October 20th, 1999: Mother India

So we had heard a lot about India before we got here from other travellers.
Some said they just hated it - it was dirty, and polluted, and everyone was
trying to rip you off. Others said they loved it - it was colorful and
exciting and passionate, and the food taste great. Up until a month ago, I
was leaning toward the former camp - China had worn me down, and the idea of
battling people just to buy a bottle of water didn't appeal to me. Also the
idea of being barraged with beggars and sick people wasn't what I was in the
mood for either.

However, time in Nepal changed that. Nepal has a certain flavor of India,
and the more time we spent there, the more comfortable I became. Also, we
kept meeting people who had just come from India with wonderful stories of
beautiful sights and friendly people. The icing on the cake were two women
we met from New Zealand who had just come from India two days before. They
were overflowing with excitement for the country, and were already counting
down their days in Nepal so that they could return.

So, armed with their list of suggestions, we changed our itinerary from
flying into Delhi to fly into Varnassi. We had not intended to go to
Varnassi originally, as many people we had met had told stories of dead
bodies (Varnassi is a holy city, so Hindu people come here to be cremated),
pushy rickshaw drivers, and plenty of con artists. However, the Kiwi girls
loved Varnassi, and with their infectious enthusiasm we changed our plans.

So I arrived at the Kathmandu airport with a bit of sore throat - I assumed
it was just my pre-flight jitters, and paid it little notice. Eric and I
took the opportunity to weigh ourselves on the Indian Airline baggage scales
(to the airline staff's amusement) and it looks like we both lost over 10
pounds on our trek. Don't know if we can keep it off in India, with less
exercise and good food...

The flight was smooth and short, but still gave me enough time to get
thoroughly anxious (only 3 more flights to get me home - I can't wait until
they are over!). Eric enjoyed the inflight Indian meal, and did his best to
ignore me. Upon arrival we disregarded the overpriced taxis, and hopped on
the city bus which took us into town.

We then were dropped in front of a bunch of rickshaw drivers who were all
drooling over the sight of Americans - again we have reverted to being
walking dollar signs. We went with Mr. Khan - a seemingly kind middle-aged
man who would gladly take us to the old town for us to walk on our own and
pick a hotel. But not so fast - Mr. Khan has to pull over and show us his
books of references from other tourists singing the praises of his honesty
and helpfulness - especially keeping people out of danger. He told us
stories of sick tourists from the hotels near the river (he said they use
river water in their showers) and tour boats that sink due to them being
overfull. I am feeling increasingly crappy, so we take Mr. Kahn's advice
(against Eric's better judgement) and go to his slightly overpriced hotel so
I can get in bed.

So while Eric goes out to check things out, I sleep, only to wake to find I
have a fever of 103F. I start popping Tylenol like mad, in hopes of
avoiding a visit to a doctor. Eric returns to tell stories of seeing the
place where they burn the bodies, and of lots of people hitting him up for
money.

The next day I still feel like a wreck, so Eric goes out on a sunrise boat
ride alone. They take you up and down the river to look at the ghats, which
are sets of steps that go down to the river, and people come here in the
morning to bathe. The boat trip was unfortunately arranged by Mr. Kahn, so
Eric paid top dollar. We realized it would take a few days in India to
figure out the money, so spending a few extra dollars (and I really mean a
few - less than $10) on the boat ride, rickshaws, and hotels was fine by us.

By the time Eric gets back, I am feeling marginally better - my fever has
broken, and though I still feel weak and sick, I agree to finally go out and
see India. So we get a bicycle rickshaw to take us to the old city, and we
immediately hit massive traffic: rickshaws, motorcycles, cars, trucks,
buses, cows, pedestrians, oxen drawn carts - you think of it and it was
there. And everyone is honking and the pollution is awful - but the most
amazing thing happened: it was completely peaceful. I felt completely
safe, and was incredibly comfortable with the surroundings. Maybe this has
come from our 2 1/2 months of travel - or maybe the trek brought on some
calm - either way, I was truly shocked at how at home I was just hanging out
in our rickshaw and watching the world go by.

So we go to the old city - no cars allowed - and walk around in all the old
alleyways and passages. There are cows everywhere, as well as cow dung, but
aside from that the dirt isn't too bothersome. We again get hit up by
everyone we see for something - boat ride, silk shop, give me a rupee - but
we just ignore them and walk around and take it all in. The women here are
virtually all in saris - beautiful and colorful. We see a bunch of yaks in
the water for a bath - only their heads and backs surfacing, as I would
imagine a bunch of hippos would do. A small Indian boy is swimming and
diving in next to the yaks, and he keeps insisting we look as he does a big
dive - just like kids at home would do.

