that.

that night, as i said, was eid, and i found out we had been invited to a dinner at a muslim friend's home. delicious mutton with plenty of oil - yum! only then did i realize that i couldn't remember the last time i'd had meat (non-veg, here). i tried not to stuff myself too much which ended up being a very good thing, since from there we went directly to a wedding, where i was presented with a smorgasbord of snacks and desserts. i managed to make room for dahi wada, halwa, and gulab jamun, but had to pass on the dosas (and many other things, i'm sure). i even managed to make my way to the dance floor for some good old bollywood dancing with some perfect strangers. i could have stayed longer (my friend later told me his mother said it was 'hard to get me off the dance floor'.. oops) but still it was a fun night.

from there it was a sad goodbye to a new family and hello to a new one. i took the night train (my first in sleeper class, totally fine!) to indore and was greeted by a car and driver. this family, parents of my mom's neighbors and friends, lives right in indore in a really lovely, airy house with pale blue walls. i was of course offered the requisite tea and a chance to 'get fresh'. i happily took a sorely-needed shower before a delicious homemade lunch.

traffic jam

the next day i was taken to mandu, a town that was 2 hours of winding, often bumpy roads from indore. in addition to the driver, i was joined by uncle and the 12-year old daughter of family friend's. she graciously shared her music with me, asking me every other song if the (american) musicians were famous in the US. to her continual shock, they all were. and that, my friends, is how i was graced with the sounds of the jonas brothers for the first time. if you haven't had this experience, you're not missing much. the same few chords along with repetitions of the same inane lyrics, pretty much what you'd expect. on the way back we listened to hindi music, which was much more my speed (because in india my music tastes are about equivalent to that of a pre-teen). the other highlight of the drive was the herds and herds of sheep and be-turbaned shepherds we passed on the roads. like a sea of wool!

now that's a window

at any rate, mandu itself wasn't much. at one point there were something like 40 or 50 mughal forts and palaces spread across the town, of which only a few remnants remain. we explored three or four of the bigger ones and there were some interesting elements. sadly this also coincided with my camera acting up, but i did at least get the shot i came to get (see right). it's a pity the forts, and roads, aren't better maintained. but such things are not always priorities.

in indore itself we saw the typically things.. a musty old out of place baroque palace and a rather pitiful museum. there are good things here, but generally the state of these city museums is rather sad! i'd love to give them some TLC if someone would let me. we also saw the glass temple, a jain temple that certainly lives up to the moniker. every inch of the place is glass! no photography, of course, but it was quite a sight to behold.

sabudana khichdi, nice and spicy!

the main reason i came to indore (besides meeting up with family of friends) was twofold: eating and shopping. i was completely taken care of in both regards. i showed the family a list of a few things i had heard or read i should try in indore. upon seeing the list, uncle popped out to get me one dish (subudana khichdi - YUM) for breakfast and auntie planned to make another for lunch (baingan ka bharta, a delicious eggplant dish, with baajre ki roti, some of tastiest i've had), which she also showed me how to make. i was thoroughly spoiled! and then for shopping we headed out for some textile shopping. i was taken directly to the cloth market and directed to the best shop. there was no shortage of great materials and i had great fun, as usual, poring over them and matching colors. i walked out with 9 new fabrics (i may have a problem!) and a smile on my face.

in the few hours before my last meal in the city i spent time with auntie looking at lovely old pictures and going through her beautiful saris. by the time i left indore (another night train), i really did feel like i was part of the family. the goodbyes on the platform very nearly got teary.

i had an absolutely lovely trip and it really is because of the wonderful people i've met. it seems the more places i go to, the more i need to re-visit. it never ends! but i don't suppose that's a bad thing.

pushing off to pushkar

2011-11-12T10:46:00.003-05:00

well, we've arrived in november, which means i'm entering my third month here. it's funny, at home november is always my least favorite month. the sky gets bleak and gray, the weather turns from a crisp autumn chill to harsh winds and cold rains, and all those pretty leaves turn to brown crunchiness. in india, of course, i've had none of that. i have to say i've missed the fall - i've never really lived anywhere without one - the scenery, the pumpkins, the candy corn (thankfully i had some help on that front), but i can't say i miss the idea of long nights and winter coats. here, though, november is usually one of people's favorite months. monsoons and hot weather have more or less subsided and winter is setting in. now people can take leisurely walks in the evening or sit out on their terraces and read. it makes sense of course but still i'm always struck by this sort of climatic 180 - looking forward to winter rather than summer is so foreign to me. of course none of this applies much to mumbai, where it stays temperate to hot and humid year-round. maybe it's the hot, monotonous weather that was making me feel restless. whatever the reason, i was anxious for a change of pace and some new scenery.

so, with a hop, skip and a jump - or a plane, auto and a bus - i found myself in pushkar. after seeing the unabashedly jacked-up hotel prices and hearing warnings of overcrowding, i was surprised at being able to find a room the day before i arrived (seems to be how i generally plan my accommodations here..) but the hotel was close to the bus stop, within walking distance to everything (it's a tiny town), and i was able to haggle a good price on my room. so all was well.

offerings ready for the devout

i spent the first few hours wandering around the town by myself. it's your typical touristy little town. although it's an interesting mix of foreigners (there for pushkar fair and to experience general rajasthani glitz)/hippies (in a word, drugs) and hindu pilgrims (to take a dip down by the ghats or to visit one of very few brahma temples for prabodhini ekadashi, a long-named festival). this seems to result in lots of signs in hebrew and restaurants boasting pizza alongside vendors with flower malas and prasad. and of course all manners of typical rajasthani crafts - leather chappals, wide-eyed moustachio'ed puppets, and transparent dupattas lined with shimmering gold.

a sunset worthy of a holy destination

i meandered down to the lake, wandering through alleys with houses and down steps festooned with marigolds. the water is quite peaceful and lovely but the experience is somewhat spoiled by people constantly approaching you to put a flower in the water (no disrespect to the religious aspect but they way they accost tourists has become such a schtick, it feels almost smarmy somehow) or to scold you for taking pictures (of the sky? come on, man). to be fair, though, they do get an awful lot of tourists, many of whom are very disrespectful, i'm sure. and i did enjoy a particularly lovely sunset there.

camel with the desert-ed carnival

i was later joined by two other fulbrighters, an older german/now american(?) spouse of another scholar and a younger professor from new york (an odd couple to say the least). we explored the ghats in the morning light, walked through the familiar lanes of shops and made our way to the fairgrounds. first you wind your way through rows of horse and camel gear - ropes, bridles, bits and decorative flair - and then you arrive on the main street, lined with food vendors of all kinds and families with cookware or shoes laid out on blankets to sell. next comes the carnival portion of the grounds. a jungle of metal bars and dragon heads. i never saw any of the rides in motion, just a few men tinkering here and there. hard to tell if they were setting up or taking down. past this section, at last we see the animals. camels, horses and tents over the rolling dunes as far as the eye can see. some of the men are bringing the camels to the few water troughs, the more industrious ones have carts to tote people and are trolling for tourists to cart along, but most are tending to campfires or squatting near tents smoking beedis. i did see a few transactions going on too. the real pushkar fair. we wound our way through the rows of camels and horses, trying to avoid eye contact with all the various hawkers and dolled-up girls who try to give everyone mehndi (yes, even men).

leading camels

eventually we made our way to the fairgrounds, a large open space bounded by ropes and seats. we claimed a spot in the shade and watched a rather unsettling pre-show act, a man who touted his children's abilities to contort themselves, shimmy to music, or walk a tightrope (the latter was rather impressive, the rest odd). then the 'main event' began. the main event of the prescribed tourist-approved activities that day being the 'camel dance'. we, and the hundreds of other gawkers, gathered around a tiny pen, leaving the bulk of the seating around the arena empty. not well thought out, this design. the festivities began with a dog jumping through a hoop that was subsequently set on fire. then the camels. each came out one by one, invariably led by a man who proceeded to run it in (very small) circles inside the pen and then performed various tricks. sometimes having the camel lie down and lying on top of it, other times standing up on its back. all the while the camels were making those horrendous noises and it seemed clear from the amount of fight they put up that they weren't too happy. the subsequent horse tricks were a little more palatable. but we left halfway through, tired of sitting cramped behind the biggest dreadlocks i've ever seen (literally) watching tethered animals.

pots for offerings

evidently the more authentic cultural activities began after a few days, coinciding with the religious festival. i spent my last night there eating momos (in india, where there are tourists, there are tibetan shops/restaurants) and practicing two language with jeevan, my new half-french, half-indian friend. (he splits his time between the countries - i've never been so jealous of a 3-year old) i did get a glimpse at the cultural festivities though. the next morning i was strolling around to catch some last glimpses in that beautiful morning light when all of a sudden i found myself in the middle of a procession, with marigolds flying from all directions. (this was all fun and festive until i got splashed with jalebi oil! my poor purple kurta is ruined) there were various 'floats' rolled along on trucks, people marching, drummers, and of course, tons of flowers. it was quite a sight.

the aftermath

while i wish i could (and probably should) have stayed longer in pushkar i was feeling restless and had a family to meet in ajmer by the end of the weekend. such is my life. always pushing off to somewhere.

good golly, diwali

2011-10-28T04:21:00.001-05:00

finally! the long-awaited diwali celebrations are upon us. we could tell the holiday season was fast approaching because a) signs and ads all over feature diwali sales and b) it sounded like WWIII outside our window. for those of you who aren't familiar, diwali is the festival of light (it's most often, and aptly, described as christmas and the fourth of july rolled into one) though really it's more like the festival of light and sound.

strands of lights at crawford market

at any rate, i tried to get a feel (look, sound, whatever) for the festival from all angles. i started out down at crawford market, where i had been advised to wander around to see lanterns. upon arriving my roommate and i recalled why we had said we'd never come back here. it's quite crowded - with vehicles and people - which seems to make people think they can elbow you for no good reason. and most of the stuff they sell is, well, crap. and worst of all, no lanterns! at least none to speak of. a few cheap crappy ones with ganesh printed on the side. disappointing. what we did find, though, were lights. every little electrical shop and alley was filled with strands of colored lights of all varieties.

they don't look quite so cheap when it's dark and they're lit up

fortunately, i had better luck when i arrived in thane, a suburb of mumbai that's a pretty good hike (though easily accessible from the train), where my advisor happens to live. after some shopping (believe it or not, we drove all the way back to crawford market) and lunch we went out in the evening for different shopping. this time it included clothes and, luckily for me, some lantern spotting. there are all different varieties, as you can see, but they're virtually all made in china. there are a few that are still made locally but they're hard to find and seem to run out quickly. i've seen options for making your own as well, though i didn't try my hand at it this time around.

apartment complex on diwali-eve

later that evening we also went to a small local fair that had a set of stalls - carnival games, bangle vendors, dried fruit and salted fish - and a stage where a mythological play was being performed by villagers from a town in maharashtra. my advisor took me backstage, where i had very awkward encounters with the actors putting on their makeup (i was assured this was okay!) and tentatively took pictures as they stared back at me blankly. i saw a bit of the play but we didn't stay long. as i couldn't understand a word of the marathi, that was fine with me. the ride back (on the back of my professor's wife's scooter!) was lovely. with the wind in my hair, i had a great view of all the lights of the city.

and the next day was diwali! we woke up early to take baths with special oils and then, feeling 'fresh', put on our new clothes. sukhada (my advisor's daughter) and i went down to the nearby lake, where all the 'youngsters' gather in the morning to set off crackers (firecrackers, that is. india has this penchant for abbreviating). as expected, it was loud and crowded with scooters, people, and smoke. all over, friends were meeting (or trying to meet) and greeting each other with a hearty handshake and a 'happy diwali'. we met some friends of sukhada's too, who insisted on taking us out for lunch and then (other friends) for coffee. sukhada acquiesced, despite her 1:00 deadline (a journalist never gets to rest). we did also stop to get some crackers, naturally. the roadside stands are very reminiscent of those in the states, with just as much variety but probably fewer safety regulations.

clay diyas - some plain, some painted

from there sukhada headed to the office and i headed back to my 'hood, where shops were open and festivities were in full swing. the area around my house was transformed for diwali too, of course. vegetable vendors had added lanterns to their wares, in front of the sweet shop was a stand with colors for rangolis, and on the ground nearby baskets full of clay diyas, or small oil lamps. i bought myself a variety of small items to get myself in the diwali spirit (and perhaps a few sweets as well..) before heading home.

boys lighting sparklers (after all the big stuff was gone)

that evening i set out for juhu beach, just north of my area. i first stopped at the ymca, to the boys' home that i just started visiting. i was late for the diwali festivities, evidently, but was nevertheless eagerly greeted with many handshakes and 'happy diwalis'. the boys set off firecrackers for quite some time. it's kind of the perfect holiday for boys (and plenty of girls too, i should say) - it's loud, you get to play with fire, and people give you sweets. no wonder my friends have such fond memories. they squeezed every possible bit of entertainment from those firecrackers, even scraping the shrapnel paper strips across the floor for a pop-pop-pop sound. it was nice to see them all so excited.

rocket launch

from there i walked just down the beach a few minutes to an entirely different celebration. our affluent and very well-connected friend 'bullet' (yes, everyone calls him this) had us over and we were greeted by a large table full of indian foods and iranian sweets brought back, no doubt, from someone's recent trip and/or layover. once we had our fill we headed up to the building's roof where we, along with a few other friends and neighbors, set off fireworks for at least two hours. we had a smattering of all varieties - slithering snakes, 'strobe lights', spinners, and of course a host of rockets and loud bombs. i had fun setting them off but even more fun playing around taking pictures. kristen, and the 5 year old neighbor's son, were skeptical at first but eventually got into it, trying to see what and how many they could set off next. in between our own firework fun, of course, there were the sights and sounds of crackers being set off all around us. we were told it was much less than in past years, but to us it still sounded like artillery shells being set off all around us. it's dissipated somewhat, in the days since, but there are still the occasional kabooms that momentarily make us think we're in a civil war zone.

so there you have it! a successful diwali, i would say. may you and your loved ones be blessed with peace and prosperity in the new year. and all that stuff.

mumbai movie mania

2011-10-21T00:03:00.008-05:00

well after all this travel it feels really good to get back into the city and stay put for a while. at last i've been able to feel settled in my place - i've found a tailor, got myself a pressure cooker.. things are starting to come together. i was also glad to be back in town in time for the mumbai film festival! at home i'm something of a movie junkie (except in richmond - which has an appalling lack of art theaters, especially for all the art students and hipsters it has) and i try to see interesting ones when time and budget allows.

the mumbai film festival, now in its 13th year, has become pretty big and internationally respected. this year it boasted 200 films from all over the world. and, being in india, it's also probably one of the more affordable film fests to attend (i was able to get a student pass - unlimited movies for 7 days for Rs 700 = $15). also, being in india, it was probably one of the more crowded film festivals. the lines for some of the highly anticipated films were over two hours! but perhaps this is normal at film festivals; i don't have much of a frame of reference here.

i thoroughly enjoyed being a part of this event and tried to make the most of my pass (though it was a pretty busy week). i ended up seeing some wonderful films that i thought i would share. it's true, this is perhaps not very travel-related. buut, it's my blog so too bad. if you're not interested in movies, read no further.

panther panchali (india, bengali)
the film festival had a nice mix of new movies and classics films, both indian and international. i took the chance to see the first of satyajit ray's monumental apu series on a big screen. and in style, i might add. this was in the director's gold theater, which meant everyone sat in their own armchair. i'm talking lazyboy-style recliner here, with a footrest and everything. but i'm getting off track. it is a satyajit ray film, so it's definitively in the category of 'art film'. as such it may often be described as slow or boring. but what he's done with point of view - telling the story through the eyes of little apu - and the subject matter (rural poverty) he brought to the fore, was groundbreaking. a great way to kick off my film fest experience, with a little indian film history.

deool (india, marathi)
the image for this film doesn't do it justice. (i might add, though it should be obvious, that the images here aren't mine. i mention this primarily because i generally like to use only my own images) though i suppose it does portray the dichotomy at work in the town. some people would dismiss this film out of hand because it's in marathi. but i don't think the language was chosen to be regionalistic or exclusionary, but rather for a sense of authenticity. the movie takes place in a village in maharashtra - a setting which contemporary indian films have largely strayed from. the film itself is really about breaking down and subverting typical stereotypes of indian villages as well as exploring the nature of religion and commercialism today. this is particularly poignant in the character of kesha (no dollar sign), a good but simple man who struggles with these ideas within himself. a wonderful film and thoroughly entertaining - with plenty of laughs and even a few item numbers. it releases in november in india - go check it out!

labrador/out of bounds (denmark, danish)
this movie wasn't my first choice. or even my second, actually. the lines for 'the artist' (showing on two screens!) proved too long and 'chinese take out' was rescheduled so i ended up seeing this movie without being entirely sure what to expect. but it was actually about what one might expect from a typical 'artsy' film. slow, pensive and rather bleak in both setting and subject. i think this film could best be encapsulated as an exploration of identity, with each of the three characters isolated on a tiny scandinavian island grappling with themselves and their relationships to one another. it took an odd turn that was sort of unsettling but i'm guessing the director intended this turn of events to startle the viewer and expose the extremes and complexities of human desire.

