28 Dec 2009
The people in Kerala are much different than up north; granted, we have only stopped a few places in the state- Kumarakom, Alleppey, Munnar- but the locals we have come across have been friendlier. The air is more laid back here; there are no beggars, everyone just does there thing and it works out. I don't know about Cochin, or other tourist spots, but the small towns and villages we've come across has hard-working people; they seem happy.
Thar Desert
14 Dec 2009
First experience out in the desert was just great- "endless" (so it looks from the dunes) openness, dryness, lifelessness extends out until it hits a few short mountains and then the sky, where the sun flames a bright pink, neon-ing the small, scattered clouds surrounded it shades of red and orange and pink and eventually disappearing quickly into grey darkness but leving remanents of its vivid illumination to linger in the sky more slowly and the reddish atmosphere gradually turns to dark blue and dark night. The best part about staying out in the nothingness and sand- away from roads, lights and the rest of the world- stars eveywhere, everywhere. So many that when you lay, glued to the earth, looking up (or down with some subconsicous reasoning), you can't even see the whole of it, and you have to turn your head left and right and all around to tkae in the blanket of black and jewels, hundreds and thousands of them, until time stops for a split second when you catch glimpse of the magical shooting star- and how abundant they are out here! every few minutes- and though exhausted, I stay up to revel at the night and its wonderouos ways. I wake up every couple hours and resist falling back to sleep...
First experience out in the desert was just great- "endless" (so it looks from the dunes) openness, dryness, lifelessness extends out until it hits a few short mountains and then the sky, where the sun flames a bright pink, neon-ing the small, scattered clouds surrounded it shades of red and orange and pink and eventually disappearing quickly into grey darkness but leving remanents of its vivid illumination to linger in the sky more slowly and the reddish atmosphere gradually turns to dark blue and dark night. The best part about staying out in the nothingness and sand- away from roads, lights and the rest of the world- stars eveywhere, everywhere. So many that when you lay, glued to the earth, looking up (or down with some subconsicous reasoning), you can't even see the whole of it, and you have to turn your head left and right and all around to tkae in the blanket of black and jewels, hundreds and thousands of them, until time stops for a split second when you catch glimpse of the magical shooting star- and how abundant they are out here! every few minutes- and though exhausted, I stay up to revel at the night and its wonderouos ways. I wake up every couple hours and resist falling back to sleep...
West
12 Dec 2009
Hours and hours on the bus, as we got west-bound through Rajasthan, and the green, bright fields and red dirt gradually transforms into drier, browner desert. Low, plateau-ed off mountains stand in the background and the space is mostly empty, but we pass small villages on the way and make random stops filling the bus with locals sitting and standing in the aisles. And one woman sitting on the ground near us, well, she's beautiful. In the traditional Rajastani wear, she's wrapped in color, odorned with studs and jewerly, dramatic eyes outlined darkly, a scarf covering her head as a sign of marriage, and her stern glance reaches me and I'm locked onto her. I wonder of her own wearabouts, Jodhpur to Jaisalmer...
Jaisamer is fantastic. The people, not so much. Much of the city still operates within the fort, a maze of alleys filled with tiny shops, houses, and cows. The Jain temples within are extraordinary- intricately carved and well in-tact. Of course, it's difficult to become fully immersed in these fine moments, as we are hounded, stared and harrassed by the men of the city. As expected, being toursits in tourist-y spots, we are asked to come into stores, take a look "looking is free", scammed with inflated prices (which in most cases amounts to $1 USD or less but its the principle of it that insists haggling), but Jaisalmer takes the annoying salesman to a whole new level. We try our best to ignore it all, but its certainly difficult and frustrating to a point where we'd rather stay in our hotel or a restaurant for hours rather than walk around the streets. Granted, not everyone here is like this, but most are. Probably the only real annoyance of traveling in India, as everything else is great or easier to process, but we realize how much of a difference it makes to travel with a guy.
