So I thought that the trek would be my last e-mail, but apparently more stuff decided to happen. Since the trek went a little longer than expected, the extra trekking days cut into my shopping days. We decided that the morning after my last e-mail would be my major shopping day, as well as going to the Indian airlines office to print out my ticket (since apparently here and in Nepal they won't even let you into the airport building without the ticket, even if it is an e-ticket). However when we woke up we discovered that there was another big strike or protest going on. No cars were driving anywhere, not even bicycles or rickshaws because protesters were letting the air out of tires. Furthermore no shops were open either. We decided to try to go to the airline office anyways by walking. It was so eerie to see these streets of which we almost got run over every 3 seconds on before, now completely empty of wheeled vehicles. The fact that all the stores were all locked up enhanced the eeriness since the restaurants usually blare music and store owners shout after you as you walk down the streets. However now, everyone just walked around as if in a dream, on empty quite streets, looking aimless as if not knowing what to do. It was hard to figure out what exactly what was going on, but I think it was a Maoist protest protesting the current administration. Maoists are not the majority however, but we got the sense that many people were cooperating because they were scared. There were a few stores very quietly open, with their metal grates only half open so all anyone from the outside could were people's feet. We made it to the airline office and then headed back to the hotel since nothing else was open.
The next day we heard from Ratna that there were 25 cars burned. Even though Dad and I felt safe walking around, I feel like I got out of Nepal in the nick of time in terms of at least avoiding logistical complications. Nepal is a very new democracy, so it seems to be going through quite a bit of growing pains right now. On the last day my dad's friend Madu, a thangka painter, came to talk to us because we did not have much time when we first saw him in Bhaktipur. Madu and Dad have a special connection, they just really enjoy each others conversation and seem to understand each other well. Madu seemed particularly concerned with my future relationships and being cautious about who I choose as a husband, as well as my relationship with dad. At times it almost felt like a Nepalese therapy session (meaning the therapist does the talking/ advice), but it was done with purely sweet intentions and I enjoyed getting to know him better. Later in the day we met with Ratna again in Patan. Both Ratna and Madu showered me with presents. I always feel a little embarrassed at the end of trips in Asia because I often get showered with gifts but never know what I can give back. Dad took Ratna and his wife out to a nice Italian dinner in Thamel where we introduced them to some new things, like penne al a vodka and brownies.
This morning I got to the airport 3 hours early ( an hour before the ticket counter even opened) and safely got back to India. The air in the taxi blew on me like a hot air blow dryer and I knew that the monsoons hadn't hit North India yet. I am now at the program center killing time before my next flight back to the states! Apparently another girl on my program is flying out with me. For all of you that want to know, my flight is on Air France #AF 255 from Delhi to Paris and then AF 012 from Paris to NY where I should arrive around 12:45. It is nice to see the staff here again, though it strange to be here without the rest of the group. I found out though that I got the highest Hindi mark, as well as doing well on the rest of my classes. So the next time I see daylight will be in the US, though it hasn't quite sunk in that I am leaving Asia, I feel like I am ready to come back. I'll send out probably one or two more e-mails: one letting you know I arrived back ok, and one more when I posted my pictures.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Anapurna trekking
So I am alive! I survived! It has been quite the journey, and I suspect this e-mail will be long. I have so many beautiful pictures of Nepal and mountains, but they will have to wait unfortunately until I get back to the states because the internet here is just to slow to be worth it.
So went to Pokhara to catch a 5 am plane to a place called Jomsom. The flight have to be really early because the wind picks up in the afternoon and is too dangerous to fly in. We were worried because the weather has been kinda bad, basically the monsoons started while we were trekking and so we often battled rain and cloudy weather. The flight was really beautiful with a great view of this huge ice fall/ glacier.
Upon landing, we put on our back packs and started to walk up the mountain right away. Our basic plan was to land in Jomsom, walk about 2 hours up to a place called Kagbeni, and the slowly make our way down the mountain back to Pokhara. Dad planned it out so it would be a nice relaxing trek. We would hike in the morning for about 2-4 hours (sometimes it was only 1.5 hours) and then relax the rest of the day in the village. We planned the trek to be about 8 days, 9 if the weather looked good. We started our trek in the off season, seems to be a trend in my trips. As a result we got rooms at a much cheaper rate, but as a pay off, we didn't see many fellow hikers and we often didn't see the mountains. I was ok with this actually, the glimpses were magical enough and the foothills seemed to be "mountainous" enough for me. Dad however was continually frustrated, but I think he came to a place of acceptance. One thing that I thought was really cool throughout the trek was how environmentally conscious Nepal is about conserving the area. They tell every trekker with receiving their permit not to purchase plastics, to take batteries back so they are properly disposed and to filter your own water. They even have "safe drinking water" facilities along they where they filtered water with an ozone process for a cheap fee so that you didn't have to buy bottled water.
Kagbeni was really neat, perhaps one of the best villages we stopped in. For the hike there, it was a very easy incline, didn't even notice it, and the wind picked up so that I didn't even sweat the entire time. We also walked through a dried river bed which is really rich in fossils. I actually found two just walking, and then proceeded to lug them around with me for the rest of the trek. The area around Kagbeni was a lot like Tibet/ New Mexico, very arid. However, Kagbeni itself was a little oasis with sweeping green fields against this breathtaking backdrop of this peak, Nilgiri. I also made a friend in Kagbeni, a Tibetan woman whose name was the Tibetan version of Tara. The room we stayed in had a great view of the mountain and I got to nap dozing in and out of watching it.