arranged happiness (germany, kashmiri/english)
there seems to be no end to movies that deal with the notion of arranged marriages. it's a topic that evidently still fascinates the west and this director created a personal documentary in attempts to better understand and explain the phenomenon on a closer level. the film dealt with the proposed marriage of the director's then-boyfriend's (now husband's) sister to a neighboring family in kashmir. it chronicled this entire process while also examining the director's relationship to ashiq, the bride's sister and how their relationship is played out (largely in secret) with the family. it's an interesting and intimate look at the process of marriage and one that is refreshingly apolitical. i didn't find the editing or cinematography of the film particularly outstanding but the story itself unfolds nicely and has some pleasant images.

toast (UK, english)
what a lovely film. and one that further corroborates my theory that all movies starring young british boys are delightful (see also: millions, son of rambow, finding neverland, about a boy, etc etc). the premise itself is charming, a10-year old boy who yearns for all things gourmet but, in the character's own words, 'has never eaten a vegetable that didn't come from a can'. his passion for food plays out throughout the more troubling events in his life (helena bonham carter plays a sort of wicked stepmother) and becomes a source of joy in an increasingly bleak existence. the movie ends on a high note and leaves a good taste in your mouth, so to speak.

stanley ka dabba (india, hindi)
back to back movies about food. warning: don't watch this movie if you're hungry! (and happen to love indian food) every conceivable type of food and snack is represented here (yes even vada pav - it was filmed in mumbai after all). the film was a heartwarming story of stanley, an incredibly adorable child. one of those 'unfortunates with a heart of gold' types. you don't learn stanley's whole story right away, but you're drawn to his good natured ways and clever charm. the film shows one side of the inequalities of society without being over the top dramatic or utterly devastating. this film will certainly put a smile on your face and a growl in your stomach.

breakfast, lunch, dinner (china/ thailand/singapore, mandarin/thai/malay)
this film, oddly, had little to do with food at all. in reality it was three films, all asian in origin, that happened to include different meals. the stories also shared the common thread of marriage, which was addressed in very different ways. the films, having different directors, naturally had individual narrative styles. but they all seemed to share a sense of loneliness - whether it was in a bleak deserted chinese park in winter, or the hauntingly empty streets of singapore by night. i think each film really addressed that notion on a metaphysical level as well - the idea of being alone with someone else and how the concept of marriage fits into that. each of the films made use of very long shots of simple actions (or little action at all) which could have bordered on the tedious but i thought the technique was effective as a means of getting the audience to totally feel a part of that setting. not a power punch of a film but a quiet meditation on what it means to be alone and together.

habemus papum (italy, italian)
i was totally intrigued by the storyline here: a behind-the-scenes look (well, interpretation - it's fictional) at the selection of a new pope. i thought the story would end with the selection itself but in reality that's just where the story began. with moments of humor and little winks of tongue in cheek satire the film addresses the intersection between holy and divine that the pope must necessarily negotiate. i'd love to get some of my catholic friends' perspective on the film as well. tragically, i had to leave this film early to catch the artist (having waited for 30 minutes in line and still missed it before. and i should add that this film screening began 30 minutes late so that threw me off) but i really would love to see the end of it as it seems like the director was building to something particularly poignant.

the artist (france, english)
as i alluded to earlier, this film was probably the cornerstone of the film festival (images of it adorned much of the festival's publications) and easily one of the most - if not the most - highly anticipated film. and it was well worth the wait! like many before it, this film is an homage to the movies themselves. a silent film, it deals with the beginning of the golden age of film and the shift to talkies. think of a cross between 'singin' in the rain' and 'sunset boulevard'. the film was made beautifully and the casting was absolutely spot on. the protagonist, george valentin, seemed to be a mix of (appropriately) rudolph valentino and gene kelly. it was refreshing that this film got the attention it did. in a festival full of movies that try to push boundaries and to, in some cases, be edgy for the sake of being edgy, it was nice to see a sweet, simple film that honored the idea of entertainment itself and reminded us why we were all there in the first place.

pina (germany, various)
along with 'the artist' was perhaps the other most anticipated film showing at the festival (though lars von trier's 'melancholia' was a popular draw as well). and not just because it was in 3D. the film was an homage to the late pina bausch, a monumental german dancer and choreographer who died in 2009. though i hadn't heard of her before this film, the impact of her work was made clear not only through her work but by the devotion and admiration of her dancers. pina herself was evidently somewhat reclusive and so the film unravels largely through performances interspersed with statements from the dancers themselves. the dances were visually stunning, provocative and cerebral, meditating on ideas of the cycle of life and gender in society (at least that's what i got!) the performances themselves were enhanced with a thoughtful use of 3D technology (not this gratuitous crap we get in hollywood. justin bieber 3D, really?). plus i'm always interested to see how people interpret the seminal 'rite of spring'. though i would have liked to see more of pina herself performing, it's clear that her legacy really lives on in the dancers she's trained and the spirit of the dances she has created. a visually stunning film to end my festival experience.

all in all, despite some issues (technical problems with films, overcrowding and crazy lines) i thoroughly enjoyed the film festival. i wished i could have seen more movies but i think i still made the most of the pass within my means. furthermore, i walked out of every film with that sensation of 'where am i..?', an indication of the transportive (it's a word, i checked) power of the medium itself.

durga puja step by step

2011-10-09T08:40:00.004-05:00

i thought i'd give a little breakdown of how things seem to work at durga puja - or what i experienced of it. so here goes.

the deities are created with clay and then painted and adorned..

you can take a traditional rickshaw ride through the old city to get to some of the more traditional pandals

be prepared for crowds! everyone in the city seems to be out pandal-hopping

if you're feeling so inclined.. grab yourself some noisemakers! they're everywhere

priests are often up on the platform with the deities giving offerings

sometimes the priests offer up aarti, and people clamor for the holy fire

after taking darshan, worshipers can receive tikas, as this family does

when it's time to take the deity down for an immersion in the ganges, drums are essential

final offerings given to maa durga, accompanied by drums and a sort of trance-like dance

food offered to the deity

on the final day women's faces are often streaked with vermilion and many of them wear red.

a final touch for maa durga

there's always room for a little dancing!

and then the men carry her and the holy family away

a crowd follows the deity up to the waterfront

splash! into the ganges

one happy camper carts off a used pandal. and the cycle continues...

craziness. chaos. calcutta.

2011-10-08T07:27:00.004-05:00

in keeping with my whirlwind traveling style, i headed straight from ahmedabad to calcutta, mid-navratri. in fewer than two hours i had essentially traversed the country from west to east. (by plane, obviously, though i'll bet that's an epic train trip). it occurred to me at some point that morning that i hadn't really made any arrangements at all for this city i was suddenly in. i had a momentary rush of panic, which quickly subsided into dead-to-the-world sleep on the flight.

luckily, things worked out. as they have tended to for me here. i admit this is principally due to the friendly nature of the people here and the few connections i've managed to forge. i luckily found a place to stay that happened to be in the thick of all the activity, way down south near some of the bigger pandals. this was convenient in some ways (walking to pandals) but not in others (traffiiiic). the place itself.. not exactly the ritz but the price was right and it had rooms available. plus, why bring your own sheets if you never get to use them, right?

chai in little clay cups. i love it!

that night i wandered around dazed, confused by all the commotion happening around me and disoriented in this giant new city i found myself in. i wandered in and out of some nearby pandals which, by the way, are structures built to house the deities for the days of worship and veneration. apparently the last three nights of the nine are the biggest here, with elaborate light shows and loud pujas during the night. as the light began to fade i could see i had not been misinformed - the giant light displays (picture giant lite-brites) of faces and flowers lit up the alleys and the crowds got even heavier. as for myself, i popped into a few sari shops (got a beautiful silk one on sale!) and retired to my hotel room with a chicken roll and some sweets. it was a long day, alright?

the next day began the start of my whirlwind pandal-tour in earnest. i was fortunate enough to have a wonderful guide in my friend's brother souvik. he and his friends guided us all over the city, sometimes walking, sometimes jamming ourselves into rickshaws or cabs. and it was hot. i can't remember ever being so thirsty (although i'm sure i have been.. italy in july, rajasthan in may..) - just constantly thinking about when i could get water next and how cold it would be. but i digress.

the pandals! also known as pujas. they. are. humungous. if i thought the ganpati pandals in mumbai were elaborate, these were just over the top insanity. in mumbai, the pandals may have had rather decorated interiors in the immediate area surrounding the deity. but the exteriors themselves were largely just tarps or perhaps even just an opening for a door. not so in calcutta. the exteriors were as enormous as they were elaborate - towering structures that you had to remind yourself were, indeed, just temporary. at times it felt a little like being at disneyworld. all these 'fake' environments created. like walking around epcot. but instead of 'italy' and 'japan' you encountered different types of durgas. very surreal.

over the years the pandals have grown more elaborate - thanks in part to the competitions and prizes that are now awarded - and have developed themes that change from year to year. the themes seemed to range from materials (straw, glass, rope, clay - one made entirely out of aluminum kitchenware) to larger messages. (one of the biggest ones' was 'global warming' - i thought it best not to point out how many trees and bamboo shoots had been sacrificed to get that particular message across). here are just a sampling of the variety we saw:

durga visible through the straw and bamboo

all ceramic durga, quite stylized i must say

typical yellow maa durga in her aluminum foil surroundings

a very trippy prismatic effect at the 'glass puja'

this is just a smattering of the incredible variety of pandals that we saw throughout the city. and of course we only scratched the surface here. there are hundreds (thousands?) of these throughout the city and even three full days was not enough to cover it. it was completely exhausting but incredible to witness.

around a'bad

2011-10-04T14:13:00.000-05:00

well while the principle reason for this visit to ahmedabad was navratri, it's pretty much relegated to nighttime (aside from the requisite shopping theretofore). so the days were filled (when not shopping) with seeing the sights and sites of the city. i had seen most of the old city the last time i had visited, all the main mosques and whatnot.. or so i thought! i was tipped on to the heritage walk by multiple people until finally i thought i should see it for myself.

i'm so glad i did! not for the guided tour - which i confess i heard almost none of. but because it allowed for fantastic (and city-sanctioned) wandering around the picturesque 'pols' (areas) of the old town. my roommate and i got left behind several times taking pictures, but that suited us just fine. below are a sampling of my photographic exploits in those two hours.


decorations for navratri, shiny of course

beautifully carved window boxes

sleepy dog waits for the morning sun to reach him (or for someone to open the door)

a many-headed horse inside a temple

makes you wonder what's back there, doesn't it?

mmm, garbage!

the ever-present talisman

that is one dusty bike..

as kristen put it, 'all the colors are so perfect!'


just when we thought it couldn't get more photo-worthy.. PUPPIES!

stylized wall


typical: bull, scooter, door

wonderful colors

old details

speedy little chipmunk

and here we have another picture of someone else's laundry

typical intersection

there's a goofy postcard caption in here somewhere..

an intriguing doorway

what a sweet smile!

old town scene

morning stretch

how fresh is your mouth?

last stop.. a renovated haveli

ahmedabad - a gem of a city!

garba galore..

2011-10-03T04:56:00.024-05:00

so the real reason i came to ahmedabad (although buying textiles was pretty high up there..) was for navratri, which is sometimes called the biggest dance festival in the world. it's nine straight nights of dancing - all over the city, on all scales. the dancing ranges from street garba to societies (sort of like gated communities) to the giant clubs that put on all-out productions with live music on stage and expensive lighting. on this trip we tried to hit them all.

first off.. club garba..

twirling

our first introduction to all that is garba was at the rajpath club (read: fancy). this ended up being a crash course. we wore our variously borrowed and purchased chaniya choli and bedecked ourselves in things that glittered and jingled. good thing, too, because we were probably the least adorned people there (as if we don't stand out enough). to say they were decked out does not come close. i'd say the average person there was probably wearing close to 8 pounds of fabric, embroidery, mirrors, bells, sequins, tassles, and let't not forget makeup. all tied together with a few strategic safety pins. but that did not stop them from moving. as soon as our friends (well my friend's friends from garba class. yes, class) arrived they formed circle, put their shoes in the middle, and jumped right in.

so coordinated (in more ways than one)

let me tell you, that was some complicated garba. there were many more than the two steps i had been briefly taught. and then they kept changing them! these people were going pretty fast too, definitely working up a sweat (though, in fairness, not difficult with the lights and 15 pounds of material they were under). kristen and i tried our best not to run into people (did i mention they were constantly switching directions?!) for a while but eventually gave up in favor of watching and documenting. we wandered all over taking pictures and videos of all sorts of groups - the most impressive was probably this one troupe - matching outfits and all - that had all sorts of choreographed routines, including, variously, men balancing umbrellas, little girls dancing on shoulders, and what looked to be mini dance-offs.

even the kids are impressive with the dandiya!

we saw all kinds of dances - with twirling umbrellas, throwing sticks (dandiya is the kind with the sticks, i believe) into the air (and, yes, catching them), and little kids getting into the mix. i think it would best be described as a spectacle. eventually kristen and i meandered back to our group where they themselves had moved on to the sequined umbrellas. we were ceremoniously pushed into the crowd and umbrellas were thrust at us. we were made to do a step that involved minimal twirling and stepping, thankfully something we could handle. we did this in various directions as photos and videos were taken around us. luckily that seemed to be enough to assuage the circle and we slipped out of the spotlight with our dignity more or less intact. we slipped out of the festivities not long after, though our friend did stay to be honored as the 'best foreign dancer' - very sweet. as we were speeding home in our auto afterward, chugging water and glad to be seated, my main thought was 'how do these people do this for nine nights?!'

i got my answer shortly, once we experienced society garba..

the closest i got to street garba. my feet did get pretty dirty!

so many of the neighborhoods in ahmedabad are comprised of societies that seem to vary in size and level of affluence. i'm sure their celebrations vary similarly but i only saw a few examples. in general they seem to be much more tame affairs, with one big circle, a few musicians and pretty slow, simple music. the dress code seems to be much more relaxed - some fully decked out in chaniya choli, others in salwar kameez and some just in western attire. and, best of all, the steps are much more limited. one direction, one half turn, same basic idea throughout. i can handle this! i'm glad to say i caught on to this one rather quickly and quite enjoyed it. i could see myself doing this for nine nights. although going in circles does eventually get tiresome..

street garba..

..it seems, is more of the same, just outside the confines of a society. the dance is done around a pot (society ones seem to be also) and other items for the deity. i've heard talk of women with pots on heads dancing, unfortunately i didn't get to see much of this variety.

but we also experienced what i'm calling university garba..

a variety of attire for this garba affair

as the name may suggest, we experienced this one at one of the local universities. most universities have various events throughout the festival but we were told by several people that the one at CEPT (environmental planning and technology) was particularly good. it must have been because there was quite a clamor to get in. i'm not sure how we did - persistence, maybe - but regardless. here once again the dress and attitude was varied - all kinds of clothing. the dancing seemed to be more or less the same slow, steady pace with half turns every other beat. there were two large circles and what we were first struck by was that no one was really smiling all that much. i mean, i suppose all that going in circles must get to you eventually. although, to be fair, this was punctuated about every 5 minutes by a big 'woooo' that went through the crowd. we're still not sure why. nothing else seemed to happen. probably the best part of this experience for me was the decorations, though i'm sure that had to do more with it being a school for architects. there were all sorts of lanterns made from little more than cut paper or cardboard. really well done.

i'm sure this is by no means an exhaustive list of the types of garba one can see - just what i experienced in a few days. i mean, after all, it was the biggest dance festival in the world.

garba garb, and other textile tales

2011-10-01T04:46:00.000-05:00

it's always interesting to go back to a place you've been before. some things are just as you remembered, while others seem to have changed completely. the last time i was in ahmedbad it was this past january, sadly just after uttarayan (the kite festival). remnants of kites were littered in the trees and power lines, and there were a few kids here and there playing but nothing like the big festival i've heard of.

how to choose?

this time around it was navratri - the festival of nine nights, which is also considered to be the biggest dance festival in the world. so when i strolled around the familiar sights of the old city.. the jama masjid, manek chowk.. the landscape seemed slightly altered. the piles of mouth fresheners and dried fruits remained but were overwhelmed by rows of dangling silver necklaces, small clothes with shiny tinsel fringe, and meters upon meters of fabric covered in embroidery, beads, mirrors, tassels, shells, bells - anything eye-catching and loud (literally or figuratively). the law garden (another shopping area) was more of the same. sequined umbrellas, sparkling dandiya sticks and fabric that was wall-to-wall glitz. i'm told gujaratis have a particular flair for all things glittery.. i would be inclined to believe that.

everything sparkles.. even the sticks

so these chaniya choli, worn for the dancing i mentioned, consist of a long skirt, short bodice-type top and a long scarf. and they are everywhere. the shopping area i remember looked completely transformed. it was hard to find anything but these outfits. (though that didn't stop me from buying about a dozen types of fabric.. it is the city of textiles, after all. more on that later.) i did end up getting myself a chaniya choli as well. 'when in rome' and all that sort of thing..

stalls at the law garden. can you spot the person?