Hours and hours on the bus, as we got west-bound through Rajasthan, and the green, bright fields and red dirt gradually transforms into drier, browner desert. Low, plateau-ed off mountains stand in the background and the space is mostly empty, but we pass small villages on the way and make random stops filling the bus with locals sitting and standing in the aisles. And one woman sitting on the ground near us, well, she's beautiful. In the traditional Rajastani wear, she's wrapped in color, odorned with studs and jewerly, dramatic eyes outlined darkly, a scarf covering her head as a sign of marriage, and her stern glance reaches me and I'm locked onto her. I wonder of her own wearabouts, Jodhpur to Jaisalmer...
Jaisamer is fantastic. The people, not so much. Much of the city still operates within the fort, a maze of alleys filled with tiny shops, houses, and cows. The Jain temples within are extraordinary- intricately carved and well in-tact. Of course, it's difficult to become fully immersed in these fine moments, as we are hounded, stared and harrassed by the men of the city. As expected, being toursits in tourist-y spots, we are asked to come into stores, take a look "looking is free", scammed with inflated prices (which in most cases amounts to $1 USD or less but its the principle of it that insists haggling), but Jaisalmer takes the annoying salesman to a whole new level. We try our best to ignore it all, but its certainly difficult and frustrating to a point where we'd rather stay in our hotel or a restaurant for hours rather than walk around the streets. Granted, not everyone here is like this, but most are. Probably the only real annoyance of traveling in India, as everything else is great or easier to process, but we realize how much of a difference it makes to travel with a guy.
Taj Mahal
5 December 2009
A monument that truly deserves all it's hype. From far away, in flat parts of Agra, it stands against haze so majestically and taken out of a fairytale. After I pass through the main gate- and even as you approach the gate, you see it through the enclosed archway, just a tiny center portion of it, but it still makes your heart jump with anticipation of what will come with entering- even in front of me, just so grand and perfect, its surreal. I stand in awe for a long time (while trying to ignore the goons and fake bothersome tour guides) and walk up to the detailed and perfect white marble, and am captured by this most romantic structure in the world.
A monument that truly deserves all it's hype. From far away, in flat parts of Agra, it stands against haze so majestically and taken out of a fairytale. After I pass through the main gate- and even as you approach the gate, you see it through the enclosed archway, just a tiny center portion of it, but it still makes your heart jump with anticipation of what will come with entering- even in front of me, just so grand and perfect, its surreal. I stand in awe for a long time (while trying to ignore the goons and fake bothersome tour guides) and walk up to the detailed and perfect white marble, and am captured by this most romantic structure in the world.
Delhi
1 Dec 2009
Two days is more than enough for us. As the train pulls in closer to the city, I see so much trash, everywhere along the tracks, the grass and dirt below is barely visible on some parts because of the thick layer of waste sitting on top, just plastic bags and paper and rags and I don't even know, and a bit further back from the tracks are sheds and tents and the slums. People have made homes out of pieces of tarp; they live in complete trash; they own almost nothing and this is their community. It's a sad, real picture. Description can't do it, and even when you see it, it's hard to believe.
Around Paraganj (near the New Delhi train station), there is so much congestion. Cars and rickshaws and bicycles and cows and honking and blaring horns and people and people in your face telling you to buy this or eat here, it drives me crazy as there is no room to breathe. After a walk outside, you can feel a film of soot and dirt all over you. At the entrance off the main street into the tiny, crowded alleyway that leads to our hostel is a "bathroom", which equates to a wall used as a urinal, the smell is nauseating, and it's right next to a man frying up some bajya to sell; gag, no I would not like some.
The city is completely spread out, but we can't muster the effort to explore fully so we take a trip out to Lotus Temple (a temple committed to Bah'ai Faith): gorgeous, mysterious. The trip takes about an hour on a highway and the way back passes us through first an area of construction, high, shiny buildings, what one would expect of a city, but completely not expect granted parts of Delhi and even more surprising, we then pass through a leafy, green neighborhood that could strangely be mistaken as a suburban street in NJ, with clean streets and honking horns. The contrast in Delhi is remarkable.