The next day we headed down the valley to a place called Marpha. I got really into the rocks in the river bed, they had so many interesting designs that seemed to mirror the larger peaks on a micro scale. Marpha is known for its apples, and I feasted on dried apples, apple pie, apple crumble, fresh apple juice and apple brandy! In general the trek is so well traveled, it is actually quite posh. Nice rooms and all kinds of Western food all along the way. Dad was just in shock for the few days about the road and how much it changed since he last did this trek in 1980. On the way to Marpha we met an Israeli couple who we found again in Marpha. We got nice and tipsy with them on Apple Brandy and learned a bunch of card games I'll teach you that were really fun.
The next day we hiked to a small town called Larjung where I discovered potato cheese momos. They were basically like pirogies, and delicious. We lost our friends because they were walking faster than dad could. All along the way dad had aches and pains, so we walked slow and he got through them. I was intrigued that the river we were following had black water. This was a really interesting contrast to the clear glacial waters of the Ganga when I was hiking in India's mountains. The next day was a really short hike to Kalopani, "black water," but interestingly enough here the water was no longer black. Kalopani is a town that was built for tourists, it was where people thought there was the best views of the mountains. When we arrived it was cloudy, so we spent the nice in a really nice place. It was like the first real shower I had from a shower head since arriving in Asia. We then stayed till morning hoping it would clear, but no luck.
We then headed towards Tatopani, but decided to stop in this place called Rupse. We stopped in Rupse because the descent down many uneven stone steps really hurt our calves, but more importantly, Rupse was basically a single guest house right under this huge beautiful waterfall. We ate watching the water fall and slept to its rumble. We also met some more friends: a couple from Poland and another couple from Austria. We played a card game we learned the previous night by candle light and all ate Dal Bat. Dal bat is the typical Nepali plate of food, basically a Thali in India. It comes with Rice, Dal, and a vegetable of some sort, but the neatest thing is that it is never ending! When you finish any element they bring you more and more until you are full! We had this usually at least once a day.
The next day we reached Tatopani where there was some nice hot springs for us to soak in. It was hear I started to hear from travelers that there was an uphill climb ahead of us. I went into this trek thinking it was all downhill, so this was a bit of a shock. Dad assured me it was gradual and not that bad. I looked at the map briefly and it looked about the same distance as our previous days, 4 hours walking max. I asked the owner of the hotel how long it would take to get to Gareopani (our next target), and he said 7 hours! As I said before dad walks slower than most 20 year olds doing this trek, so this meant in my head at least 9 hours. I met a trekker who has just come down from Gorepani and he told me that it was a very steep climb, like the whole way. Have I mentioned that I hate going uphill? Especially after living in Mussoorie where I had to hike up hill almost everyday for 30min--1 hr. I was getting grumpy. We got up really early the next morning to tackle our difficult day. At our first rest point I looked at the map again. I realized that we were basically climbing 2000 meters in one day, thats 6600 feet! Furthermore, Gareopani is higher than even Kagbeni! Meaning that the entire week we had hiked down the valley, and in a single day we were supposed to go uphill to a point higher than we had been the entire trek. I started to hate going downhill because I knew it meant I would soon have to regain that altitude by going uphill again. Perhaps needless to say, even with lots of hot lemon breaks, we didn't make it. We stopped in a village called Shikha after 7 hours of uphill climbing with a 30 pound bag on my back with all my stuff and some of dad's (it was actually like 28, but sounds more impressive if I round up). Along the way many people claimed I looked "strong," I'm guessing they were trying to be nice in response to how tired I looked trying to tackle those stupid stairs going up. So in the time it should have taken us to make it to Gorepani, we made it half way, painfully.
In the morning the clouds cleared up and we saw a beautiful view of the mountains as we headed out sorely towards Gorepani, supposedly our last village. Gorepani was supposed to be special because there is a hill called Poon Hill that is supposed to have one of the best views of the Himalayas. After resting, we woke up in the dark and started to walk to Poon hill at 4 am to catch the sunrise. Unfortunately it was a rainy morning. After the extra hour hike up the hill to see nothing (at over 9000 feet) we came down to little glimpses of the range as the clouds started to part. However we couldn't linger because we had to descend the entire altitude we had gained over the last two days. I never thought going downhill would be so painful. At first it was fine. We walked through perhaps my favorite part of the hike. A beautiful rhododendron forest that felt really magical. It felt like elves, fairies, unicorns and gnomes should live there among the numerous cascading waterfalls and speckled wild orchids. However, we soon came upon the dreaded stone stairs. I believe there was approximately 3880 uneven stone stairs we climbed down, it just seemed like they would never end. Normally I love going down stairs, but the unevenness prevented any rhythm to the descent and the 30 pound back pack put a lot of extra weight on to my legs. Furthermore the hard stone quickly really hurt the soles of my feet. In short, it was really rough. We were told it should take about 6 hours to get down to the bus stand. About 11 hours later (not including the hike up and down from Poon Hill), we arrived in Baretanti, completely exhausted. In fact I am still in so much pain from this descent that I am still walking like a 90 year old man, especially up and down stairs. In the morning we did our final short push to the bus stand to get back to Pokhara.
Originally we were supposed to have 2 full days in Pokhara to recuperate and shop, however those two days were taken up by our extra unexpected hiking days. We bumped into almost all our friends while hiking and indulged in pasta, beers and other tasty treats as I bought some new clothes and other little things.