going about finding one of these was harder than expected, considering i was literally surrounded by them. the general mentality with these items seem to be the more, the better. sequins? good. mirrors? great. tassels? sure, why not! as for color, well if you were hoping for something monotone, you've come to the wrong place. while i think these crazy, busy, shiny designs look fabulous on other people and are certainly wonderful for dancing in, i'm not so sure i could pull it off (or carry it home..) so me looking for something 'simple' (ha) was something of a wild goose chase. then there was price to consider. i tried to be sure i was getting a good deal (it helps to listen to the prices locals are quoted). in the end, i found one i liked for a reasonable price. it still had beads and shells but it was only two colors, one of which was somewhat muted. and, hey, it still twirled and made noise. success.

i also managed to find some regular textile shops in the middle of all this madness. i saw a few materials and was directed up a narrow flight of wooden steps with a hanging knotted rope for a banister. my rewards at the top was a room filled with piles and piles of fabrics of all kinds. solids, prints - wood block, batik, bordered. it was heavenly - i took my time and leisurely chose some prints and matching solids for pants. i bought a few the first day and came back (after shopping around a bit) another day for more. who knows when i'll be in gujarat again! i even found some pretty striped silk to have some pillows made. now all that's left is to find a tailor..

and now, for something completely different..

the textile museum. it's an experience in itself. the rules are many and hardfast. my first introduction to this was last winter, when i tried to visit the museum at 1.30. silly me. you can only visit the museum at 10.15. if you have a reservation. and leave your camera and phone at the front gate

the grounds and buildings themselves are beautiful - apparently the property once belonged to the wealthiest family in ahmedabad. you'll have to take my word for it (as of course i have no pictures) but the grounds are lush and shady, with plenty of palm trees, flowering plants and small ponds. the houses themselves are gorgeous, with beautifully carved wooden window boxes and elaborate brackets. the collection itself is vast - and even more impressive. saris, turbans, tents, wall hangings - from all over india. in all different styles, techniques, and colors (thought there was a lot of red and gold). the tour itself was another story. the guide (whose reputation precedes her across the city) was insistent that everyone stay together and not dawdle and her explanations seemed to be muddled. mostly what i got out of each one was the geographic origin and maybe the use of the textiles in that room. at the end we were told to wait so we could go as a group to the next section to see the tools. we wanted to duck out and go to the store, which we did with some difficulty, only to discover that the dozens of postcards that line the walls are no longer in stock.

at any rate, ahmedabad certainly lived up to its monicker as the city of textiles. the landscape and experience of the city during navratri was a sight to behold. maybe next time i'll make it for uttaryan...

heavenly hosts

2011-09-22T06:13:00.025-05:00

i have to take a minute to say a word about the people of kerala. they are incredibly hospitable. this is not to say that all indians are not - certainly they are. but it's just that bombay is a big, busy city and people tend to leave you alone (which is usually appreciated). but in kerala.. people bend over backwards (sometimes literally - if you're in a bus, say) to help you out and make sure you're alright. what proof of this do i have, you say? i'm so glad you asked.

gauri laughing

exhibit a: i stayed with my (now) friend rekha for four nights in thrissur. i say now friend because i hadn't even met her until a few weeks ago. she's a friend of a friend of a friend i met in richmond but we began corresponding by email and over the weeks and months and eventually we met in kerala. unfortunately circumstances had changed over time and by the time i arrived her father was very ill and had just been discharged from the hospital. this made me feel awful being there and rekha feel guilty for not showing me around during onam. somehow we made the best of the situation and even managed to have some fun despite it all - trading spanish and hindi lessons or discussing bollywood movies. i was welcomed by her family and greeted immediately by her niece with a big smile and a 'glenna chechi!' (chechi = sister) in between it all i was taken to various onam events around town - including one where i was honored as their special guest and given a gift. when i left i really did feel like part of the family

exhibit b: in traveling around kerala i've been on my share of transportation (trains, car, buses, boats, rickshaws..) the most daunting of these is surely the bus, due in no small part to the names and numbers written in incomprehensible malayalam squiggles (which look to me something like 'MMWLCM'). yet every time i found myself at a bus stand i asked an attendant, or failing that, a random person how to get to a city i was told exactly what bus to get on and, usually, the next stop (invariably something long starting with a 'k') where i'd have to get down and transfer. once i talked to a friendly family with two small adorably sleepy children who, after getting down at one stop, asked around and put me on a rickshaw to the other bus stand nearby so i wouldn't have to wait 50 minutes for the bus where we were.

the hills outside kottayam

exhibit c: i arrived in kottayam and was urged to meet with a friend of rekha's. you remember, the girl i had met only a week before. she assured me that her friend jennifer would help me out. sure enough, she and her father met me at the bus stand and asked what i'd like to see in the city (i was staying with them, that much was explicitly understood). i said that i was interested in seeing the churches and, in passing, mentioned that i had heard there was a waterfall not too far that i had hoped to see. before i knew it, we were on the road towards thekkady, passing through rolling hills and deep green valleys. and hour and a half later, we reached the waterfall, enjoyed for a few moments, and then a rainbow greeted us on our way back. that night after returning to kottayam the driver dutifully took us to all the main churches in kottayam so i could see them.

the next day i spent at their beautiful home. while i would have elected to do this, i didn't really have a choice. see, that day kerala was on strike. literally. the transportation in all of kerala came to a halt - no buses, trains, motorcycles, autos - nothing. the logistics of that alone boggles the mind. can you imagine anyone trying to orchestrate a strike like that in virginia? impossible. at any rate we spent the day watching tv, eating sweets and walking through the rubber tree plantations that populate the area.

exhibit d: i went to calicut for two reasons, chief among them being that my flight left from there. the secondary reason i went was to see a professor - a colleague of my advisor's who's the head of the folklore department in the university. well what with hours of bus rides i didn't arrive in the city until just after 5pm. i was told that professor varmaraja had just left but within minutes i was put on the phone with him, and about ten minutes after that i was in his car on the way to his house. i was treated to dinner in his home - dosas, pickles, maggi, banana chips (of course), and any other snacks they could find - and given a tour of their home. (highlights: the indoor swing, the verandah over the jasmine bushes, and playing with their harmonizer - like an indian accordion)


(see what i mean about the alphabet?)

as if this was not enough they took me into town later that evening. at 8 we left to see the city (pretty unheard of in kerala, since things tend to shut down after dark) i was given the option to see the 'giant wheel' - which turned out to be a ferris wheel. much smaller than hours but a heck of a lot faster. my stomach felt like it dropped out with every revolution. when i and their 14-year old son got down it was announced: 'we will go to a movie'. my protestations fell on deaf ears and i was carted along to my first movie in india - in malayalam. 'it will be an experience', i was told. well that was true enough. not surprisingly, the 3 words i learned in malayalam (that would be 'hello', 'thank you' and 'water') did me very little good. i was still able to follow the story since it was so simple and over-acted. it seems i got the authentic mallu movie experience - complete with brief power outage (immediately followed by a din of whooping from the audience below), goofy fight scenes with super-cheesy sound effects and an intermission where more snacks were forced upon me. after the movie it was decided 'we will go for ice cream'. no matter that it was nearly midnight and i was stuffed to capacity. a mixed fruit falooda was ordered for me (ice cream with little noodles, i suppose is the best way to describe it) and somehow i managed to eat the whole thing. after all this they still insisted on driving me to the airport in the morning, even stopping for banana chips along the way. a wonderful ending to my journey in kerala and yet another example of the peoples' generous nature.

i suppose i shouldn't be surprised. after all, kerala is 'god's own country'. and in india, 'guest is god'.

journey to the end of the world

2011-09-20T06:13:00.003-05:00

it was tough to cut short my time in varkala - between the warm sunny beaches, cheap and plentiful ayurvedic massages and abundant seafood, i'm sure i could have stayed for several days. but it was not to be. i had places to see in my remaining days in kerala. although actually my next destination lay outside the state itself.

kanyakumari is not a big tourist destination for foreigners. but as for indians, well you can probably find nationals from all over the country here. i think there must be something romantic about being at the very tip of the country, being exactly where the giant nation comes down to one single point. it's this dramatic notion, i suppose, that has led to the tradition of people watching the sunrise. (it's said that from here you can both watch the sun rise and set over the same waters - though in actual practice one has to travel a bit to achieve this.) so, as any good tourist, i dutifully roused myself at 5.30 and made my way down to the water, wandering through winding streets of fishermen's homes.

there were already people gathered to get a spot along the sea wall for the sunrise. as with any gathering of people in this country, there were of course people trying to sell things. 'chai coffee' 'seashells' 'postcards pictures'. the skies were just starting to get light but i passed the time watching the spectacle of indian men clambering down over the rocks to get their pictures taken while being splashed by the sporadic waves.

the morning did end up being a wonderful one - well worth waking up and roaming around bleary-eyed and un-showered. there was something about being one of the first to see the sun come up over all of india that just felt somehow meaningful. then there was the added bonus of the beautiful golden early morning sunlight. i delighted in wandering among all the colorful boats with their ropes, nets and paint peeling in that wonderful way that's just so photographable. at the same time fishermen were busy untangling their nets, hauling in their first catches of the day and setting out to sea.

i think my pictures from this morning capture the scene much better than my words can so i'll just leave it at that and give you this photo-log instead.

first view of the harbor before dawn

water before the sunrise

crashing waves

there it is!

orange glow of the sun over the arabian sea

fishing nets all bundled

studies in texture.. rope wood and sand

kanyakumari in the distance

colors

good place to perch

the golden light really makes these colors pop

first catch of the day

seaworthy vessel

high saturation

into the sun

the eyes have it.. by a nose

fishermen preparing their boats

fishing net or seaweed?

photo?

boats in the rising sun

rows of boats

a colorful harbor

walking out on the rocks, looking back at the harbor

the very tip of india

water, water everywhere

2011-09-19T06:05:00.003-05:00

a canal too small even for our little canoe

alleppey is thought to be one of the better (or at least better-known) spots to explore the backwaters of kerala. though i only had essentially half a day there i thought i'd make the most of it by taking a boat ride. since these people are in the business of boats - they have them in spades. any shape, size or price range you could imagine. there's even an 8-hour commuter ferry that goes all the way to kovalam (about 8 hours away) for just a few hundred rupees. then of course there are the extravagant honeymoon houseboats that come with all amenities, including on-board staff. i opted for the lower end of the spectrum (surprise surprise) and since i was by myself a canoe ride seemed like the best option anyway. it was small but quite cozy, and had a small covering which was appreciated especially as the first hour of my trip was rather drizzly.

colors of the backwaters

we spent the early part of the three hours on a larger part of the river but as the skies began to clear and time went on we moved in to the smaller canals and could see life on the river up close. as we floated by we could see coconut trees, pretty little pastel houses, roosters crowing and people out to wash their clothes on the rocks. it was a lovely little ride, peppered with sights like lilypads, boats carved and colorful and even a few kingfishers (what a pretty bird). the ride was relaxing - just what i needed after a few hectic days, and i even got to row, which i really enjoyed. my guide/personal rower asked no less than four time "are you happy?" i must answered unconvincingly. but after a few hours on the water in alleppey, yes, i was quite content.

that day it was on to varkala. alright, full disclosure: this was not one of my finer travel ventures. but i'll tell you the whole story anyway, whoever's actually reading this, that is. i intended to take a train to varkala despite being told it was 'always late'. come to find out, i should have inquired as to how late it would be. i got to the train station and was told it would be 4.30 instead of 3.30. this quickly turned into 5.30. at that point i figured i'd be getting into varkala too late (it gets dark early down south!) and figured i'd just take the bus since it would leave right away.

so after losing 20 rs. for refunding my ticket, i took a local bus back to the bus stand (where i had just been, i might add). from there i had to take not one bus, but three, ending me up in varkala long past when the train would have deposited me. lessons learned: when people say 'that train is always late,' ask them how late. and when people say 'the train will be better for you,' they're probably right.

rocks and cliffs of varkala

so i arrived into varkala feeling rather exhausted and jaded but luckily found my hotel easily enough. i was delighted to find a tidy little room that had clean sheets, towels, and toilet paper. amazing! i was even more delighted the next morning to discover that i had chosen a beautiful little spot to stay. i chose the city because it was on the coast and situated in a little cove between two cliffs. the cliff - just a few meters' walk from my hotel - was picturesque and the view was just breathtaking. exactly what i needed after the long day of travel before.

shiny wet rocks and sea weeds

of course i wasn't the first one to discover this little bastion and it was immediately clear that this was a popular tourist haunt. as if the tibetan good shops and ubiquitous ali baba pants (calling all hippies) weren't enough - there were continental restaurants boasting waffles (i resisted) and blasting bob marley. i meandered through the shops without buying toooo much but did have two meals with a view of the sea. there's something about eating overlooking the sea that's always sort of magical. and for the first time i felt like i was on vacation, rather than of just traveling.

crashing waves cover the entire shore

i did get a closer look at the water, too. i walked down one of the several sets of steps that lead down to the shore. the tide must have been coming in because the strip of shoreline was rather narrow. throughout the sands were red, craggy rocks overgrown with slimy algae, along with shiny shells and scaly fish. they say the riptide in kerala is intense and claims several people each year. just watching those waves crashing violently against the rocks, i'm inclined to believe them. so although it was a beautiful sunny day (the first after a week of rain, i was told) though i did manage to get my skirt thoroughly soaked while taking a picture. so i suppose you old say i was in the arabian sea.

i guess you can't go to kerala without experiencing the waters firsthand.

so you're going to a boat race..

2011-09-17T23:06:00.002-05:00

despite my rather limited experience (two snake boat races does not a veteran make, i suppose) i thought i would pass on my small bit of wisdom for those of you who may find yourself attending a boat race in kerala in the future.

come early


if you don't get a seat this is where you may end up.

as with most events in india, these boat races tend to attract a lot of people (a commodity of which india has no short supply). at the two races i attended, there were pavilions filled with plastic chairs that required advanced tickets (which i didn't have - but at one i knew someone who was able to get one and at the other i was let in because.. well, i'm white. sad but true). do note, though, they invariably pass out more tickets than there are chairs so it pays to get there early and claim your spot so you don't end up sitting on the steps or outside on the muddy grass nearby. coming early - as in 3 or 4 hours, ideally, leads me right in to my second tip...

be prepared to wait

so you've claimed your plastic chair and have chosen your spot strategically (view of finish line is key). great. now get ready to wait. i learned this lesson the hard way the first time and so spent my time chatting with the kids around me. not altogether a bad alternative. but bringing a book the second time around was crucial.

as with any important onam celebration, these events are always surrounded by a big fanfare. which means local politicians (lots of 'em). which means about 14 men who really like to hear themselves talk. and unless you understand malayalam, this is going to be quite dull. (though i imagine even if you understand malayalam it's not much more enthralling.)

don't miss the pre-show

colorful chhatris (umbrellas) and a lot of dead weight

not that you could, really. the boats make a big deal of 'processing' (i guess boats can 'process') back and forth across the river - showing off their enthusiasm (chanting a rhythm that will undoubtedly be blasted/shouted/repeated endlessly throughout the day), beating drums, and twirling their fancy umbrellas. this is a great time to see the boats up close and note all the decorations that adorn them. later on the boats are farther away, in their respective lanes, and have jettisoned the decorative elements - and probably a few of the less crucial people - to be more competitive.

staying sane

boats processing in all their finery

you've already started on this by bringing a book, or other form of entertainment. but just be aware that in addition to the hours of waiting there will be plenty of other annoyances that are likely to drive you up a wall. the chanting i mentioned is probably chief among these. the chant is meant to keep the boatmen in stroke, and it's certainly a successful way to do so. however it also serves as a sort of rallying cry for all of the rowers as well as onlookers. i, for example, was awoken that morning (quite early) by this chant being blasted from speakers about a block away. and it basically went on uninterrupted until well into the evening.

there are also likely to be other little annoyances that are inevitable in large groups of people. old men nearby who insist on spreading out to occupy as much space as possible... small children who can't whistle and try shrieking at an obscenely high decibel instead... a whiny toddler who continues to be shuffled back and forth between rows crying alternately for his father/mother.. you know, for example.

get excited

sweet victory

the boat races themselves happen pretty fast. though there can be a lot of wait time, it seems like the bigger races have gotten pretty good about spacing the races themselves quickly. there may be as many as three going on at a time, stretched out along the course. (kind of like kids going down a water slide) it's easy to tell when the local boats are coming through (and in the run for first) because the crowds will cheer. so get up and try to get a view of the finish line. (this is the time to pull out your zoom lens if you happened to remember to bring one.. sigh)

don't wait until the bitter end

the boat races themselves wrap up in a pretty timely manner, with semifinals and finals that have a pretty quick turnaround time. but the celebrations seem to go on and on. the winning boats make their final lap, eliciting cheers from the audience, and then are asked to come up on stage where some higher ups give out trophies and the boatmen begin their celebrations anew. i saw a few of the boatment return, cheered along with the crowds, and then got out of there. it's just more of the same and if you've seen it once you've pretty much seen it all.

enjoy!

so, there you have it. a guide to enjoying your next boat race in kerala.

dances and tigers and bananas, oh my!