Two days is more than enough for us. As the train pulls in closer to the city, I see so much trash, everywhere along the tracks, the grass and dirt below is barely visible on some parts because of the thick layer of waste sitting on top, just plastic bags and paper and rags and I don't even know, and a bit further back from the tracks are sheds and tents and the slums. People have made homes out of pieces of tarp; they live in complete trash; they own almost nothing and this is their community. It's a sad, real picture. Description can't do it, and even when you see it, it's hard to believe.
Around Paraganj (near the New Delhi train station), there is so much congestion. Cars and rickshaws and bicycles and cows and honking and blaring horns and people and people in your face telling you to buy this or eat here, it drives me crazy as there is no room to breathe. After a walk outside, you can feel a film of soot and dirt all over you. At the entrance off the main street into the tiny, crowded alleyway that leads to our hostel is a "bathroom", which equates to a wall used as a urinal, the smell is nauseating, and it's right next to a man frying up some bajya to sell; gag, no I would not like some.
The city is completely spread out, but we can't muster the effort to explore fully so we take a trip out to Lotus Temple (a temple committed to Bah'ai Faith): gorgeous, mysterious. The trip takes about an hour on a highway and the way back passes us through first an area of construction, high, shiny buildings, what one would expect of a city, but completely not expect granted parts of Delhi and even more surprising, we then pass through a leafy, green neighborhood that could strangely be mistaken as a suburban street in NJ, with clean streets and honking horns. The contrast in Delhi is remarkable.
Only in India:
27 Nov 2009 I miss the mountains, even before we have left; the jagged, snowy peaks, the slanted eyes and youthful skin, the dog gangs making a ruckus at midnight every night (ok, maybe I don't miss this, but it is quite a strange occurence- during the day, the stray dogs mosey and lay about and don't do much of anything but at late hours, all you can hear is barking and howling and what I could only imagine as street battles).
After climbing up to the roof and securing our backpacks, we board the simple bus that will take us 5 hours to Pathankot and it begins off down, down the mountains and the grey and white peaks turn subtler and gentler and greener as we descend these windy, tiny streets, the bus filling up with locals in the seats and aisles.
I drift off to sleep but awake to hear, in a split-second, a crash of windows shattering, a woman's scream, and a million tiny clear pieces fall on top of me, and my instinct ducks myself under my arms as I get covered. We see that the outside ledge of the bus caught onto a branch, causing the row of top windows to immediately and simultaneously shatter and as everyone looks around a bit confused, but making sure everyone else is ok, we wait to see what happens next: the bus keeps on for a few minutes until we get into a small town, where it stops for 5 minutes, the bus driver not saying a word to anyone, everyone brushes off the bits of glass from their bags and sweaters and seats and that's that; we continue on for the remaining 3.5 hours, with scattered and shattered glass rolling all around.
After climbing up to the roof and securing our backpacks, we board the simple bus that will take us 5 hours to Pathankot and it begins off down, down the mountains and the grey and white peaks turn subtler and gentler and greener as we descend these windy, tiny streets, the bus filling up with locals in the seats and aisles.
I drift off to sleep but awake to hear, in a split-second, a crash of windows shattering, a woman's scream, and a million tiny clear pieces fall on top of me, and my instinct ducks myself under my arms as I get covered. We see that the outside ledge of the bus caught onto a branch, causing the row of top windows to immediately and simultaneously shatter and as everyone looks around a bit confused, but making sure everyone else is ok, we wait to see what happens next: the bus keeps on for a few minutes until we get into a small town, where it stops for 5 minutes, the bus driver not saying a word to anyone, everyone brushes off the bits of glass from their bags and sweaters and seats and that's that; we continue on for the remaining 3.5 hours, with scattered and shattered glass rolling all around.
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