We decided to come back to Kathmandu today so that we had 2 full days to say goodbye to Dad's friends and to tie up loose ends. The buses leave Pokhara about 8 am and get to Kathmandu at about 2 with a break for breakfast and lunch. However, about half way we came to a major road block. Apparently a while ago, this village had a woman who was killed by one of these tourist buses and were demanding compensation. I guess they weren't being compensated, so their response was to set up road blocks on the only road between Kathmandu and Pokhara. We were stuck for hours, and the traffic was backed up in either direction farther than I could see. We made friends with many people on our bus and some of the local guys had a lot of fun trying to teach me Nepali. I starting to entertain the idea of coming back, learning the language and seeing if I can get local prices to things. Everyone says I look Nepali and that my pronunciation is really good. Before we left for the trek I already got access to a temple that dad was denied to because they thought I was Nepali. Anyways, it has been a long day, and over 12 hours after we left Pokhara we finally arrived at our hotel where I am writing you this long e-mail.
Unless something amazing happens, this will probably be my last mass e-mail until I get to the US and upload my pictures. I leave Nepal on June 3rd and then arrive in NY in the afternoon on June 4th. Thank you all for reading and letting me share my adventures with you. It has quite a semester and I am looking forward to an amazing summer. If you have any questions or comments I can't wait to discuss them with you, hopefully in person when I see you shortly.
So went to Pokhara to catch a 5 am plane to a place called Jomsom. The flight have to be really early because the wind picks up in the afternoon and is too dangerous to fly in. We were worried because the weather has been kinda bad, basically the monsoons started while we were trekking and so we often battled rain and cloudy weather. The flight was really beautiful with a great view of this huge ice fall/ glacier.
Upon landing, we put on our back packs and started to walk up the mountain right away. Our basic plan was to land in Jomsom, walk about 2 hours up to a place called Kagbeni, and the slowly make our way down the mountain back to Pokhara. Dad planned it out so it would be a nice relaxing trek. We would hike in the morning for about 2-4 hours (sometimes it was only 1.5 hours) and then relax the rest of the day in the village. We planned the trek to be about 8 days, 9 if the weather looked good. We started our trek in the off season, seems to be a trend in my trips. As a result we got rooms at a much cheaper rate, but as a pay off, we didn't see many fellow hikers and we often didn't see the mountains. I was ok with this actually, the glimpses were magical enough and the foothills seemed to be "mountainous" enough for me. Dad however was continually frustrated, but I think he came to a place of acceptance. One thing that I thought was really cool throughout the trek was how environmentally conscious Nepal is about conserving the area. They tell every trekker with receiving their permit not to purchase plastics, to take batteries back so they are properly disposed and to filter your own water. They even have "safe drinking water" facilities along they where they filtered water with an ozone process for a cheap fee so that you didn't have to buy bottled water.
Kagbeni was really neat, perhaps one of the best villages we stopped in. For the hike there, it was a very easy incline, didn't even notice it, and the wind picked up so that I didn't even sweat the entire time. We also walked through a dried river bed which is really rich in fossils. I actually found two just walking, and then proceeded to lug them around with me for the rest of the trek. The area around Kagbeni was a lot like Tibet/ New Mexico, very arid. However, Kagbeni itself was a little oasis with sweeping green fields against this breathtaking backdrop of this peak, Nilgiri. I also made a friend in Kagbeni, a Tibetan woman whose name was the Tibetan version of Tara. The room we stayed in had a great view of the mountain and I got to nap dozing in and out of watching it.
The next day we headed down the valley to a place called Marpha. I got really into the rocks in the river bed, they had so many interesting designs that seemed to mirror the larger peaks on a micro scale. Marpha is known for its apples, and I feasted on dried apples, apple pie, apple crumble, fresh apple juice and apple brandy! In general the trek is so well traveled, it is actually quite posh. Nice rooms and all kinds of Western food all along the way. Dad was just in shock for the few days about the road and how much it changed since he last did this trek in 1980. On the way to Marpha we met an Israeli couple who we found again in Marpha. We got nice and tipsy with them on Apple Brandy and learned a bunch of card games I'll teach you that were really fun.
The next day we hiked to a small town called Larjung where I discovered potato cheese momos. They were basically like pirogies, and delicious. We lost our friends because they were walking faster than dad could. All along the way dad had aches and pains, so we walked slow and he got through them. I was intrigued that the river we were following had black water. This was a really interesting contrast to the clear glacial waters of the Ganga when I was hiking in India's mountains. The next day was a really short hike to Kalopani, "black water," but interestingly enough here the water was no longer black. Kalopani is a town that was built for tourists, it was where people thought there was the best views of the mountains. When we arrived it was cloudy, so we spent the nice in a really nice place. It was like the first real shower I had from a shower head since arriving in Asia. We then stayed till morning hoping it would clear, but no luck.
We then headed towards Tatopani, but decided to stop in this place called Rupse. We stopped in Rupse because the descent down many uneven stone steps really hurt our calves, but more importantly, Rupse was basically a single guest house right under this huge beautiful waterfall. We ate watching the water fall and slept to its rumble. We also met some more friends: a couple from Poland and another couple from Austria. We played a card game we learned the previous night by candle light and all ate Dal Bat. Dal bat is the typical Nepali plate of food, basically a Thali in India. It comes with Rice, Dal, and a vegetable of some sort, but the neatest thing is that it is never ending! When you finish any element they bring you more and more until you are full! We had this usually at least once a day.