2011-09-14T01:30:00.009-05:00

from cochin i took a train to thrissur (also called trichur.. every city here has at least two names) to meet a friend of a friend i'd been talking to for months but never actually met. rekha turned out to be a fabulous host despite having to look after an ailing father. despite the odd situation (me feeling bad for being there at all, her feeling bad she couldn't show me more) we had a great time exchanging hindi and spanish lessons, playing with/breaking up fights between her nieces and nephews and discussing all the great places to go in bombay. her family filled me to the brim with keralan food, naturally - piles of rice, heaping spoonfuls of sambar, lots of fluffy idli and of course more bananas (boiled, fried, chips) than i've ever had in my life.

pookkalam for onam

in between all this eating and playing i managed to see a bit of thrissur and some of the festivities of onam as well. thrissur is, it's said, the cultural capital of kerala, after all. the first day we walked around the neighborhood, noting the pookkalam (designs of flower petals) and (()) gracing thresholds to welcome lord mahabali. we then discovered (from the milkman) that there was a boat race one day so it was decided i should go. the boat race itself, of which there are many throughout the state in the month leading up to onam, i discovered, consists principally of waiting rather than watching. in the hours preceding the event i watched as foreigners were moved up to the front 'vvip' section while others jostled for plastic chairs. i hung back but did crawl up to the front to kneel down and take some pictures of the passing procession of boats. they weren't terrible big (most of them) or decorated but the rowing itself was fun to watch. after growing weary of squatting in front of the wooden biers, i got out of the shaded pavilion and walked through the crowds of umbrellas onto the bridge. while policemen where there shooing people to one side or the other, i managed to cross back and forth enough times to see the boats going by down below. it was a unique vantage point and made the race slightly more memorable.

ona sadhya, banana leaf and all

the following day i was taken to the community celebration of a small area called 'manipuri', which rekha assured me i was the first foreigner ever to grace. by now i've grown used to the constant staring and general fuss made over white people so i was ready for it. upon arriving at the school i was ushered to one of the front chairs (but at this point i've stopped fighting it) where i sat through, once again, speech after speech from politicians in what to me is incomprehensible malayalam. after several hours of this we were ushered over to another room where long tables had been set out in preparation for the onam sadhya, the traditional feast (often over 15 dishes) eaten on a banana leaf (easy cleanup!). delicious! after our lunch break it was back to the hall for dances. two girls performed alone, what looked to me like bharatnayam - their expressions were excellent and i was able to follow the basic stories. then another version of thiruvathirakali, the traditional onam dance performed in a circle around the lit diya. (a few times the girls' colorful silks got too close to the flames which elicited urgent 'shhh shhhs' from the onlooking mothers).

silks spinning around the lit diya

then finally, pulikali - the tiger dance (that's men painted as tigers, not live ones), and the closing of onam festivities. this event, as far as i know, only happens in thrissur and it is massive. roads are shut down hours in advance so i was dropped off in the main circle with hours to kill. having felt rather queasy all day, i passed most of the hours lying down under the shade of a large tree and attracting plenty of attention from passing park-goers. eventually i got up the strength to wander around and see where all the dances would happen. gradually i understood that the procession would be on the street itself and not inside the circle. as i sat waiting for the madness to begin i must have passed hundreds of people, mostly families entertaining kids with snacks of popcorn and popsicles and rides on the playground. i looked on as families claimed their spots along the cement wall, fathers holding up children for hours and mothers talking over a constant chorus of horns, slide whistles and squeaky toys.

finally the procession itself began - it seemed to be essentially a parade. through the designs in the cement wall i could see odd floats - with bricks, trees, and a giant octopus peppered with deities and a few men painted as tigers.
and then.. nothing.
for 20 or 30 minutes nothing at all happened, other than the crowds began to disperse into the road and people began to search for more snacks and diversions. i assumed the event was wrapping up and began to head to the street, disappointed and rather exhausted.

tiger-men shaking their big rice bellies

i asked a policeman to be sure the event had ended but he explained that, 'no, it's coming'. so i perched myself on a nearby curb and continued waiting. it's a good thing i did wait because if not i would have missed the absolute madness that ensued. by the time the procession of tigers had arrived it was nightfall but we could see the lights of the float approaching in the distance and hear the beating of the drums. the men carrying the rope (which pushed the crowds back and demarcated the tigers' territory, as it were) arrived first, sweating and grunting as they heaved the procession forward. and then.. the tigers. the men were clearly excited, having long prepared for the event. they were painted all over, save for a shiny orange loincloth - their arms, legs and chests all covered with orange and black paint. their protruding rice bellies were made to look like snouts, with ferocious looking fangs and bright red tongues. this coupled with their raucous (one might say savage) enthusiasm made it actually a rather terrifying sight. they chanted and shook their bellies to the constant rhythmic beat of the drums behind them, drawing further energy from the cheering crowds, of which i seemed to be the only female. the police and fellow men on crowd control saw this, and plucked me quickly out of the massive crowds and into the front of the procession. which not only managed to keep me safe from grabby hands but also afforded me great pictures! i'm not sure they quite capture the absolute madness, but i hope they give some impression of the general chaos.

i couldn't even say how long the event went on - after about a half hour of chanting, cheering and jiggling bellies, i headed back towards rekha's house, which i reached only after a long search for a rickshaw and an even longer ride home. my arrival, just after 9pm, was greeted with many questions. why was i so late? what took me so long? wasn't i afraid of anything traveling alone like that? i just answered with a shrug of the shoulders and big smiles.

just another of the joys of being a woman in india.

of kids and keralites

2011-09-11T09:25:00.003-05:00

my sojourn in kerala. i left with mixed feelings - excited at the prospect of a new state to explore, but a little disappointed to leave so soon after starting to feel settled in mumbai - and in the mist of ganesh chaturthi, no less, when the city's at its liveliest. still an adventure in a new place is always welcome in my book. so off i went.

a quick plane ride and in less than two hours i touched down amid acres of palm trees as far as the eye could see. i landed in cochin, and took the bus (as instructed) towards 'kokers theater' (you just never know what's going to be a landmark in this country), where i would get down. the bus ride took quite a while, crossing through all of ernakalum (the 'big city') and traversing bridges to get from one island to another. i began to get a little nervous, but sure enough the bus attendant showed me where to get down (no theater in sight) and in a few minutes i had found the homestead i had contacted the night before.

my wanderings that night were largely fruitless. i knowingly went in the opposite direction of the tourist town but, perhaps predictably, found little but small shops and locals confused at my presence. i also discovered the mosquitoes after realizing i had neglected to put on bug spray for the evening. i ate a quick fish curry in a place i eventually found nearby, all the while convinced i'd come down with dengue within the week. (update: so far, so good)

as my travel plans began to unfold i realized i'd likely be staying in cochin (really i was only in ft. kochi, the historic area) for about three days. so i decided to pace myself and take it slow. i started off at a leisurely 9:30 the next morning after renting a bike (bike meaning bicycle, not two-wheeler, which i was initially offered. oops.) from my hosts. i followed the owners' sons, who proudly trotted the bike - sorry, cycle - down the street to fill up the tires. and then i was off. i stopped for a quick breakfast of jalebis (my teeth are absolutely going to turn to mush in this country) and i was off.

what did i tell you? old doors

over the next few days i meandered all over the city, roaming here and there - stopping to take pictures, chatting with shop owners, eating wherever the food smelled best, and getting gawked at all the while. some of my favorite landscapes were in a village which i think is somewhere near jewtown (yes it's actually called this). give me any scenery that includes peeling buildings with old painted doors and i can be content for hours. or days, as this trip evidenced. i roved all through the streets and alleys, pausing every few yards for the inevitable photo, and in between dodged the potholes and uneven terrain of the variously paved and unpaved roads. (finally, all that biking through richmond is paying off!) i stopped somewhere in there for a biryani lunch, where i was quickly surrounded by about 20 men who demolished their heaping plates of steaming rice in no more than a few minutes.

typical streets of kochi

my days were peppered with sightseeing - the dutch palace (now museum - with impressive murals and other random artifacts), the synagogue (small and simple), the chinese fishing nets (not sure what the fuss is all about - i suppose it's a sight to see these big things being pulled in, though i never did). but this was peppered with frequent stops for shopping and window shopping, and chai and postcard-writing, and an hour or two spent over ice cream gazing out onto the sparkling arabian sea.

media attention

and then, my last full day in the city i wandered about in search of onam festivities. this festival, ostensibly the reason i had come to kerala when i did, is basically a celebration of the mythical lord mahabali coming to visit the people of kerala. its lost any religious associations it once had, and is celebrated universally in the region. the king is welcomed in various ways but chief of these is the making of pookalam (designs made of flower petals) in the homes. though the festival has generally been more family-oriented, it's gradually becoming more of a community event.

flowers for all at onam

this was made clear to me when i wandered into the field behind one of the churches that day, attracted by the voices on the loudspeaker and the beating of drums. songs were sung and speeches were made before the flames of the diya were lit and the giant pookkalam was begun. this was by necessity a community endeavor - the ambitious size of the design (about 20 feet square) required plenty of people to cut flowers, place them in foam and arrange them accordingly. but it was clear the event was being hailed as an international one as well. this was clear as the foreigners were rounded up (myself included) to be interviewed about this and that and later - play musical chairs (we were confused about this, but they seemed just as confused as to why we couldn't rope more visitors, all grown adults, into playing this children's game).

thiruvathira, the traditional dance of kerala

though if it weren't for all this superficial media attention, i may not have met my friend mary, who lives nearby. i could see why they chose to highlight her, as she looked beautiful with her traditional white and gold sari and long, flowing hair. we chatted at length throughout the day, i visited her house briefly in the afternoon, and in the evening our conversations and malayalam lessons included more and more of the local retinue. kids from all over the town gathered and we communicated in winks, waves and the occasional flower offering. it reminded me so much of honduras - mosquitoes, bananas and all. right down to the community dance performance attended by villagers on plastic chairs. it was a lovely day of friends and new experiences. by the end i felt totally welcomed into this new community, though i had essentially just joined it that morning.

initially i had been a little concerned that i might be lonely traveling by myself for several weeks. but it's not the first time. and i discovered you're never really alone in kerala. there's always someone willing to help you out or fill you in and, failing that, about 10 people who want to ask you where you're from and what you're doing here.

ganpati (part 3: taking it to the streets)

2011-09-05T12:45:00.007-05:00

piles and piles of tasty modak

alright, so we've seen the earliest parts of ganpati celebrations.. home pujas, public shrines.. darshan, veneration, prasad. now comes the crazy part.

processing through the house
(gym shorts and muscle shirts optional)

i showed up at another friend of a friend's house, my box of sweets (modak, at left) in tow. after traffic and slight misdirection, i arrived towards the end of the puja. in time for a little clapping and the requisite 'ganpati bappa morya' - this refrain goes on pretty much all night. the final offerings were made, the holy fire was offered to all, and prasad was had by all. then it was time to take the murti out of its pandal (in this case a really interesting woven basket) and into the streets. candles were lit along the floor and the deity was made to stop briefly over each of the flames on on its way out.

we made it down the stairs only to realize that it had begun to pour, putting a bit of a damper on the proposed 30-minute walk to the beach. no matter! ganpati, and everyone else, was strapped into various cars and the procession continued by caravan. it seems we weren't the only one with this idea, as the roads were pretty congested (but then in mumbai i guess it's hard to tell what the cause of traffic is since it's basically a fixture).

balloons and lights add to the festivity

the processions weren't limited to cars, though. driving by, we witnessed all methods of transport - ganeshes on carts lined with palm leaves, families hovered around the deity in the backs of trucks, balloons festooning canopies, groups marching to the beat of the dhol (or even drumsets), and - my personal favorite - a mobile dance party, complete with blaring speakers and flashing strobe light. the pouring rain had clearly put no damper on these celebrations.

a passing bus joins in the strobe light dance party

when we finally made it to the beach kristen and i were stunned at the vast expanse of shoreline that now lay before us. high tide and low tide are two very different entities here, it seems. along the darkened shorelines, we could see families gathered around faraway fires and hear the distant intermittent chants. the deity can be immersed after one and a half, three, five, seven or ten days (the tenth being the biggest) so this was just the first of many such events. the beach was littered with deities washed ashore, as well as flower malas, plastic bags, and ash. we all gathered around the deity for a final lighting of the fire and reciting of sacred verses before the deity was ceremoniously immersed into the water. this task was left to three or four of the men, while we waited near shore and tried not to think about what was in the water that was creeping up our shins.

we bid the deity farewell and that was that. it's a bit sad to think i won't be able to see the madness that will ensue in the coming days, but i'm glad to at least have gotten a glimpse into the craziness that is ganpati in mumbai.

ganpati (part 2: the deities)

2011-09-04T22:29:00.005-05:00

while the first day was busy with the bustle of the home puja, the next few days out and about were full of their own kind of craziness (and this is most decidedly not the craziest part of this festival, mind you).

i was eager to get out and see these ganpatis that were supposed to be lining the streets. i joined a friend and we wandered through the streets, annoyed by the vague advice we were given, when asked where to look: 'they're everywhere'. well it turns out this advice was spot on. they are indeed everywhere. we didn't get more than 50 meters past the train station (ville parle, in case you're keeping track) when we approached our first ganpati, housed in a tent of tarps, as they usually seem to be. we approached each one, removed our shoes, folded our hands respectfully, gave some coins as offerings, (my friend paused as i took the requisite picture(s), and we received prasad on our way out - usually nuts and little sugared balls, although the fancier places gave out modak. within the first half hour we must have seen at least half a dozen ganpatis, which is pretty good since my friend was told one should aim to see about seven (though i later heard nine as well). we must have at least doubled that by the end of our two-hour excursion.

the next day i had a similar encounter in a different part of town (farther south, near grant road) with a different friend. she must have gotten the inside scoop, because we saw some fantastic specimens - and some of the bigger ones i've seen, or even heard about.

the murti themselves are so varied i'm sure i won't be able to do them justice, so i'll let these pictures do the talking for me..

one of the first we saw.. i was interested in the environment they had created (and the changing lights were a nice touch as well.)

while most have that typically white/shiny appearance (which incidentally is generally plaster of paris) there was some nice variety. i appreciated the differences in color and shape this one used.

why is this ganesh so shiny? it's covered in buttons! over 80,000 of them. in past years the same idol has been made using chocolate, garam masala (spices), dried fruit, and stationery. resourceful indeed!

note the smaller deity image, which typically is placed before the main image. this is so that devotees can come up to take darshan and give offerings. also of interest - while most of the ganpatis we saw were in tents, some (like the ones in this village we wandered into) are simply placed in alleyways.

..and then others are housed in incredibly elaborate pandals like this one. we spent quite a while marveling and taking pictures of this fantastic setting. it's so nice that taking pictures is allowed (and that people do it so widely.. making me feel slightly less awkward about the process) though at this particular one the pandit was getting a little annoyed - too much clicking not enough darshan.

i thought this one deserved another shot, magnificent as it was. you don't quite get a sense of the size here, but it's about 14 feet tall. it's one of the 'big 5' ganpatis in mumbai. the biggest of these can draw lines that take hours, literally, (the average wait is about five) to reach the deity. if this sounds crazy, now imagine these same 10-20 foot deities being carried on canopies and paraded through streets teeming with masses of people. that's what's going to happen on the 10th day.

these few shots just scratch the surface - i must have seen over 25 ganpatis (well over the quota, whew) and that was only covering two very small areas. just thinking about the number there must be in this city is mind-boggling.

ganpati bappa morya (part 1)

2011-09-04T08:59:00.006-05:00

As I've been told by nearly everyone I've met, I've managed to come to Mumbai at exactly the right time. First there was Janmashtani (aka Dahi Handi), the celebration of Krishna's birth, next was Eid-al-Fitr, the end of Ramadan, which was quickly followed by the kickoff of Ganesh Chathurthi. The latter, widely called Ganpati here, is a 10-day festival that begins on the birthday of Ganesh, the beloved elephant-headed deity. The festival is incredibly big in the West, and particularly zealously celebrated in Pune and Mumbai.

rangoli and pookalam

I don't think I could have asked for a better crash course in the festival than I've had these past few days. Day one began bright and early, catching a train to meet my professor at his home across town. I arrived to a beautiful home that was busy with activity. Your first impression of the place was 'there are a lot of deities.' Then your second impression was 'there are a lot of trophies.' My advisor later pointed out his cases and cases of trophies, awarded for folk art performances (I imagine) - his daughter is a classical dancer as well. As I sat awkwardly on the couch, I felt nervous.. what in the world was I going to do here all day. But Dr. Khandge quickly assuaged my fears. 'Make yourself at home, relax. [and the compulsory:] Would you like some tea?' I chatted with his daughter and son, who was skyping in from Virginia, and watched as everyone put the finishing touches on their pandal (a platform to house the deity).

preparatory offerings

I sheepishly asked whether I could take pictures - 'of course!' was the answer. That was why I was there, after all. I should have known the time would pass quickly if I could take pictures. I can easily while away hours taking pictures (much to the chagrin of people I'm with). Just then Dr. Khandge pointed me toward the rangoli, which the women were creating outside the doorway. The pookalam (design made of flowers) was already already in place. When I got outside the women were beginning to fill in the outline of the rangoli with the colored powder. It was mesmerizing to watch.. and quite beautiful once finished.

clapping and chanting mantras are integral to the puja

receiving darshan and making offerings

The rest of the morning was filled with busying for the arrival of guests who included a young cousin named Rishika, who, luckily for me, took an immediate liking to me and, even luckier, spoke English. She spent the better part of the morning asking me if I knew Justin Bieber ('personally??') and trying to teach me Marathi (sigh, another language). She also served as my occasional interpreter, explaining that everyone was discussing. The morning went quickly and before I knew it guests had arrived and the puja (prayer ceremony) had begun. I imagine these can get repetitive even if you understand the language, but for me it was a succession of chanting, ringing bells, presenting offerings (see pic) and clapping. the deity is then ritualistically placed in the pandal, where everyone gets a chance to receive darshan (gaze of the deity) and receive blessings. After doing so the appointed pujari offers prasad (blessings in the form of food) to the devotees. Once the deity (or murti) is in place he is adorned with flower garlands, cloth, and sprinkled with offerings like flower petals and powders (spices). At this point one of the younger cousins was given the honor of performing the aarti, offering fire to the deity (which is done by lighting camphor on a tray and rotating it before the murti), and the circulating it to everyone so that they can receive the warmth of the holy fire. The aarti itself was accompanied by chants and clapping, including the frequent interjection of: 'ganpatti bappa - morya!' (which roughly translates to 'oh Lord Ganesh'), a phrase I'm sure I heard (and repeated) no fewer than 8 dozen times in the past 48 hours. This is followed by several other phrases, whose transliterations and meanings I don't know.