So the next day I am still not feeling well, and with the risk of malaria
and other things, I bite the bullet and we go and see an Indian doctor. The
whole event was actually fine - he doesn't have to do much poking and
prodding for just a sore throat. He did hand me a thermometer to put in my
mouth that was just sort of lying on his desk - I initially hesitated to put
it in my mouth (acting like I don't know what you do with it), but then he
took it from me and shoved it in my mouth (while I let my imagination run
wild as to where it had been previously). When we were done with the
thermometer he did give it to his assistant, who took it to the other room
(for sterilization, I assumed) so I felt a bit better about that. My fever
was gone, so he filled up my 75 rupee visit ($2) with lots of other advice -
gargle with salt water, suck on some cloves and drink ginger tea for the
throat; snort oil up your nose to help ward off all the pollution and lessen
your asthma. He gave me a prescription for antibiotics in case my throat
didn't get better, so in the end I was glad I went.

From Varnassi we took the overnight train to Agra, so see the Taj Mahal. We
spent the morning cruising through the fort there, napped in the hot
afternoon, and then went to the Taj Mahal for the sunset. We had to wait in
a long line to get in, as Fridays are free, but I must say it was well worth
the wait. It was truly one of the most beautiful buildings/spaces I have
ever seen. Despite millions of people crawling all over the place, and kids
screaming and people talking, it was unbelievably peacful and serene. The
landscape design was just perfect. I actually got quite choked up: I never
in my life thought I would ever see this place, and it also begins the end
of our trip, as it was the last "landmark" on our list of things to see. We
spent three or so hours watching the light change and just sitting and
watching the building - I could have stayed for days.

Another thing is happening that brings back memories of China: people are
again asking to take our picture - we even had a boy ask for our autograph!
Indians appear to be the friendliest people I have ever met - we have in
only a matter of days been asked how many children we have and how many
brothers and sisters we have at least a dozen times. Granted, this probably
is also the same trait that makes for pushy rickshaw drivers and salesmen...

From Agra we took the bus to Fatehpur Sikri, a "ghost town", abandonded by
the ruler who built it only 20 years or so after it was built. We got stuck
with a crappy guide, who kept taking us to marble stalls and other rip-offs
in the middle of our tour. We gave him a piece of our mind at the end, and
sent him on his way. The town was amazing though - all red sandstone and
marble, and in amazingly pristine condition, especially considering it was
400 years old.

From there we caught the bus to Bharatpur, which puts us officially now in
Rajasthan, one of the regions of India that borders Pakistan. Now I can
imagine my mother's blood pressure rising, with what I am sure you are
hearing in the news about the trouble in Pakistan. But if we didn't make an
effort to read the paper once in a while, we wouldn't even know that
anything is going on. And, with the military coup, Pakistan is a bit to
busy to worry about invading India right now, so I think we can spend the
next week here without getting in too much trouble.

Bharatpur is the home of the Keoladeo Ghana National Park, a world renowned
bird sanctuary. It certainly didn't dissapoint - we had perfect timing, as
birds from as far away as Siberia are here now for their migration. We saw
not hundreds, but thousands of birds: painted storks, which are white and
pink and black, shading their new babies; kingfishers in blue and brown and
white; beautiful green and blue parakeets that look like they are right out
of a pet shop. WE even got treated to monitor lizards, samba deer,
mongooses, frogs, and to my dismay, a 5 ft long python. the whole park was
right out of a movie - Indian women strolling in colorful saris with
umbrellas; white women in Indian pajama outfits and big hats in a rickshaw
with their binoculars - it could have easily been a hundred years ago. It
was an unbelieveably relaxing day, and, as the tour book claimed, will
probably be a highlight of our trip.

So from there we took the bus to Jaipur, the capital of Rajashtan, and also
known as the "pink" city due to its pink sandstone buildings. (One note on
the bus ride: we saw Indian driving at its best - our bus insisting on
passing this other bus - to the point that he drove a car coming the other
way off the road, and got back in our lane just in time to miss a big truck.
And I worry about flying...) We decided to live it up, and are spending
$30 a night to stay in a former palace. The room is complete with Indian
antiques, including a beautiful carved bed with inlaid tile and
strategically placed mirrors (yeah, baby!). The lobby is full of big wicker
chairs (again, right out of a movie) and a stuffed tiger or two. I slept
like at home, which was much needed.

There is so much more to tell, like the puppet we bought that looks just
like our friend Jeanne, or the cows - oh, the cows. But all in good time...

One last note for those of you waiting for a postcard: I kept forgetting to
mention that we lost our entire address list back in Bangkok - so we have no
one's address. But don't worry, we are thinking of you, and realize we will
be home before you know it!

namaste,

Sue and Eric