The next day we reached Tatopani where there was some nice hot springs for us to soak in. It was hear I started to hear from travelers that there was an uphill climb ahead of us. I went into this trek thinking it was all downhill, so this was a bit of a shock. Dad assured me it was gradual and not that bad. I looked at the map briefly and it looked about the same distance as our previous days, 4 hours walking max. I asked the owner of the hotel how long it would take to get to Gareopani (our next target), and he said 7 hours! As I said before dad walks slower than most 20 year olds doing this trek, so this meant in my head at least 9 hours. I met a trekker who has just come down from Gorepani and he told me that it was a very steep climb, like the whole way. Have I mentioned that I hate going uphill? Especially after living in Mussoorie where I had to hike up hill almost everyday for 30min--1 hr. I was getting grumpy. We got up really early the next morning to tackle our difficult day. At our first rest point I looked at the map again. I realized that we were basically climbing 2000 meters in one day, thats 6600 feet! Furthermore, Gareopani is higher than even Kagbeni! Meaning that the entire week we had hiked down the valley, and in a single day we were supposed to go uphill to a point higher than we had been the entire trek. I started to hate going downhill because I knew it meant I would soon have to regain that altitude by going uphill again. Perhaps needless to say, even with lots of hot lemon breaks, we didn't make it. We stopped in a village called Shikha after 7 hours of uphill climbing with a 30 pound bag on my back with all my stuff and some of dad's (it was actually like 28, but sounds more impressive if I round up). Along the way many people claimed I looked "strong," I'm guessing they were trying to be nice in response to how tired I looked trying to tackle those stupid stairs going up. So in the time it should have taken us to make it to Gorepani, we made it half way, painfully.
In the morning the clouds cleared up and we saw a beautiful view of the mountains as we headed out sorely towards Gorepani, supposedly our last village. Gorepani was supposed to be special because there is a hill called Poon Hill that is supposed to have one of the best views of the Himalayas. After resting, we woke up in the dark and started to walk to Poon hill at 4 am to catch the sunrise. Unfortunately it was a rainy morning. After the extra hour hike up the hill to see nothing (at over 9000 feet) we came down to little glimpses of the range as the clouds started to part. However we couldn't linger because we had to descend the entire altitude we had gained over the last two days. I never thought going downhill would be so painful. At first it was fine. We walked through perhaps my favorite part of the hike. A beautiful rhododendron forest that felt really magical. It felt like elves, fairies, unicorns and gnomes should live there among the numerous cascading waterfalls and speckled wild orchids. However, we soon came upon the dreaded stone stairs. I believe there was approximately 3880 uneven stone stairs we climbed down, it just seemed like they would never end. Normally I love going down stairs, but the unevenness prevented any rhythm to the descent and the 30 pound back pack put a lot of extra weight on to my legs. Furthermore the hard stone quickly really hurt the soles of my feet. In short, it was really rough. We were told it should take about 6 hours to get down to the bus stand. About 11 hours later (not including the hike up and down from Poon Hill), we arrived in Baretanti, completely exhausted. In fact I am still in so much pain from this descent that I am still walking like a 90 year old man, especially up and down stairs. In the morning we did our final short push to the bus stand to get back to Pokhara.
Originally we were supposed to have 2 full days in Pokhara to recuperate and shop, however those two days were taken up by our extra unexpected hiking days. We bumped into almost all our friends while hiking and indulged in pasta, beers and other tasty treats as I bought some new clothes and other little things.
We decided to come back to Kathmandu today so that we had 2 full days to say goodbye to Dad's friends and to tie up loose ends. The buses leave Pokhara about 8 am and get to Kathmandu at about 2 with a break for breakfast and lunch. However, about half way we came to a major road block. Apparently a while ago, this village had a woman who was killed by one of these tourist buses and were demanding compensation. I guess they weren't being compensated, so their response was to set up road blocks on the only road between Kathmandu and Pokhara. We were stuck for hours, and the traffic was backed up in either direction farther than I could see. We made friends with many people on our bus and some of the local guys had a lot of fun trying to teach me Nepali. I starting to entertain the idea of coming back, learning the language and seeing if I can get local prices to things. Everyone says I look Nepali and that my pronunciation is really good. Before we left for the trek I already got access to a temple that dad was denied to because they thought I was Nepali. Anyways, it has been a long day, and over 12 hours after we left Pokhara we finally arrived at our hotel where I am writing you this long e-mail.
Unless something amazing happens, this will probably be my last mass e-mail until I get to the US and upload my pictures. I leave Nepal on June 3rd and then arrive in NY in the afternoon on June 4th. Thank you all for reading and letting me share my adventures with you. It has quite a semester and I am looking forward to an amazing summer. If you have any questions or comments I can't wait to discuss them with you, hopefully in person when I see you shortly.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Nepalese Delights
I think the first few days of a new place always seem the longest, but the days have started to pick up speed here. In general we have been trying to see all the major sites around Kathmandu while preparing to go on a trek around the Anapurana's starting on Wed. I think the highlight so far has been meeting Dad's friends from 23 years ago. Ratna comes from a family who does this lost wax technique of making beautiful Buddhist statues. Ranta and his wife came to visit dad and mom when I was like 1 years old, so they were super excited to meet me. Strangely enough, Ratna has also been an SIT adviser for Tibetan studies program. Ratna has been really sweet and sort of acting as a tour guide for us. Last night we had a really nice fancy meal where Dad's friend Mohan who is blind and played the Sarod, which is like a mini Sitar. It was really wonderful. Then today we met yet another friend who paints thangkhas, really really beautiful ones. All these friends have been so welcoming, and I am amazed at how they recognize and remember so much about dad from over 20 years ago.