After the puja process, we began the much anticipated eating process, though we were tided over by the offerings of ladoo and modak (sacramental sweets). Much fuss was made over whether I needed anything else while eating (a spoon? more rice?) but I ate on the floor with my hand with the best of 'em, if I do say so myself. Over the meal my advisor explained that Ganesh is seen as the god of the masses. I can't think of a better place than Mumbai for ultimate celebrations of such a deity.

After lunch I was advised to go take a nap, which didn't take much convincing (after little sleep the night before). I slept well and was awakened to 'Glenna! It's time to put on sari' In a matter of moments I was ceremoniously taken out of my kurta and wrapped up in a lovely maroon sari. It was at this point that I realized that I had a large tear along the seam of my kurta. ('Yes, everybody was talking about it'. Great.) There must have been six of seven ladies filtering in and out of that room. One woman, Monika, skillfully wrapped the sari, brushed out my curly hair (no easy feat), put up my hair in traditional style - with flowers, and did my makeup (hello, burgundy lipstick). I think they enjoyed dolling me up. Rishika cutely doted on me, saying things like 'You look prettier than Aishwarya Rai' which is both very flattering and absolutely untrue. (She was used as the face of Indian Barbie, to give you a frame of reference.)

traditional kirtan, stories of the gods in music and song

The guests began filtering in.. and just kept on coming! I would say I've never seen so many Indians in one room but that just wouldn't be true. Much fuss was made over my presence, some more obviously than others (Rishika informed me: 'everyone is talking about you.' then added, 'they are all praising you.') Eventually once everyone had arrived - I would say at least 35, but perhaps more - the puja began. It was much the same as before, though this time I was given the task of performing the aarti, which I hope I did without looking to bewildered. Prasad was given, guests took darshan, and offerings of flowers, money, sweets and more were presented to Shri Ganesha. Everyone once again gathered on the floor - a beautiful blend of colorful saris (I swear it was as if they coordinated - no two were the same shade) and kurtas. The daughter, Sukhi (the dancer) oversaw a group of her students performing a classical dance. Then the musicians came out and we saw a traditional kirtan, a mix of sung and spoken word stories about the gods. All I could make out were the names of the gods, but I was later told that I was 'very attentive'. Whew. This was followed once again by food - paranthas, dal, rice, pickle and plenty of sweets. As the evening came to a close and guests began to filter out, the family and I discussed this and that.. my impressions of India, Indian English, yoga asanas. We had a final cup of chai together before hitting the hay.

Utterly exhausting. And this was just day one! More to come...

eid mubarak!

2011-09-01T05:45:00.011-05:00

you may remember me mentioning my sojourn to mohammed ali road a while back. well, with ramzan coming to a close we decided it was time to venture out there again. my roommate (i should probably start calling her by her name - which is kristen) hadn't been there at all but was eager for a crazy, totally indian experience.

people running to and fro under the shadow of the masjid

if it was crazy we wanted, we got it. our first adventure involved getting onto the central railway line for the first time.. which proved harder than expected in the labyrinth of stairs and covered walkways that is bandra station (not even the craziest station.. by a longshot). we ended up on the wrong train but ended up at the right stop (if that makes sense..) which was, appropriately, 'masjid'.

i was quite proud of us for navigating ourselves successfully to mohammed ali road. we only asked for directions a few times. i had assumed we could follow the noise and lights but, this being eid eve, there were noise and lights everywhere. as well as trucks, buses, motorcycles, carts, bikes and street vendors. but what else is new. at one point kristen was wedged between a massive truck and a motorcycle; she was convinced she wasn't going to make it out without losing a few toes.

a local proprietor enticing potential clients

once we made it to mohammed ali road, we descended into the madness. if i had thought it was crowded before, well, i was right. but it was even more crowded this time around. families with little ones dolled up in their finest sparkly attire, young guys roving in packs, and of course the older men beckoning each and every passing potential customer. 'madam, madam, come sit.'

we bounced around to different places - standing, sitting, sampling. eating this and that. i won't bore you with the details of what we ate (as it was largely a reprise of my earlier trip, supplemented by a few different varieties of meat and starches) but suffice it to say that we were quite stuffed with all kinds of greasy delicious food.

at one point we turned down a side street, only to find ourselves face to face with skinned gaots and various animal innards. we gauged that we weren't on the tourist street anymore and quickly turned back.

getting back was almost as exciting. by sheer dumb luck we managed to snag a cab among the throngs of people. the first solid 15 minutes of our cab ride we spent at about 5 miles an hour, happily watching the madness pass us by from the comfort of our seats. it seemed to be a never-ending parade of white spotlights, people rushing here and there, and the dangling lights of ramadan. as we made our way back to the west and passed high-end brunch places and fancy gyms, we wondered 'can this really be the same city..?'

when it rains, it monsoons

2011-08-28T19:39:00.014-05:00

so in our coming to mumbai we've managed to hit the tail end of monsoon season. i was prepared for this, though, having been warned that 'it will be flooding' when i get to mumbai and hearing talk of trudging through streets with several feet of water. so when i arrived to find rather sporadic and light to medium rains i just shrugged off the warnings as the typically hyperbolic cautionary tales you so often hear as a westerner.

well i may have spoken too soon.

the rains make everything extra green

true, the first few days of our stay were only sporadically rainy (which was merciful, given all the other drudgery we had to go through.. tramping all around town looking at apartments and whatnot). but something must have snapped a few days ago. the skies opened up and the rain just poured down. it was exciting at first. after settling into our new place it was lovely to cozy up next to the window with a cup of tea and listen to the rain beating down on the tin awnings.

but pretty soon the cabin fever set in. having just arrived in a new (and massive) city, we were itching to explore. we had grandiose plans of visiting national parks, museum-hopping and market-wandering for the weekend. the one time i did venture out the walking tour i had hoped to join was canceled before i even got there. this seemed premature to me, but i guess these mumbaikars know a thing or two about the rains. sure enough, within the hour the downpour began. unfortunately this happened to be in the midst of my walk along marina drive and nariman point (meaning a bit of a walk from the train station). despite holding my umbrella (which i have dutifully carted around with me everywhere i've gone) i was soaked within minutes. (note to self: no white in monsoons.. luckily i hadn't made that particular mistake that morning) my friend and i stopped for some chai and vada pav to see if the rains would stop. but, alas, no end in sight. still, getting caught in a true monsoon downpour seemed like something of a rite of passage, like i had been cheating all those times before, just watching the rains from the comfort of my window.

last night my roommate and i were commiserating about the rains and the frustration at not being able to explore as we wanted to. but, faced with another day stuck inside, we resolved to go out anyway. when we did we realized that, naturally, life goes on, even during these crazy rains. sure, some shops shut down early and we heard some trains were flooded or running slowly. but, as my roommate pointed out, when it rains four months out of the year you just have to keep going.

i think i'm beginning to understand the romance of the rains. and while i still enjoy the unpredictability of virginia weather, i can certainly appreciate the anticipation of a massive rain that follows 8 months of heat and humidity.

well, the rain's really coming down now. if you'll excuse me i'm off to make some chai.

jackpot

2011-08-23T14:39:00.000-05:00

a team of govindas greet their fans

so, as i mentioned, yesterday was krishna's birthday, a holiday known as janmashtani or locally as dahi handi. basically the story goes that as a boy krishna was very mischievous and was well-known for stealing butter. but since the pots were up on high shelves, he needed his friends' help to reach the delicious buttery goodness. so in his honor, teams of kids (boys and girls, respectively - called govindas) get together and make human pyramids to try to reach the clay pots strung up high (which now also come with a healthy monetary sum). so i guess the idea is to encourage friendship and teamwork (with the ultimate goal of doing something you're not supposed to do..)

the teammates themselves are known as 'govindas' and they seem to cruise around the city all day in their trucks and matching shirts, waving and gesticulating to any and all onlookers. these clay pots are strung up all over the city and it's not clear to me whether teams travel around to attempt more than one pot-break or if it's more of a one-and-done type of situation.

scrambling up the pyramid

in any case, the spectacle that we witnessed on our street all happened quite quickly. which perhaps was why people started gathering so early to grab a good spot. i mean, you wouldn't want to miss the action. the team assembles and before you even realize they've started, the boys (or girls) have already formed the base and are well on their way to the second tier. we watched them form a pyramid, determine it wasn't tall enough, and sort of collapse in on themselves. luckily, no injuries. though - side note - the smallest one does wear a helmet. though it looks like it's probably made of foam.

by the time they started their second attempt i was able to grab my video recorder, which (unfortunately) does a better job of explaining this than i do. i'm not sure whether they reconfigured or just grabbed another kid in a yellow shirt, but whatever they did, it must have worked. the pyramid rose up high enough, and as the smallest boy was lifted up on to his friend's shoulders the crowd started to cheer. this all reached its climax when the helmeted boy reached up to the clay pot and broke it (word to the wise: don't use your head, like john abraham, or you may injure your face. go figure), thus releasing some kind of muddy orangey liquid (not butter) which spilled down onto the group below.

said sea of yellow

this is followed by much jubilation as the team comes down, returns to the streets, and the cheering crowds part for the victors. they seem beside themselves. a sea of yellow drifts by, all smiles and waves to their adoring fans. i guess it's not often you have the undivided attention of your whole town at the age of 12.

i should add that i discovered that these events (or the cash prizes, anyway) are largely sponsored by political parties and/or celebrities. this would seems to tinge the event's otherwise innocent origins. what would krishna say..

180 kind of day

2011-08-22T06:36:00.000-05:00

so when i said housing was difficult to find in mumbai, i wasn't exaggerating. and though we were technically only homeless for 5 or 6 days, it seemed like much more, and in the end we were probably extremely lucky.

we spent the first few days roaming all around bandra (a good, central area with lots to do) being taken from place to place in auto rickshaws. the broker, 'brendan' (who bore an uncanny resemblance to an indian nathan lane) was clearly playing a game with us - showing us several small dingy places in unsettlingly narrow alleyways, several that were way too fancy - one with beach views and a swimming pool, and of course one that was just right. i'm calling it the goldilocks effect. we asked a lot of questions which seemed to be annoyances to him. silly of us to ask such frivolous things like if it will be furnished, and the price.

every day was more of the same, looking at place after place out of our price range until they all started running together. the whole process was exhausting. then on top of the high prices were the security deposits. apparently in mumbai it's not uncommon to ask for '1 or 2 lakhs' (1 lakh =100,000 Rs. or about 2200 USD) upfront. we, of course, being scholars (seems to get a better reaction than 'students' around here) on a fixed monthly stipend, can in no way manage this - which we attempted painstakingly to explain to the various brokers we dealt with.

and then, today. something must have happened. the skies parted and the gods smiled down on us. (i'm crediting this one to krishna as today was his birthday celebration) somehow we went from being homeless and destitute at looking at getting kicked out of the ymca (where fulbright chose to put us up for a week. sidenote: if you're in mumbai, don't ever stay here. for the same money you could get a much nicer place in a better location and actual edible food) with nowhere to go... to having a fully furnished, affordable apartment in the nice part of town.

we met with a woman whose apartment we had seen the day before. it was a 1 BHK (apparently this means bedroom, hall, kitchen) that essentially had two bedroom areas and a spacious living room, plus a small kitchen full of windows and a bathroom with a small step for the shower area (not so common here, believe me). though there was furniture we would need to get we thought we would still be saving money in the long run, since it was so affordable.

the whole process worked like clockwork. we met in the morning, agreed on a very reasonable security deposit, got the rent down to the price we wanted. we went to the Y to check out (and never again return) and bring our bags across town and in the meantime had the lease read over by our other friend who happens to be a lawyer (handy, isn't it). by 2.45 we and our belongings were inside the apartment, by 3.30 we had signed and fingerprinted the lease, and by 4.30 we had somehow acquired all kinds of things from our extremely generously landlord - including a single bed, a double bed, two comfortable chairs, new sheets, pillows, a pan and some maggi.

as we explored our area that evening and saw our new neighbors gathering for the festivities (more on that later) we mused on how amazing it is the way things turn out sometime. all i can say is, jai shri krishna

bombay belly

2011-08-21T14:46:00.007-05:00

i should start by saying that while i appreciated mumbai right away, for the first couple days i didn't experience much of it, really. the first few days were filled with the monotony of registering with the police, buying cell phones, and endlessly looking for apartments (in mumbai, easier said than done. much easier).

so i was particularly excited at the prospect of spending some time with arlene, a friend of a friend, who was born and raised in the city. i met her in a crowded bar but even so she was hard to miss - and not just because she's probably the only chinese girl in the room - she has a warm, friendly personality that's just infectious. so naturally she graciously invited me out with some of her friends afterward. and, luckily for me, it just to happened to be the night they had chosen to make their annual trek to mohammed ali road for ramadan (or ramzam) fare.

the madness at mohammed ali road

if you haven't heard of mohammed ali road (as i hadn't), it's referred to - at least during ramadan - as the street that never sleeps. as you approach the street by taxi you realize just how true this is. the streets are brighter than midday - with the blindingly white kurtas lit with giant fluorescent lights. in front of these people in white kurtas and taqiyahs bustle about looking through piles of shoes or rushing on to enjoy the feast that awaits. as you approach the looming green and white mosque, you can see the crowds thicken around the glow of dangling lights. the smoke and smells of delicious food frying waft up through the air and beckon the eaters forward.

brain food..

we began with a small meal in a rather dingy walkup, adorned with plastic tables and dangling chickens outside. walking up the stairs was treacherous not only because of their steepness but because of the layer of grease on the floor unlike any i have ever seen (and i worked at a cheap restaurant..) there we ordered an assortment of goodies.. tender chicken reshmi with chutney, mutton kebab (in this case just chunks of meat), and an eggy bread i didn't catch the name of. this we capped off with bheja masala (goat brains! very soft) which we washed down with some limca and thums up sodas.

tasty firni

from there it was back outside onto the craziness of the street. from here we skipped the salty snacks and moved straight to sweets. we had sandhal, a light puffy treat with a thin layer of malai (coconut) sort of paste on top. then it was on to the real sweet stuff.. we had some firni, a tasty thick rice pudding-like dish served in charming clay pots.

frying malpuwa

then it was on to malpuwa - which we first saw frying in giant vats of oil and surely later smothered with ghee and who knows what else. everyone jumps in and grabs a piece - deliciously greasy. all this just about filled us up, and by 2am it was about time to go - although each girl had to take a few of this or that home, as per moms' requests.

serving up late night snacks

so i think the lessons here are: if locals offer to take you to food, GO (obviously), muslims get really creative with food at ramadan (also obvious - when you sit and think about food all day you must get pretty good at it), and of course it's never too late for snacks!

welcome in india

2011-08-17T14:05:00.000-05:00

well i've indeed arrived once again in india. despite a long, complicated series of flights and delays in getting here (suffice it to say that instead of one layover i had a three-leg flight, hours of waiting, and people tracking my progress over three continents). eventually i arrived, at 2.30 in the morning rather than 5.45 in the evening. it was nice to see a friendly face, although after waiting for me for five hours, jimmy's face was less than friendly. (which i hope was mostly remedied by the southern comfort i supplied from duty free.)

after the unpleasantness of the flight/s, i was able to sit back and enjoy being in india. and my first realization? rain! rain in india was something i had never experienced before. when we arrived in karnal (jimmy's village in haryana), we were surrounded by green grass, brooding skies and rolling clouds. (clouds!) it was lovely. karnal in general was nice - and it was so wonderful to stay with a family (particularly my good friend's) so far from home.