Yesterday we went to Bhaktapur, often known as a medevil town of the Valley. For those of you who have seen "Little Buddha," Bhaktapur is where Siddartha's kingdom was set, so it is the town used to portray Nepal around 500 B.C. For those that remember the scene where Siddartha was watching the potter, I went to that spot and got to try out some ancient pottery techniques. I wasn't really good at it though and my fingernails still have black clay stuck underneath them. I have actually seen many places/ images that I have studied or seen in movies, a strange but neat feeling to be in such places in person.
Nepal is really interesting after spending so much time in China and India. There is a term in India used a lot, "same same but different." Often used to describe things by shop keepers trying to explain small differences such as between pepsi and coke, but usually there were much more significant differences than that. In Nepal I can still read the signs because it is all in Devanagari, but I can't understand anything anymore. There are some of the same snacks but not the ones I usually eat. The mythology has many of the same characters but all of a sudden doesn't make sense. It is all strangely familiar and yet all new.
I feel like Keith says this every time he travels somewhere, but the women here are truly stunning, like everyone of them are beautiful. I think for this reason, among other reasons, I am really experiencing everyone telling me that I look Nepalese as a true compliment. It is really just amazing to me how many people have commented that I look Nepalese or just assume that I am Nepalese. From random shopkeepers, to my dad's friends, to literally people on the street as I get out of a car. There is a really strange welcoming thi creates. Dad seems to attribute to the fact that I was concieved here, and seemed intent on telling everyone we met this little fact until I asked him to stop.
So while sightseeing, we have also been planning our trek. We are planning to have a pretty easy trek. We are flying to the top and then slowly making our way down for 8 days and then spending a recuperation day at Pokhara. I'm sure I'll have the names down by the time I get back, but right now all the names are so unfamiliar and blend together.
I am realizing there is a huge difference between traveling with a group of peers, by myself, and with a parent. I have gotten so used to Asia and traveling alone that it has been a strange transition to travel with dad and see him go through his adjustment to Asia. For example, dad was really proud the other day for bargaining with a taxi walla, and asked me if I liked the way he handled it. I told him if I hadn't argued with rickshaw walla everyday for the last 4 months, I would probably be impressed, but it just seemed like something I do everyday now. It kinda felt like someone turning to me and saying, "you like how I crossed the street?" Just funny to see our different states.
So one last day to get all our stuff together and see some sights. Next update from the other side of the trek!
Yesterday we went to Bhaktapur, often known as a medevil town of the Valley. For those of you who have seen "Little Buddha," Bhaktapur is where Siddartha's kingdom was set, so it is the town used to portray Nepal around 500 B.C. For those that remember the scene where Siddartha was watching the potter, I went to that spot and got to try out some ancient pottery techniques. I wasn't really good at it though and my fingernails still have black clay stuck underneath them. I have actually seen many places/ images that I have studied or seen in movies, a strange but neat feeling to be in such places in person.
Nepal is really interesting after spending so much time in China and India. There is a term in India used a lot, "same same but different." Often used to describe things by shop keepers trying to explain small differences such as between pepsi and coke, but usually there were much more significant differences than that. In Nepal I can still read the signs because it is all in Devanagari, but I can't understand anything anymore. There are some of the same snacks but not the ones I usually eat. The mythology has many of the same characters but all of a sudden doesn't make sense. It is all strangely familiar and yet all new.
I feel like Keith says this every time he travels somewhere, but the women here are truly stunning, like everyone of them are beautiful. I think for this reason, among other reasons, I am really experiencing everyone telling me that I look Nepalese as a true compliment. It is really just amazing to me how many people have commented that I look Nepalese or just assume that I am Nepalese. From random shopkeepers, to my dad's friends, to literally people on the street as I get out of a car. There is a really strange welcoming thi creates. Dad seems to attribute to the fact that I was concieved here, and seemed intent on telling everyone we met this little fact until I asked him to stop.
So while sightseeing, we have also been planning our trek. We are planning to have a pretty easy trek. We are flying to the top and then slowly making our way down for 8 days and then spending a recuperation day at Pokhara. I'm sure I'll have the names down by the time I get back, but right now all the names are so unfamiliar and blend together.
I am realizing there is a huge difference between traveling with a group of peers, by myself, and with a parent. I have gotten so used to Asia and traveling alone that it has been a strange transition to travel with dad and see him go through his adjustment to Asia. For example, dad was really proud the other day for bargaining with a taxi walla, and asked me if I liked the way he handled it. I told him if I hadn't argued with rickshaw walla everyday for the last 4 months, I would probably be impressed, but it just seemed like something I do everyday now. It kinda felt like someone turning to me and saying, "you like how I crossed the street?" Just funny to see our different states.
So one last day to get all our stuff together and see some sights. Next update from the other side of the trek!
Friday, May 15, 2009
Nepal
Hello everyone!
So the last couple of weeks has been quite the roller coaster ride with finishing my paper, giving a presentation and hearing about Wesleyan. For those of you who don't know, there was a shooting at my school killing a girl. I was pretty shaken up by this and it has been really difficult being away from my community. However a friend on my program helped me through it, and I did my best to enjoy my last few days in India. We had a wonderful banquet where we all dressed up in Saris and had delicious food with our homestay families. It was a bit of a shock leaving India, to be honest it didn't really even hit me until I landed in Nepal that I was leaving. When I arrived I met dad at the hotel and he took me out to have a nice Thai meal, a really nice break from the fake American and Indian food.
Today Dad and I walked around Kathmandu today. We found various beautiful old statues and carvings that date back to the 4th century just hanging out on the streets sandwiched in between brass shops and vegetable vendors. We finished in Durbar square where we got a light snack of momos and fresh lemon sodas. We were planning on continuing to Swayambhunath, the main huge stupa that is so often used as the poster image of Nepal, but it started to rain so we headed back to the hotel. I have already been stopped for conversation in the airport and at the ticket stalls regarding my name and appearance. They tell me that I look Nepalise and were confused why I had an American passport. It feels nice to be welcomed into a country in this way, to have the assumption that I belong instead of my presence being constantly questioned. I see Taras, Gangas, and Yamunas everywhere, however their context is often confusing to me here. I feel like all my knowledge of Hinduism and even Buddhism is thrown out the window here for it is all mixed together in new ways. However I think I really love it, it is beautiful and very tourist friendly. There are many bakeries and yummy places to eat, as well as all the things in India I wanted to buy but didn't want to lug around all in one place. This is a shopping nightmare for me, so many things I want to buy, for cheap, and conveniently placed, however no room to take them back with all my new things I acquired over the last 4 months.
Basically I wanted to let everyone know I arrived safely. Dad is thinking about doing an 8 day trek, however we are keeping an eye on the recurring rains.
So the last couple of weeks has been quite the roller coaster ride with finishing my paper, giving a presentation and hearing about Wesleyan. For those of you who don't know, there was a shooting at my school killing a girl. I was pretty shaken up by this and it has been really difficult being away from my community. However a friend on my program helped me through it, and I did my best to enjoy my last few days in India. We had a wonderful banquet where we all dressed up in Saris and had delicious food with our homestay families. It was a bit of a shock leaving India, to be honest it didn't really even hit me until I landed in Nepal that I was leaving. When I arrived I met dad at the hotel and he took me out to have a nice Thai meal, a really nice break from the fake American and Indian food.
Today Dad and I walked around Kathmandu today. We found various beautiful old statues and carvings that date back to the 4th century just hanging out on the streets sandwiched in between brass shops and vegetable vendors. We finished in Durbar square where we got a light snack of momos and fresh lemon sodas. We were planning on continuing to Swayambhunath, the main huge stupa that is so often used as the poster image of Nepal, but it started to rain so we headed back to the hotel. I have already been stopped for conversation in the airport and at the ticket stalls regarding my name and appearance. They tell me that I look Nepalise and were confused why I had an American passport. It feels nice to be welcomed into a country in this way, to have the assumption that I belong instead of my presence being constantly questioned. I see Taras, Gangas, and Yamunas everywhere, however their context is often confusing to me here. I feel like all my knowledge of Hinduism and even Buddhism is thrown out the window here for it is all mixed together in new ways. However I think I really love it, it is beautiful and very tourist friendly. There are many bakeries and yummy places to eat, as well as all the things in India I wanted to buy but didn't want to lug around all in one place. This is a shopping nightmare for me, so many things I want to buy, for cheap, and conveniently placed, however no room to take them back with all my new things I acquired over the last 4 months.
Basically I wanted to let everyone know I arrived safely. Dad is thinking about doing an 8 day trek, however we are keeping an eye on the recurring rains.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Happy Cheese day!
I just wanted to let everyone know that in this moment I am so happy. I just arrived back in Mussoorie, back in my beautiful home with the lovely family that lives downstairs. Rishikesh and Haridwar were interesting, seeing the tourist aspect of what I saw in the mountains, and slowly realizing that the fact I saw these pilgrimage sites completely alone was truly a rare gift. Rishikesh also posed mosquitoes issues, but I absolutely fell in love with the Ganga there. I would dip in her waters at least twice a day as the days got hotter. I didn't even change out of my clothes for almost a week. I would sleep in them to cover as much of my body as possible to protect from the mosquitos, then in the mid morning I would dip into the ganga walk around with my wet clothes staying cool, and then in mid afternoon when my clothes had dried and I was getting hot again I would swim in her waters once more.
After my two good friends met me in Rishikesh, I returned with them to Delhi where it was about 107 daily. I feasted on take out food, mangoes and coconuts. Katherine and my friend's apartment had internet and television and I indulged in as much as both as possible. The days flew by quickly as I visited my home stay family, found books for my research and ate delicious food, including an amazing hot chocolate with cinnamon, saffron and rosewater.
Today I came back to Mussooire, it was so nice to have the air on my face resemble a cool breeze instead of a hot hairdryer like it did in Delhi. After coming home, I found an amazing store, Prakesh's general store! Instead of an hour hike down (and then back up) the mountain to get to any groceries, I found a beautiful 15min hike up a shady path right behind my house to this general store with over 10 kinds of cheese!! Gouda, sharp cheddar, blue, ricotta, Cabernet, Gruyeres!! Homemade jams, olives, olive oil, granola, pretzels, spices like oregano and rosemary, pastas and pancake mix! I was really overwhelmed with happiness of all the things I will be able to make in the coming weeks. I was silly and did not bring much money with me (though I have plenty left over from my stipend), so I got some cheddar, homemade apricot jam, and crackers and had an amazing feast of one of my favorite comfort food combinations. I just felt so happy to find this goldmine.
I am now in full academic mode, trying to analyze my crazy experience and place it a theoretical and academic context. In combing through my copious notes, research, journals and comments from all of you, I am realizing that I actually have a lot of information and I am currently in the stage of figuring out how to incorporated as much of it as possible.
So I just wanted to let everyone know that I am happy and safe in the throngs of academia once again, but this time surrounded by the amazing beauty of the mountains and trails, just no longer snow capped. Thank you all for your supportive comments, I can't describe how much they helped me persevere.