from there, despite much protesting from jimmy's mother, i had to go back to delhi for a fulbright orientation. another one. this one was at the taj, which has got to be one of the fanciest hotels in asia (and has won awards to this effect). they had hundreds of fresh roses in arrangements every day. they had actual museum-quality Shah Jahan (18th c.)-era pieces all over the lobby. the breakfast had three kinds of honey, include one that was collected from a honeycomb suspended a foot above the glass bowl. so between spending days in the hotel's rooftop conference room and being shuttled to the public affairs officer's (i'm sure) multi-million dollar home for a fancy dinner, it didn't feel much like india.

it wasn't until 3 days in to our trips, when we touched down in mumbai, that it started to feel like india. bombay is such a sprawling city.. things just fit wherever they can. comparisons with delhi seem impossible to avoid so i'll just say that in delhi things seem more orderly somehow. chaotic, but orderly. in bombay things are everywhere: beggars and businessmen, old crumbling buildings at the foot of (literally) one of the most expensive apartments in the world, trees growing up through fences and along roadsides between skyscrapers, and bustling (or halting) traffic next to a calming sea. outside bombay central, the black and yellow of the autos add to their bumblebee resemblance, buzzing through the streets, swarming around train stations and shopping centers. so far i'm really enjoying the city - and reveling in all its wonderful contradictions.

india-bound

2011-08-11T11:52:00.000-05:00

well, it's official. i'll be heading to india in just a few days (hours now, really) for a 9-month stint in india, thanks to the state department and the good people at fulbright-nehru. i'll be based in mumbai and traveling to study folk art made for all kinds of festivals. (i know - can you believe they're paying me for this?)

while i'll make a blog for my official research-y type information, i'll keep this blog going for my more general, informal travel musings. so i guess for the next few months the g will stand for 'gori'.

back for more

2011-01-29T09:42:00.000-05:00

alright, i realize i was just in india less than a year ago. i do. this trip, however, was made under the auspices of research for my thesis. who am i kidding, though. i don’t need a reason to go back to india. i fell in love with it right away and knew it was only a matter of time before i came back.

stepping out of the delhi airport was a different sensation from our first. i can still vividly remember the sense of walking into an oven, the summer heat immediately enveloping us. this time our experience was rather different – arriving on an early morning in january, everything was a bit darker and rather chilly. yet there was that unmistakable sense of india. some places just have a certain scent. honduras smells like dirt, ripening bananas, and smoke from the occasional piles of burning trash. india’s smell is something like a mix of dust, exhaust, and incense. just breathing it in, i was already glad to be back.

having already been here once before, and, in fact, visiting some of the same places, i won’t go into detail about each aspect of our trip. instead i’ll just share some impressions i’ve had this time around. second impressions, if you will.

what stands out most to me in india are snapshots. i don’t just mean pictures i take, though i do try to take as many as i can. i mean remembering images - moments in time or little snatches of daily life. driving over 1000 kilometers through various cities and villages, there were no shortage of those..

..people packed on top of trains and trucks. women expertly carrying enormous bundles of sticks or pots of water on their heads. monkeys protecting their babies or variously swiping food from unsuspecting picnickers. men sitting at a dhaba, engrossed in a TV movie. girls selling fruit on the side of a small road. old men sweeping away the constant layer of dust. vibrantly painted trucks stacked high with rocks or bricks. women getting water at the local pump. boys’ energetic shouts over a game of cricket. cows, some with painted horns, wandering the streets. twenty people piling out of an auto rickshaw. a man saying his morning prayers in the growing daylight. herds of goats invading the roadway. kids in uniform carrying their books to the local school. truck wallas napping on cots in the sun. marching bands announcing a nearby wedding procession. two boys reading sitting on a wall, sharing a newspaper. women in bright saris dotting emerald green fields. kids sandwiched in between their parents on mopeds speeding around the city. dogs endlessly scratching a perpetual itch. men bundled in mufflers and blankets piled on to tractors to go to work.

these are the memories i’d like to carry with me of india. of course i love visiting the monuments, eating the food, and shopping for beautiful goods. but more than anything it is these recollections of india that will stay with me for much longer.

southern exposure

2010-11-29T10:54:00.001-05:00

this thanksgiving my mother and i decided to take a trip to florida. not having ever been one for traditional thanksgivings, i was thrilled at the prospect of spending the holiday on a beach. which is exactly what we did.

i arrived in tampa thanksgiving day, from which we drove directly to st. pete, found our hotel and plopped ourselves down in the sand. there were no clouds in the sky and the sun was beating down on our lounge chairs. after we were sufficiently sunned, we headed across the street for our thanksgiving dinner. i got a rather atraditional (but florida appropriate) shrimp scampi and turkey soup (to assuage you purists out there). we had time for a leisurely game of shuffleboard (a nail-biter, but i won in the end) and were able to watch the sun go down over the gulf before catching an evening showing of the latest harry potter installment (in imax, no less). now that is my kind of thanksgiving.

the next day we continued with our harry potter theme in a trek to universal studios, which we visited primarily for the ‘wizarding world’ attraction. the crowds were as big as we feared but we were able to get on all the rides we wanted, largely thanks to the ingenious ‘single rider’ line. you tend to get split up, but you get through the line in a fraction of the time. ‘why doesn’t everyone do this?’ we wondered. the wizarding world itself was quite well done. the much-anticipated butterbeer was delicious (we had to go back for a second), the streets and shops looked quite authentic, and the castle ride was spectacular. our major complaint (aside from the throngs of people) was that it wasn’t bigger. surely this could be made into its own theme park.

the next day we were back in st. pete just in time for the big saturday farmers’ market. it did not disappoint. i would say it was one of the best i’ve been to – easily top five. there we found not only produce and food (french pastries, flavored pastas, barbecue) but all sorts of crafts and food vendors representing at least 20 regions of the world from cuba to israel to france. mom tried a knisch, i had some kind of latin american egg tortilla grilled cheese, and we both split a raspberry smoothie. after some walking around and several purchases i treated myself to a salted caramel popsicle that was divine (as are most all things caramel).

from there we headed to the chihuly collection. being something of a glass aficionado i’m always interested in seeing chihuly’s work, which isn’t hard as it’s all over the world. the collection was private and rather expensive but had some wonderful pieces. pictures were prohibited but i managed to get around that. i’m nothing if not a master of the sneak-and-shoot.

we rounded off our day in st. pete with a tapas lunch at ceviche, with beautiful Spanish tiles and a lovely view of the water, which came recommended by my dear friend kelly. on our way out of town we stopped by an authentic little moroccan shop and haslam’s, a new/used bookstore and an old haunt of my parents’.

that night we drove to ft. myers, which turns out to be a godawful tourist trap. every store looked like the ones you’d find just off the boardwalk – buzzing fluorescent lights, abrasive ‘tropical’ music and shelves upon shelves packed with seashells, ‘pirate’ placards, and hemp necklaces. our hotel check-in was actually inside one of these horrible shops, which made us a bit nervous, but the room itself, behind the strip, turned out to be just fine.

we set out early the next morning to catch our boat to key west. the boat itself was nice enough, though i neglected to buy any dramamine so the trip itself was a little rocky. three hours later though we were glad to arrive on the island.

though key west is small the thought of carting our bags to wherever our hotel turned out to be was less than appealing. so we hopped on a rickshaw and got our first taste of the island. the houses seemed charming, lined with palm trees and bushes with purple and orange flowers that seem to grow in greece and hawaii and everywhere that’s tropical and beautiful. we arrived at our hotel, paid a monstrous fee for our rickshaw, and get ready to explore on foot.

we first set out for lunch. after exploring a few options near us we made our way to the main road which had, besides sundry souvenir shops, ice cream parlors and cafes, a few nicer restaurants. we settled on a small deli where we could get some cuban sandwiches. we were in key west, after all. from there we continued on to the hemingway house, a shady house with overgrown trees and bushes through which wander some 44 cats, all descendants of hemingway’s own. our guide through the house was knowledgeable and succinct, though his boston accent seemed a little incongruous with the setting. still we enjoyed seeing his photos and paintings (he had rather terrible taste, i thought), his studio and the urinal from which one of his wives contrived a fountain. how very ‘duchamp’ of her.

from here we set out to see the ‘southernmost point’, one of those tourist landmarks that everyone just has to get their picture with, like four corners or mt. rushmore. we skipped the line for picture-taking in favor of a slice of key lime pie sold by a local cart vendor. ‘made fresh yesterday,’ he told us. ‘best on the island.’ while i did not sample any other key lime pies on the island, i’m inclined to believe him. it was delicious.

having satisfied our desire to be at the southernmost point of the US, we headed toward the other end of the island to catch the nightly sunset festival. this ended up being another $20+ rickshaw ride. what a racket. the sunset ‘festival’ turned out to be little more than a few street performers whose main acts seemed to be plying people for money. there were a few other vendors here and there, whose offerings were handmade but no less cheesy than most of the wares in any of the many souvenir stores. i attribute this abundance of touristy shops to the cruise ships that seem to come in regularly. the sunset itself, unfortunately, did not live up to key west’s reputation. the day was unusually cloudy and the sun meekly peaked through the clouds for only a few minutes.

we gave up and headed towards the harbor where there was said to be a light display for christmas. after asking where said light display was, we were told we were in it.. a few of the boats had strings of lights hanging from their masts and a few bulbs hung along the wooden poles of the harbor. not quite what we had envisioned. still, here we had fresh seafood and a pina colada away from the crowds of the tourists.

the next day we decided to rent bikes to see the rest of the island. this was probably the best decision we made – they cost $10 for the day (that would be less than half of one of our rickshaw rides) and we were able to leisurely explore the streets on our bright blue beachcombers. we wandered through all the streets, admiring the pretty pastel of the stucco and shutters, the Victorian gingerbread details and the tropic vegetation that lined the streets. once we were sufficiently satisfied that we had seen most every palm-tree lined street we headed back up the main road where we stopped at the butterfly sanctuary on a whim. it was wonderful – they had at least a dozen varieties all fluttering around the flowers and fruits. we got some lovely pictures, although some were particularly elusive. it must have been mating season because those guys were chasing each other around pretty fast.

at our lunch we savored our last fresh seafood and one more pina colada before heading back to the boat. this time armed with dramamine (our only tangible purchase on the island, i’m proud to say), the trip went much more smoothly. overall key west had been rather underwhelming – what charm it must have once had now seemed overshadowed by kitschiness and gimmicks for cruise-hoppers. still, it had its advantages too. all in all this long-weekend southern excursion made for a welcome break in an otherwise dreary month.

yalla bye

2010-08-10T15:51:00.004-05:00

well i've enjoyed my time here in jordan more than i had ever imagined and will be very sad to see it go. as i ruminate over the past two months i offer you my (usual) wrap-up bullet point lists.

things i'll miss about jordan..

the smell of jasmine just outside my door
the view of the city at dusk - never any clouds just a nice soft pink light that makes the buildings glow
the call to prayer. plaintive and beautiful, it's also somehow comforting.
the absolutely delicious food. it's hard to beat home-cooked food every day. not to mention the daily pita/hummus/za'atar and falafel or manakish you can get cheap on every street corner
deciphering arabic. life's much more exciting when understanding simple signs is a victory
lemon and mint. what an unexpectedly delicious combination. both in liquid and hookah form.
buying cheap movies. in wasat al-beled (the downtown) you can't turn around without finding a shop filled with racks of dvds. and not just new terrible action movies, but classics and obscure foreign titles. they're already cheap but of course it doesn't hurt to get to know the vendors
mango juice. alright, so maybe the juices here are full of sugar. and maybe (okay definitely) the mango juice can't compete with india's. still, it's hard to find at home and it's so delicious
meeting people from all over. true, i can do this at home but it takes more effort and somehow it's just not the same as being thrown into a group of foreigners all in a strange new place. it's exciting!

things i will not miss..

cabs everywhere. cabs are a necessary evil in amman. because the public transportation consists of vans that you flag down, if you want to go anywhere farther than half a mile you're going to have to take a cab. not only does this get expensive, but it clogs up the already congested roads of amman. particularly at 3 when everyone's trying to get home for that afternoon nap.
wearing long pants every day. with temperatures nearing the triple digits in the shade, wearing jeans every day is no picnic. true, as a foreigner i could get away with wearing a skirt or maybe even (gasp) shorts. but the exponential increase (because there's always some) in catcalling and honks just isn't worth it.
paying for water. it gets expensive and, being spoiled living in america, just seems so unnecessary. and then there are those people who do the same thing at home.. weirdos. but really for the middle east jordan is rather expensive and as someone who is unequivocally cheap, this gets tiresome.
having a curfew. don't get me wrong, it was wonderful living with a family and i was lucky in that they let me stay out late and be with friends. but it was a little odd having friends who had to be home by 9 and sometimes it felt like i was 15 again. an age i've never had a terrible desire to revisit.
arabic soap operas. if i never see another arabic soap opera it will be too soon. the family gathered around for hours to watch these melodramas, which all seemed to consist of women with bad blond dye jobs and western clothes or women who stayed home doing nothing but wearing expensive jewelry and too much makeup, smoking hookahs and yelling at their husbands. ramadan evidentally marks the new tv season (and a month where people have nothing to do all day) so of course the time spent in front of the tv only increased. borrrrrinnng

so there you have it. it's been a wonderful summer and i'm sad to see it go.
jordan, i will miss you and the friends i've made here.
on to the next adventure...

akla! akla!

2010-07-22T11:21:00.003-05:00

since i've been here i've been treated to middle eastern dishes on a daily basis. treated is putting it mildly. even after a second helping i'm routinely instructed 'akla! akla!' (eat! eat!). the food is always fresh (the family here doesn't even have a microwave) and flavorful. even after six weeks here i don't think i've had any dish more than twice. here are some of the highlights..

stuffed kusa. the best translation for kusa would be cucumber, though they're smaller and tastier than any cucumber i've ever had at home. the veggies are hollowed out and filled with rice and spiced ground meat and cooked in a tomato sauce
dawali. this is a variation on turkish dolma, but smaller and presumably more time-consuming. one of the few dishes i've helped in preparing, dawali requires a full day (at least) to make. ahab, the uncle, told me it was the 'stupidest middle eastern dish' because it takes hours to make and just seconds to eat. it's true enough - each one requires a pinch of rice and meat inside a tightly wrapped grape leaf. it's a tedious process and one that's generally carried out by all the women sitting with trays in front of the tv. but once they're cooked (usually along with the kusa) and served with yogurt no one's complaining. partially because their mouths are all too full.
molokhia. an egyptian soup consisting principally of spinach (or something very much like spinach). i have to say this dish is not my favorite. perhaps because on wikipedia it was described as 'mucilaginous' (i had to look it up but it's basically what it sounds like - mucus-y), a characterization i would have to agree with.
maftool. this dishes it one of my favorite. described to me as 'pure palestinian', it's a dish that's made in great quantities and served at big family affairs. the maftool itself is made of cracked wheat, dampened and rolled with flour to make little balls - something like couscous but bigger. usually it's served with chicken, onion and chick peas but i could eat a plate full all by itself. i was told the name means 'twisted' first because of how they make the pearls and then because of how your stomach feels after you eat them. i admit i was pretty full after that second helping.
labnah. is an interesting mix between cheese and yogurt. as i understand it, labnah is yogurt that has been strained of its whey and usually left in olive oil for days at a time. the result is balls or chunks of something that has the consistency of cheese but tastes like (mediterranean-style) yogurt
knafeh. this one has to be one of my favorites. just the mention of the name is enough to make me salivate. a traditional palestinian pastry, it's prepared by heating pastry dough and covering it with butter and oil, then spreading on (Nabulshi, from Nablus) cheese and topping that with a sugary syrup and crushed pistachios. basically all of that just means gooey, greasy deliciousness. for a real treat, you can go to arafat or habibeh (the two most famous knafeh shops) that are always packed - even late into the night
honey cake. another sweet that's made its way here is honey cake. the name might make it sound like the sweetness would be overpowering but in reality it's just the right blend of cake, honey, almond and pistachios. delightful.
musakhan. when we had this meal i was told not to eat anything all day. after lunch (usually served around 3) i was glad i had listened. this meal is a feast in itself. huge trays come out stacked with taboon (palestinian) bread slathered with fried onions and roasted chickens baked with onions, pine nuts, and all kinds of spices. normally (like most dishes) accompanied with yogurt and eaten with your hands, it makes for a messy, filling meal.
mansaf. i would be remiss (or worse) if i didn't mention the national dish of jordan. because there are so many foreigners (palestinians mostly) who've settled in jordan the delicacies come from all over. but mansaf is totally jordanian and any jordanian will proudly claim it as the national dish. it consists of lamb cooked for hours in fermented yogurt and served with rice. you'll inevitably be asked if you ate it with your hands or utensils so you might as well just get messy and dig right in.

these are the big dishes that i can recall. but even the simplest dishes are so flavorful that i could eat them over and over. fried zucchini with yogurt, rice and lentils (mjaddrah), stewed tomatoes and garlic with bread, coriander seeds and garlic in olive oil, rice and pine nuts, potatoes and eggs, green beans or okra in a tomato sauce, soup with yellow lentils and lemon. and the list goes on..

then of course there are the snacks, what you might have for 'dinner' (a light meal eaten later, around 9 or 10). one of my favorites is za'atar, a mix of dried spices (oregano, basil, thyme.. who knows what else) served with olive oil and used for dipping. then there's nablus, a salty cheese offset by bread or watermelon. any variety of fresh fruits, homemade pickles.. ah, just thinking of all this makes me sad to leave.