After my two good friends met me in Rishikesh, I returned with them to Delhi where it was about 107 daily. I feasted on take out food, mangoes and coconuts. Katherine and my friend's apartment had internet and television and I indulged in as much as both as possible. The days flew by quickly as I visited my home stay family, found books for my research and ate delicious food, including an amazing hot chocolate with cinnamon, saffron and rosewater.
Today I came back to Mussooire, it was so nice to have the air on my face resemble a cool breeze instead of a hot hairdryer like it did in Delhi. After coming home, I found an amazing store, Prakesh's general store! Instead of an hour hike down (and then back up) the mountain to get to any groceries, I found a beautiful 15min hike up a shady path right behind my house to this general store with over 10 kinds of cheese!! Gouda, sharp cheddar, blue, ricotta, Cabernet, Gruyeres!! Homemade jams, olives, olive oil, granola, pretzels, spices like oregano and rosemary, pastas and pancake mix! I was really overwhelmed with happiness of all the things I will be able to make in the coming weeks. I was silly and did not bring much money with me (though I have plenty left over from my stipend), so I got some cheddar, homemade apricot jam, and crackers and had an amazing feast of one of my favorite comfort food combinations. I just felt so happy to find this goldmine.
I am now in full academic mode, trying to analyze my crazy experience and place it a theoretical and academic context. In combing through my copious notes, research, journals and comments from all of you, I am realizing that I actually have a lot of information and I am currently in the stage of figuring out how to incorporated as much of it as possible.
So I just wanted to let everyone know that I am happy and safe in the throngs of academia once again, but this time surrounded by the amazing beauty of the mountains and trails, just no longer snow capped. Thank you all for your supportive comments, I can't describe how much they helped me persevere.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
My Heroine's Journey
This has been quite an intense week, every day has seemed like an eternity of experiences. I'll try to give some of the peaks and troughs of my experience in this e-mail, I don't think I can make it exhaustive but it will still be long.
So last week Monday morning I left for Yamunotri with a wilderness first aid trainer named Anna and a guide named Harmeek. We drove for six hours and arrived at this little village called Rana Chatti, about 30 min from Janki Chatti, the town closest to Yamunotri. However, Rana Chatti looked like a ghost town, there was no one even walking around the streets and all but one little stall that sold gum and candy was closed. Harmeek had to ask a hotel if they would open for us because we needed a place to stay and all the other towns around were also closed. About 30 min later, we had an entire hotel to ourselves. Inside they were doing a lot of construction in the main lobby, I am guessing in preparation for the upcoming tourist season. Moments after we were let inside a hail storm ascended on us, it was quite cold. That night we huddled in the kitchen for food and warmth, and that night we slept under huge smelly blankets that countless tired pilgrims before had used with all of our clothes still on for it was too cold to take them off to change.
Tuesday morning we got up early to make our way to Yamunotri. Yamuna is perhaps the second most sacred river in India. Yamuna is the twin sister of Yama, lord of the underworld, and it is thought that to bathe in her waters will ensure that you will be exempt from a painful death. She is also closely associated with Krishna since he grew up along her banks. We stopped in Janki Chatti and started to climb up the mountain. Because of the hail/ snow storm the night before, the path was covered with snow and because it was a clear day we got some amazing views of the newly powdered peaks. However, recovering from a fever, acclimating to high altitudes and not doing any exercise since arriving in India is a bad combo for trying to tackle a hike, even a fairly easy one. The climb up was rough for me. Anna just whizzed up there, I don't think she stopped even once. I tried to keep up with her, but realized it was futile. I think this was my first mistake because I blew out quickly. The rest of the climb up Harmeek patiently stayed behind, asking to carry my bags, if I needed medication or if I was okay. I stubbornly wanted to carry my own burden, this was the first day of my pilgrimage and I wanted to make it to the top, even though I was sweating bullets in the snow. I had a whole gambit of thoughts as I pushed my body farther than it wanted to go, wanting to give up, doubting this whole crazy pilgrimage business, questioning whether I should just return to Mussoorie and alter my project. Harmeek's comments that this was an easy hike and that it wasn't too high and urges to hurry up weren't exactly helping either. Eventually with the help of grabbing huge chunks of snow to suck on once my water was done, I reached the Yamunotri temple. At the site there was said to be hot springs, however the tanks were empty (this might have been for the best, I heard that the female tank was below the male tank and just had all the water from the male tank spilling over). The main temple was closed, but there was an adjacent temple that was open. I went inside and bowed to the black statue of Yamuna and her company of other deities. The Sadhus invited me to sit down and gave me some chai. Of course now that I finally got to sit down, all my sweat began to evaporate and my clothes were all wet, and I was absolutely freezing. I tried to scribble as much information as I could with my shivering hands. I was told that the old man in the corner was 108 years old and had been praying here for 40 years. After not too long I was hurried out so we could get down the mountain. Again Anna sprinted down, this time with the force of gravity working with me instead of against me I thought I could keep up. However by this time the sun had started to melt the snow, creating a parallel Yamuna along our trail we had to wade through as we descended. At some point I lost my footing in the current and began to run down the mountain trying to regain control of myself, I was moving too fast though and at a switchback I slammed into the railing that was fortunately there. I hit the railing with such force that my red Wesleyan water bottle was catapulted out of my bag. I held on to the railing out of breath as I watched my red bottle against the white snow fall in slow motion where I surely would have gone. A little shooken up I continued my decent, a little slower now not really caring if Anna had to wait. Harmeek reminded me a few times that it was a good thing that railing was there, I didn't know how to reply besides nodding my head. Across from Janki Chatti is a small village that Mr. Alter told me to visit called Kharsali. After eating a parantha, we headed across the river to this small town. In a much more relaxed manner I wrote about two temples I saw there, one to Shiv and another supposed built by Shani (Saturn) and without much more explanation but that. At the Shiv temple I didn't bring any money with me, so when the priest asked me of an offering I gave one of my bangles that had broken when I slammed against the railing. In return the priest gave me a flower blossom and told me to take it to Gangotri, to Yamuna's sister for Yamuna. There were some really beautiful wooden carvings around the village, and then we headed back to the car. Back at the hotel I was exhausted and a little overwhelmed by the experiences of my second day, Anna went off for another hike. We again had dinner in the kitchen. I forgot to mention that there was in frequent electricity as well, so our dinners were by candle light.