of course i'll try to recreate these dishes when i go home, but somehow i know that they won't taste quite the same coming from my kitchen.

bedouing

2010-07-09T06:46:00.016-05:00

in my time here in amman so far i've been lucky enough to enjoy great food and wonderful company on a regular basis. but some of the most memorable moments have been on our little excursions outside the city.

the first of these was to wadi rum, the famous desert where lawrence of arabia traveled (and where the subsequent movie was filmed). i attempted to watch part of the movie (in just 26 parts on youtube) beforehand, but after seeing enough of the landscape to be sufficiently impressed, i gave up grappling with the slow internet. our drive in was largely uneventful, though our bus ride was punctuated by our driver's attempts at forced interaction (we were asked to introduce ourselves with a joke or song).

four hours and several gas stations later, we arrived in the desert. and, wouldn't you know, it was HOT. we were asked to wait in the shade while lunch was prepared and though we were technically in the shade, in covered pavilions resting on cushions, there was no breeze to speak of and cooling off seemed like a rather indistinct possibility. that said, i didn't let the heat stop me from flat-out sprinting when i saw that someone had (ingeniously) brought an american football. after two touchdowns we realized it was just too hot to play and, mercifully, lunch was ready anyway.

the lunch was rather unremarkable. mostly everyone was thirsty. but these bedouins are clever. all the costs of the camp and our stay were included in the price.. except drinks. we were shelling out half JDs left and right for precious bottles of slightly chilled water. what a racket.

after claiming our temporary dwellings (i opted for the house-o'-sticks over the tent. i mean, have you ever slept in a stick house??) we were taken out for the requisite jeep ride through the dunes. i'm not sure why these are consistently referred to as jeep rides, since we were all piled into the back of pickup trucks. no matter, being in the open air was much better. we held on to the sides of the truck as we were flung and jostled about, picking up speed as we took each turn and cruising down the dunes themselves. we were let out at various strategic points to run, jump and roll down the dunes, have some tea, or buy a keffiyah. the only casualties (apart from the guy who got sick after running up a sand dune) were several cameras, unfortunately including mine. (side note: turned out to be a software problem that just happened to coincide with lots of wind and sand and some beautiful landscapes).

back at the camp we were left to our devices, which for most of us meant either trying to stay cool or climbing up some rocks to see the sunset. the sunset wasn’t particularly spectacular (they aren’t usually here; an absence of clouds tends to have that effect) but after the sun went behind the farthest cliff we managed to find some camels for a quick ride back down the hill.

as it grew darker and we waited for dinner, people started to gather around the circle in the center of the camp. music started up, first just debka (a traditional dance involving holding hands and sticking a foot out intermittently, which frankly i find rather dull), then gearing up to some faster paced arabic music (read: bellydancing). we had great fun dancing and dancing and hardly noticed when dinner was finally ready, around 9. after another forgettable meal we headed out past the lights of the camp to watch the stars. they were as numerous as you might imagine in the middle of the desert. lying on the sand i saw no fewer than five shooting stars. we made the most of our night there, staying up until the sky started brightening, and then catching a few winks before breakfast the next morning.

white wedding, manic monday

2010-07-06T00:52:00.009-05:00

so last night i was lucky enough to attend a jordanian wedding, which i'll attempt to capture here for the sake of posterity.

i didn't find out myself i was going to said wedding until about 20 minutes before we left. the girls had been shopping for weeks, trying to find the right dresses and shoes. since there was no mention of it to me, i assumed i wouldn't be joining them. i barely had time to wash my hair and throw on the only thing i had that was halfway decent (covering the knees). i was told it was just a "typical" wedding so i thought perhaps it wouldn't be too different. well, i was a little off.

we arrived in zarqa, a town just north of amman, where our first stop was the groom's house. guests were gathered outside, along with the palestinian band (all playing the drums). the mother of the groom held a large silver tray with the groom's clothes over her head and as the band began to play people gathered around, dancing, clapping and passing the tray among them. one of the elderly guests had a handgun that he fired into the air, a practice that's now illegal (since, you know, it's recklessly dangerous) but still happens pretty often.

eventually we made it upstairs to the apartment where the festivities continued. all the furniture was pushed aside to make room for the guests and the band that all crowded in for more dancing around the groom (who, at this point, was in an undershirt). eventually the beat subsided and trays of soda were brought around to be offered to the guests. during this interlude, i presume, the groom got dressed in his finery (a fancy suit) and the next set of singing and dancing began as he was getting his hair done (blowdryer and all) in the middle of the room.

after about 30 minutes of this the guests went to their cars where we all drove to the next destinations. from time to time around the city you'll hear these caravans of cars honking, people shouting and air horns. well, that was us. our next stop was another house - perhaps the mother's? where the guests gathered out front and a different (syrian) band joined us. the beat and dancing were similar; even more clapping and gathering around the groom. then the swordplay began. two men came out with swords and shields, and soon it was just a blur of fabric and clashing metal.

at this point it was back to the car again, this time to pick up the bride. here i should mention that at first i had thought perhaps the bride was already among the crowd at the first stop. at first i thought she might be the woman all in red and gold with about a pound of makeup on her face. as it turns out, this is pretty standard wedding attire. the best way i can describe it like a mask at carnevale - exquisitely painted but still a little over the top. the elaborate bunches of fabric that make up the hijab only add to the carnevale effect. other fashion novelties: lots of kids with mullets, some choice unibrows, and little girls with crazy beehives and elaborate sequined dresses that make them look like the bride of frankenstein at a beauty pageant. so anyway, we finally picked up the bride. as you've probably guessed by now, this process consisted of guests singing, clapping, and dancing their way down to (eventually) retrieve the bride. oddly enough her attire (and the groom's) were probably the most westernized aspect of the affair. she wore a typical (typical for us) white wedding dress, complete with lots of crinoline and adorned with enough sequins and sparkles to match her glittering tiara. she was surrounded by several women who were quite dolled up themselves (venetian mask-style). we rounded them up, covered them with confetti, and were on our way.

the next, and final, stop was the reception hall. as you can imagine the guests crowded around the couple, dancing and clapping along to the beat of the drums. the guests filtered in to the hall, complete with the covered chairs a dance floor and a throne-cum-sofa for the happy couple (they did look genuinely happy, too, which i wasn't entirely expecting given the fact that they were cousins). the videographer, who had been recording the entire proceedings, had the recording being simultaneously broadcast on several screens throughout the room. as you can imagine, there was much celebration when the bride and groom entered. they made their way to the dance floor where they danced, alone at first, but then joined by several couples. on the way they exchanged rings, which i suppose represented the actual ceremony itself.

the first song we heard after entering was lil john's 'shots' (charming little ditty), which i imagine was breaking with tradition somewhat. luckily this music gave way to a steady stream of traditional, and newer, arabic music that was much better for dancing. as the lights dimmed the colored lights and disco ball lit up the dance floor and smoke flooded in from the fog machine. this was just as well, as it masked the smoke coming from the cigars and cigarettes of all the men (including the groom). the dancing was interrupted only for the 'cake show', where a cake (presumably ceremonial, since the cake we ate looked quite different) with two-foot sparklers was rolled out, which the bride and groom cut with a large sword. and the dancing continued. i discovered arabic dancing is basically a combination of swiveling hips and graceful hand gestures, which luckily wasn't too hard to pick up. there was also quite a bit of rhythmic clapping and joining hands in circles. it was lots of fun and thoroughly exhausting.

and all on a monday night!

water, water everywhere

2010-06-21T02:27:00.005-05:00

well here i am in jordan. everyone's been so welcoming and i already feel at home here, even in just a few days. still, it's strange to be so immersed in a language i'm totally unfamiliar with. i'm sure this is a phenomenon most people have experienced in some capacity, but for me it's new. in france i knew enough to get by and even if i didn't understand everything that was said, i usually got the gist of things.

but here.. well i know the alphabet and diacritic marks, which means i can sound out words. so basically i know arabic about as well as i know, say, portuguese. which is not at all. looking at it that way it's easy to get discouraged but i know things will improve and i'm anxious to start classes and really learn.

in the meantime i've been learning bits and pieces here and there. i knew pronouns and some simple nouns and verbs. so piecing things together along with vocabulary the family's teaching me ("what's breakfast? ftoor. what's tea? shy."). actually they've been good about quizzing me and making me do little tasks. yesterday i bought eggs; the vendor may have told me the price in english but, still, i came out with a kartoon bedh!

the best way i can think to describe it (i suppose it's a cliche for a reason) is with water. i wouldn't saying i'm drowning exactly, but i'm just surrounded by this language, like being dropped in the middle of an ocean. occasionally i can grab onto something - a cognate, an english word, some gesture - but for the most part i'm just floating in a sea of words. really all i'd like to be able to do is tread water. so there you have it, my goal for the summer: don't drown.

marhaban, jordan

2010-06-19T02:28:00.002-05:00

well i’ve been in jordan for under 24 hours and so far i’ve already eaten all different kinds of middle eastern food, driven all over the city of amman, and been totally immersed in arabic.

after landing, quickly buying my visa (luckily no questions asked) and gathering my luggage i was greeted by an enthusiastic kamel and his youngest daughter bana, who has a delightful smile and sparkling eyes. upon greeting me and welcoming me ‘home’, kamel instructed bana to, “hug the glenna” which she did willingly. later when kamel stopped for some quick groceries the first thing she asked me was “are you on facebook?”. she’s 11. we then moved on to other subjects: reading, basketball, horseback riding, and most importantly who i was supporting in the world cup (“not brazil??”).

we arrived at kamel’s lovey home where i was surprised to find not only a pool but (i’m told) a sauna. upstairs i met his lovely wife, mervat, and eldest daughter, aya, as well as his brother who lives in the apartment next door. it was about 5:00 but we all sat down for “lunch” which turned out to be a huge meal –chicken, onions, potatoes, carrots, eggplant with yogurt, tzatziki, rice with pine nuts. (i had bana quiz me on the meal beforehand; i can now tell you how to say ‘knife’ and ‘carrot’..) of course food was heaped on to my plate without hesitation. as soon as i finished some, more would appear. needless to say, by the end of the meal i was sufficiently stuffed.

after watching a bit of the US-slovenia game and allowing our food to digest, i headed out with the girls for some shopping. we went to the outdoor shopping mall, which is quite posh. here i learned that aya (almost 16) is a master shopper, or more accurately a master of taking her time shopping. a bored bana asked her mother if they would be in the adidas store for two hours to which she replied, “of course. it’s aya.” we stopped in several other stores (i admit i was excited to see some french ones – promod, etam, zara. and i’m told sales start next month.. this could be bad..) before ultimately leaving with the intended purchase – a birthday gift for a friend – plus a few extras.

at this point mervat dropped off the girls and talked me into going to ‘the club’ to meet an old friend of hers. we arrived at the club (where she’s not a member, though she told the parking attendant different) and walked past a christian baptism and a meeting of a japanese organization. out on the terrace we met up with the other ladies, who were just beginning their hookahs and chatting. we ordered lemonade with fresh mint leaves (delicious!) and each of the women ordered several dishes. all told, there were 10 plates of food on the table, not including various breads. hummus, pita, tabouleh, mushrooms, zucchini.. just to name a few. the visiting friend talked about her life in copenhagen and showed us pictures of her adorable (and tri-lingual) 4- and 5-year old daughters. after a while we left, mervat using my tiredness as an excuse (though truthfully i was getting sleepy).

at this point i unpacked my things, a nice luxury after five weeks of spending no more than three nights in the same place. i think i’ve displaced bana from her room, given its rather pink-heavy decorations (a stuffed dog was left on the bed to greet me), which i feel somewhat guilty about. but the family is very welcoming and i already feel quite comfortable here.

hopefully i can make the most of the next few weeks and really learn a lot of arabic and even get in some work at the museum. insha’allah.

shh...

2010-06-05T01:39:00.010-05:00

driving into bosnia the change was almost instant. the poppies still dotted the roadside, and the green hills in the distance were the same, but something about the scenery was different. the houses we passed along the border were consistently in various stages of disrepair. it was unclear whether these were unfinished and abandoned or the result of damage from the war.

as we arrived in sarajevo we passed through the new section, lined with soviet-era concrete block housing that we've heard is as depressing on the inside as it is from the outside. so we were still skeptical at what sarajevo would have to offer.

well, sarajevo rose to the challenge. our hotel, next to latinski most (better known as the bridge where archduke ferdinand was shot and wwI began), was charming and our fourth floor room had windows that opened to a view of the river and the old city on one side and a nearby mosque on the hill on the other.

as we explored the old city we were quickly smitten by its abundant mosques, cobblestone streets, beautiful roses, and little shops filled with copper and pewter. it seemed very eastern and reminded us of a little istanbul. the buildings themselves had traces of moorish and ottoman influences, with alternating stone patterns, horseshoe arches, and intricately carved wooden ablution fountains. there were a number of churches as well, both orthodox and catholic, and it was easy to see why it's characterized as a place where religions coexist harmoniously.

we wandered the streets, enjoying the architecture, the locals (some veiled, some not but all dressed rather conservatively), and the cuisine. the national dish is undoubtedly cevapcici (minced meat served inside a pita with onions), which we saw everyone eating, though kebabs were abundant as well. ice cream's another favorite, so of course we had to sample some. on our walk home, as the sun went down, the balls of lights dotting the minarets came on and we heard the call to prayer. but this was no recording; just a few hundred meters away we could actually see the muezzin atop the minaret making the call.

this charming city, with its friendly locals and colorful streets, won us over and helped us overlook bosnia's flaws (including an almost total lack of street signs that made a certain museum impossible to find - oy.).

then it was on to herzegovina! the drive to our next destination, mostar, was where we got our first taste of the stunningly beautiful scenery this country has to offer. we approached a lake whose color was so beautiful we just had to stop (maybe a few times..) to take some pictures. ah, the joys of having a car! the perks also included keeping our picnic basket stocked with supplies for our daily picnic lunches. we were happy to discover that bosnia has no shortage of picnic tables along the scenic highways.

we followed the beautiful blue-green lake for miles and were sorry to leave it once we entered mostar. but we weren't disappointed for long. once we (eventually) found our hotel (again - the street sign thing was an issue) it was just a short walk to the famous bridge over the beautiful turquoise water of the river. along the cobblestone streets we found little shops (with our favorite copper earrings), cafes, and ice cream parlors.

then we arrived at the bridge itself. we'd read about the famous 'stari most' (literally 'old bridge', original) and while there's nothing terribly spectacular about it, it's just very pleasant. the round shape makes it unique and (coupled with the well-worn cobblestones) difficult to cross without slipping. but the view of the beautiful water and the mosque down the river is just breathtaking. i honestly think i could live on that bridge and would never get tired of waking up to that sight. we must have crossed the bridge dozens of time over the course of our visit but each time i had to stop to take a picture (or twelve). "it's just so pretty!" i think we uttered that phrase (along with "look at the water!" more than any trip in my recollection.

the bridge is certainly the city's crowning glory, but the rest of the town is lovely in its own right. the ottoman presence can be felt all over, which we saw in the decorations of several old private homes (patterned carpets and cushions all over, carefully carved ceilings) and mosques (colored glass and dozens of chandeliers). i was particularly excited to climb the minaret (something i've never done before) which afforded a spectacular view of the town and, of course, the bridge.

yet it wasn't all roses (though they have quite a few of those, too). throughout the town we saw several reminders of the all-too-recent war. bullet holes in the sides of buildings, cracking plaster we passed one mosque whose cemetery was filled with graves all dated to 1994 and 1995. that the war is so recent - in my relatively short lifetime, even - is almost as unbelievable as the rebuilding they've done. not only was the famous bridge destroyed (purposely blown up by crotian forces) but all but one of the cities mosques was leveled. and yet walking around the town today you would hardly know it (UNESCO has been busy here it's obvious). still, it's not something the locals are likely to forget. and neither should we.

that we were so taken with the cities we visited here is a testament to the resilience of the people of bosnia and herzegovina. in just under 20 years they have managed to turn things around and make the country into a place that's not only visit-able but spectacular! they've capitalized on the natural beauty of the country without losing the charm of its ottoman cities. while i want to encourage people to visit the country and support their economy, at the same time i'm a little hesitant to share what i suspect might be europe's best kept secret.

playing the market

2010-06-03T01:41:00.000-05:00

after the heat and chaos of india i admit it was a bit of a shock to return to a gray, rainy europe. everything in the brussels airport seemed so sterile and commercial in comparison. a cold drizzly budapest didn't seem like a particularly attractive option. still, we made the most of our day in the city (more on that later) and by the time we moved on to croatia, we were feeling pretty good.

we arrived in zagreb without difficulty. finding the hotel was another story... whose moral is, 'always spring for the gps'. at any rate we eventually found our place, a guest house run by a colorful looking woman, whose crazy highlighted curls were offset by her bright white plastic glasses and fuschia tights. she seemed like fun.

we found we could explore most of zagreb on foot and in the better part of a day. the old city is pleasant enough, with its cobblestone streets and abundant churches (most locked up, we discovered). the few churches were busy with pious, praying devotees, but what the city seems to really love is cafes. we had read about the 'cafe culture' and national fascination with people-watching, but nowhere is it more apparent than on tkalciceva street (i know, this language is ridiculous). people apparently stop in the middle of the day but unlike the spanish siesta, the croatians take a break to have a drink and watch other people. a little weird maybe but fun too.

the downside to this cafe culture, we discovered later, was the inverse relationship of cafes to restaurants. in most croatian cities, while there was always an abundance of caffe/bars, there was often a dearth (or total absence!) of restaurants. one day we were forced to resort to fast food (though we never had to stoop to 'american donut', a stand that, evidently, serves kebabs. go figure.)

but i'm getting off topic. apart from an odd attachment to cafes, the croatians - like all sensible europeans - have wonderful outdoor markets. the one in zagreb was one of the best. it's characterized by its typical red striped umbrellas that literally cover the square in front of the cathedral. under these you can find most any kind of produce, along with eggs, cheese, and baskets (we just had to get one).

but my favorite part of the market was the flowers! just down the stairs from the main square the row of flowers. and it is delightful. the bundles of bouquets are quite diverse, some small, some elaborate, all colorful and lovely. and the prices were quite reasonable. we found a nice little bouquet we just had to get for courtney for a nice little price. those flowers ended up making it to picnics and hotels throughout croatia and abroad (well, across the border). certainly a wise investment.

on the whole we were pleasantly surprised by croatia. a little city with some charm.

agra-culture

2010-06-01T14:02:00.001-05:00

our last real stop in india (minus a half-day in delhi) was probably the most-visited city in india. agra, of crossword puzzle fame, is home to the taj mahal which of course (somehow) has now become the ultimate symbol of india and a universally-recognized landmark. i'm not sure why actually, which is an intriguing concept in itself.

we paid our 750 rupees (20 for indians, sigh) and were ushered through the first entrance portal. as we rounded the corner surrounded by dozens of other (mostly indian) tourists, we caught out first glimpse. it's one of those sights that you've seen so many times it doesn't feel new. what's surreal is that you're seeing this strangely familiar place for the first time.

what stands out most about the building for me was the size. maybe this is what everyone says, but it really is enormous! people are just dwarfed by this massive mausoleum. other than that, i was impressed by the proportions and the beautiful simplicity - the white marble and refined designs. maybe this is blasphemous, or maybe i just have a taste for the overdone (read: extensive tiles), but i still say the dome of the rock is my favorite islamic structure.

other than enjoying the architecture itself, i enjoyed watching the indian tourists almost as much as they seem to enjoy watching me. yet again we seemed to be the objects of much attention from our fellow tourists, they surreptitiously taking pictures of me (which i felt entitled me to do the same). i spent quite a while relaxing just outside the door delighting in the colorful saris against the clean white marble.

but of course there's more to agra than the taj mahal (though you certainly wouldn't know it from the postcards or tacky souvenirs). for us agra was especially meaningful because my friend manish was nice enough to drive down and join us from delhi. in addition to taking care of my mother when she finally succumbed to the heat (it was 112 that day) and helping us deal with hawkers, he showed us parts of the city we never would have seen otherwise.

he advised us against going to the red fort (as by then we had seen similar structures) and instead drove us 40 minutes away to the city of fatehpur sikri. what a treat! the complex had the typical red sandstone of indian mughal structures, and akbar himself prayed in the friday mosque. my favorite part was the smaller prayer hall, the dargah. the carved window screens (jalis) were so beautiful and delicate-looking. and to this day people tie red and yellow strings to the walls in hopes of good fortune and fertility.

our last stop the next day was the moon gardens for a rare glimpse of the taj mahal from behind. it took a surprisingly long time to get there, given their relative proximity. we ended up just across the (rather dry) river with an impressive view of the still-massive structure. parts of it were obscured by brick walls or barbed wire, which i think only made the view that much more intriguing. it was a nice parting shot to remember agra by.

our next stop was delhi and, sadly, out of india. but hopefully not for long!

holy, holy, holy

2010-05-30T13:56:00.002-05:00

well from the colors of rajasthan we moved on to the holy city of varanasi, which is just one of its many names. it is often referred to as banaras, and less often referred to as kashi or.. another name i’ve already forgotten (apologies).

people later asked us what we thought of varanasi; our rather banal reply of ‘interesting’ was met with laughter and rightly so. it’s surely an understatement. but a city like varnasi is hard to describe. certainly it’s unlike any place we’d ever been, and what we saw there was fascinating. so i’ll do my best to go beyond the ‘interesting’.

we arrived (which in itself was a godsend, given the strike/slowdown of air india employees we left behind in delhi) to an airport whose baggage claim consisted of a fifty foot conveyor belt in a tiny room. i shoved my way in and got our bags, while continuously dissuading the would-be coolee hoping for a tip. our taxi ride into the city, a mere 11 miles away, took an hour and a half. we learned, among other things, that traffic and electricity our two of the main problems facing varanasi.

upon arriving at our hotel, ganges view, we got a glimpse of the river as promised. and after a refreshing nap (yes, nap. can you tell i wasn’t feeling 100%?) we decided to venture out for an evening boat ride. having been warned that the ganges is dirty i was expecting worse. sure, it’s a murky greenish color and there are plastic bottles and refuse floating around the banks, but the way people are bathing and splashing in the water, you’d never know. i suppose absolving souls of all sin has a way of overshadowing such earthly concerns.

our first boat ride, just before dusk, gave us a good introduction to all the ghats and temples along the river. we floated along at a leisurely pace (though it was not so leisurely for our industrious boat driver), watching as people washed clothes, prepared for ritual pujas, lit funeral pyres, and just enjoyed the river.

after that night we thought we had seen most of what the river had to offer. wrong! the following evening we took a rickshaw ride down to dasawamedh, the main temple/ghat, for a different perspective. walking down the steps to the river is a fun experience in itself, as you pass all the cows, the traditional parasols (unfortunately becoming less common), and people preparing offerings. from here we took another boat ride. we followed basically the reverse course of our previous trip so we assumed the sights would be similar (but hoped our cameras would hold out this time – the batteries of both cameras had died the night before).

we got in the boat just as the sun was beginning to go down and people were starting to gather in preparation for the big nightly pujas (prayer ceremonies). but first we continued farther down the river to manikarnika, the principal cremation ghat. our driver stopped the boat and we sat floating, transfixed. in the thirty or so minutes we sat watching we saw several bodies brought down to the river, one fire being lit, and several others continue to burn. we learned that the cremations are continuous and there are often 300 or 400 in a single day. first the body is dipped into the holy river for a final ritual bath. then it is brought out to the banks to dry. meanwhile the eldest son will shave his head, purify himself in the water and dress all in white. he brings down a torch from the eternal flame in the shiva temple which he carries as he circles the body 5 times and then lights the fire. there can be no tears, or the soul of the deceased will be disturbed (this explains why women are never present). we watched in almost silence, fascinated by both the holiness and the unfamiliarity of the whole procedure.

finally the spell was broken by sounds of puja preparations wafting down from farther down the river. we turned around and paddled a little farther down to the main ghat where we again took up anchor, so to speak. people were already beginning to gather, both on land and on water. devotees filled the steps along the river as priests lit the ritual fires and began placing offerings of food and flowers. we watched as families came down to the river to light their candles and release them. we did the same, releasing our little candle/flower bowls (made of dried leaves) and watching as they floated away. just as the sun went down and darkness began to set in, the ceremony began as worshipers started singing and clapping. some of the visitors in the boats surrounding us joined in too. again we watched transfixed by the unfamiliar ceremony, totally immersed.

eventually we were able to tear ourselves away, watching as the reflections of the lights on the water grew smaller with each oar stroke. we saw other parts of varanasi during our stay - crazy streets, busy temples - but surely the essence of varanasi is there on the ganges, the holiest city on the holy river.

color theory

2010-05-26T02:21:00.004-05:00

well we’ve arrived in rajasthan. we had heard that this state was known for being very colorful and early on this proved to be true. even on the train approaching udaipur we could see bright colors dotting the fields and rows of vegetation. women everywhere, it seems, wear bright oranges, pinks and yellows, and men’s turbans are often swirls of orange or red. one of our first experiences of the local color was in a brief visit to the local vegetable market. women in green and orange saris seemed to match their produce, sitting before their orange tomatoes and gourds and light green guava and legumes. the mix of colors, along with the various other sounds and smells, made for a stimulating introduction to rajasthan.

we continued to encounter color everywhere we went. at one of the local memorial sites a group of women in their variegated saris and dupattas gathered for a ritual cleansing after a recent death. again on worship day at a shiva temple we witnessed groups of men and women seated chanting, their head coverings bright even in the dim, womb-like interior of the temple. as we entered jodhpur it was clear this city was to be no exception. upon entering the main market area (central for both locals and tourists, what few there are), we were immediately confronted with rows of fabrics - meter upon meter of bright fuchsias and marigolds bundled in neat stacks. further on, nearer the landmark clock tower, we saw carts full of bangles, bound together with shoelaces, their glass and gold embellishment glittering in the setting sun. then as night approached and we ascended to a rooftop restaurant we caught a glimpse at the counterpart to all these warm rich colors: the beautiful blues of the houses of jodhpur. the view from the fort the following day was even more stunning. as we walked down the hill entering the small residential streets we got a closer look at the blues, greens, and indigo that color the doors and walls of the town below.

more and more i’ve begun to notice here that color, like religion, is almost a way of life. even garbage trucks and city buses are decorated not only with deities but with bright splashes of color. women wear their brightest scarves, not only for religious rituals, but for working in the field or gathering water (which they really do carry on their heads). the whole notion reminds me of what i’ve heard about rangoli, chalk art decoration that adorns the entryways in many houses in the south. each morning women will diligently create elaborate abstract designs in colored chalk or powder on the ground, knowing that they will only be trampled and scattered by careless feet, to be recreated again the next day. there’s no special occasion required for such use of color; the beauty of the color is just a part of daily life. not a bad concept, i have to say.

hippies, hikers, and himalayas

2010-05-20T23:51:00.010-05:00

that would be kathmandu in a nutshell. but that wouldn't really do the city justice. the fourth 'h', or rather the first, would have to be 'holy'. i mean, you can't spit without touching a shrine or temple of some kind (note: while spitting seems to be common i'm guessing this would be frowned upon in actual practice). i've never seen a city this focused on faith; it even has jerusalem beat. of course, like the middle east, kathmandu is a bit of a mix. along with devout buddhist and hindu devotees there are the new age wannabes, hippies, and rastafarians, similar to the tour groups of pilgrims that flock to jerusalem (though i'm still not sure which group is more obnoxious).

what's first immediately apparent in nepal is that religion is everywhere. not just omnipresent, but almost tangible. kathmandu and surrounding districts - patan and bhaktapur - are literally filled with temples just feet from one another. a few days ago i had never seen a shiva linga in person; now i'm quite sure i've seen dozens, if not hundreds. in just a few days we were able to hit all the major highlights, spiritually and architecturally speaking. we even managed to squeeze in some views of the mountains.

i'll level with you. after a while, the temples - and there were hundreds - started to run together a little bit. and this is coming from someone who gives people dirty looks for saying that all cathedrals look alike. while i did appreciate the novelty of being able to identify certain deities i had just studied (thank you, non-western art history), the sheer amount of visual information is almost overwhelming. still, it was fascinating to watch the devotees - monks and laypeople - quietly chanting mantras or giving offerings. if you can get past the people hawking their wares or guide services, it's quite pleasant.

along with religion, nature seems to form the second of the twin pillars that constitute nepal. with the himalayas as a backdrop it's not hard to imagine why. so our first morning in the city we set out to see the famous mountains by air. we got up at the crack of dawn - 5am to be exact - to catch our flight. (side note: of the five airlines i saw, four were named after hindu or buddhist deities.) after paying extra fees and waiting nearly another hour at the tiny gate we boarded our itty bitty propeller plane. everyone had a window seat and as we ascended the flight attendants pointed out the mountains to each individual passenger. the views were stunning, and even through the scratched windows you could make out the craggy rocks and snow-capped peaks. certainly awe-inspiring and yet i still cannot understand people's desire to climb these things.

our second look at the mountains came this morning, when we got up at an even earlier hour (so obscene i won't even print it here) to drive to nearby nagarkot where we were promised a fantastic view of the sunrise. after an interminable 20 minutes of driving 10 miles an hour over bumpy dirt roads we started making our way uphill (this was when our driver decided to speed up to 50 mph). the road can only be described as tortuous (torturous, if you happen to get carsick, which miraculously we did not). with each turn you were sure there wasn't any higher point, only to be greeted with another hairpin turn. every now and then our driver would slow down to about 40 when we had to pass a group of mopeds or a delivery truck. did i mention there are no seatbelts in the backseat? at any rate, somehow we made it to our destination, a hotel at the top of the mountain that afforded incredible views, as promised. the mountain range was beautiful, with its staggered peaks, each level a darker shade of blue than the last. within a few minutes the sun began to peek over one of the crags and slowly lit the whole valley. the effect was stunning. definitely a top 5 sunrise. we followed this up with a delicious and expensive breakfast at the swanky hotel on the hilltop.

so there you have it: nepal in a nutshell. natural splendors, incredible architecture, the people's tranquil dispositions, and the delicious new spicy foods - i must say i'm impressed. and we haven't even gone shopping yet!

dil dilli

2010-05-20T03:11:00.002-05:00

alright, let's back up a minute. delhi deserves a better post than just a driving explanation. so i'll go back to the beginning.

well first off i don't think i've ever anticipated a trip as much as this one (specifically india i mean). the entire plane ride i was just giddy; i think i was probably grinning as we pulled our luggage off the belt (though in fairness half of that was probably relief). not even a 14-hour flight could sap my excitement. although it was a pretty pleasant flight; international movies on demand tends to keep people happy. though i think i was probably the only one on the plane who watched a bollywood movie followed by bonnie and clyde. at any rate i was eager to get out and see india. even the wave of heat (like walking into a hot car) that greeted us as we left the airport was almost welcoming, in an odd way.

my first impressions of india weren't the dirt or the crowds - that i'd been expecting. what i was struck by was the spirituality that seemed to be everywhere. deities appear on dashboards, business logos, and of course in small shrines dotting each street.

delhi, as i hinted at below, is a pretty crazy place. we quickly discovered that we couldn't walk anywhere and auto-rickshaws became our main form of transportation. we only had a few days but we did manage to hit some of the highlights. for me this was seeing the islamic architecture (mamluk and mughal) with that typical indian red sandstone. the qutab minar complex has some spectacular carved ornamentation and humayun's tomb shows an early persian influence (pre-taj mahal). we even made it to the modern art museum (coincidentally on international museum day), which showcased an interesting mix of traditional indian motifs (read: more gods) and western styles and techniques.

and the food! well, let's just say that anywhere where it's okay to eat indian food every day is alright with me. we've tried some different dishes and some old favorites, though we're looking forward to having some mangoes, chai, and lassis. it was just so fun to be surrounded by these parts of india, some familiar and some new. the beautiful clothes, the movie stars, the music (our tv was constantly switched to bollywood or punjab music channels).

alright, so delhi as a city is big and pretty overwhelming. just thinking about maneuvering around connaught place (the main square and a giant roundabout that's currently full of construction) is tough. maybe i have a soft spot for the city because it was my first introduction to india. but really is that such a bad thing?

incredibly india

2010-05-19T11:18:00.005-05:00

well first off, we arrived safely in Delhi. i think i can say so far that India is everything i expected it to be (hot, noisy, crowded) and more. it's lively and exciting and i'm loving it. India just has the most.. culture (for lack of a better word) than any place i've been to. everything is so.. indian.

perhaps the most jarring thing about Delhi is the driving. i was prepared for reckless, ridiculous driving. but after being in Delhi for just two days I can attest that it is as crazy as they say. (‘they’, the faceless guidebook gurus I suppose.) and this wasn’t our first exposure to ridiculous driving – we thought we were well prepared having been to Morocco, land of no lanes and tiny streets, and even Greece, land of aggressive drivers. but India has them all beat. just on our drive in from the airport we passed bikes, rickshaws, mopeds, auto-rickshaws (basically a motorized scooter with a bench attached), oxen, buses, and even an elephant. the streets themselves are a free-for-all; flashing lights and horns mean get out of my way, red lights mean jam right up next to all the vehicles around you. three lanes (ha) of traffic really means four. at any given moment you could probably reach out and pat the deity adorning the rickshaw next to you, though on the back they all read ‘distance please’ (perhaps dramatic irony?). honking is not an angry gesture but a mandatory one, used to signal one’s presence. our driver confirmed that if you don’t have a horn, you don’t get a license.

but of course, as with any way of life, you quickly get used to it. we took auto rickshaws with pleasure, sitting back to enjoy the breeze and admire our drivers’ impressive skills. after two days of this constant beeping and skillful maneuvering, on our taxi ride to the airport i heard an unfamiliar sound. it was a turn signal.

summer forecast

2010-05-14T08:09:00.001-05:00

this summer's plans include 7 countries and dozens of cities over 3 months. it's going to be a whirlwind; stay tuned.......