In the morning my body ached and I was apprehensive about continuing the journey alone when with helpful companions it had already proven itself difficult. Harmeek and Anna dropped me off in Barkot where I was put on a local bus to Uttarkashi, the largest town in this area. The steaks of old vomit down the sides of the bus from the windows was not encouraging, but I made sure at least I was by a window. I however felt grateful for all the construction even though it was destroying the land, just because the bumpy roads were able to ground me enough so that the curves did not make me sick. I arrived in Uttarkashi, tried to find some food but everything was closed. I found a hotel near the bus stand and asked for some dal and rice. A French couple bolted in as I sat down asking for food. They got the same thing as me. I found out they were going to Gaumukh, the glacier where Ganga comes from, and the same place I was planning on going. However they relayed to me the many difficulties of trying to get permission to go, including paying $500 US. After they left I went to my room and consulted with Mr. Alter and we decided with the weather and present conditions it was too dangerous and difficult for me to go to Gaumukh, plus I didn't have anyone to go with and after my little spill at Yamunotri I decided I did not really want to hike anywhere alone. I tried to sleep, but my sore body wouldn't let me.
Ok this was a really long day. At about 5 am I woke up to find a bus to Gangotri. I needed to stop at two little villages along the way as well, Harsil to see ganga's winter home and Lanka where another myth happened and there was a big gorge. A guide from Ladhak I had met the night before happened to be awake and helped translate for me. Because Gangotri, like Yamunotri was closed, there were no buses. Instead I found a share taxi that agreed to take me to a town called Dharali (i had never heard of it). I got in trusting it would all work out. Sandwiched between the window and 4 other men as approximate 19 other guys jumped in and out of the trunkish area, I eventually made it to Dharali. After having a cup of chai, I asked around for someone I was supposed to meet there, but apparently he was in Uttarkashi still. It seemed like the entire village had gathered to help solve my predicament, or at least to see what was going on. So I started to ask for people willing to give me a ride to Gangotri. one man offered, but as soon as he offered he came back and informed me that his car was out of oil. I was led to another guy, who as soon as he was asked closed up his shop and took out his motorcycle. I asked if anyone else had a car, and the villagers replied no. I hesitated, but decided to go for it, Gangotri was essential to my project and I wasn't going to come this far to not go. Strangely I also felt an re-kindled strength and resolve to go to deliver the flowers. I was given a mission and for whatever reason felt the need to complete it. I jumped on back, and it was the most beautiful ride of my life. Instead of trying to squeeze peaks of the mountains through old men's heads, I was freely able to look all around me. Because it was closed, we literally didn't see anyone else on the road. The air was fresh and clean, free from any car exhaust and smelly men. When we arrived, i could tell Gangotri was used to catering to a lot of people on a daily basis, but again no one was there. It was like being in Times Square with all the signs up, but all the shops closed and not a single soul on the streets in broad daylight. My driver friend (Mukesh), took me around to the temples and sights, and even took me to find the Pandava cave (where the Pandavs stayed for awhile). On the way back he pointed out a Sadhu sitting on top of this beautiful waterfall, he said I will meet. We hiked up to the waterfall, and this Sadhu smiled as she continued to finish her passage in the Ramayana. I was first surprised to see she was female, the first female Sadhu I had seen in India. When she finished her passage she closed the book and told me it was Hanuman's birthday and she was reading a special passage for him; she spoke fluent English! I spent about two hours with her, Bhakti Priya was her name. She spouted to me her philosophies on life, her embrace of her foolishness because it brought her peace, and the miracles she had witnessed (mostly of Hanuman). She apparently used to be Mukesh's English teacher, and assured me he was a good boy, but to be careful in India traveling alone as a female, she warned me it was dangerous. As we said goodbye to Bhakti Priya, the clouds started to gather again. On the way down it started to hail again, on the motor bike this hurt. I found out that ganga's winter home was actually in Mukhba, a town right across the water from Dharali, not in Harsil. So when we got back, we had some chai to warm up and then hiked up the hill to get Ganga Darsan. There really wasn't a path to Mukhba, there was only the semi-dry water way to follow up. When we arrived at the winter temple, we found out it didn't open for another 3.5 hours. I decided to stay, but informed Mukesh he didn't have to stay. It got really really cold. I tried to scribble my experiences but had to frequently take breaks to warm my hands because they were shaking too much. I did a bit of jogging around the town, but still could not warm up. After waiting for 2 hours, it started to get dark, and I decided I couldn't handle it anymore. I also figured that the waterway was getting more slippery and I needed the light to get down. I apologized to Ganga, felt guilty for not seeing the main deity of my project when nothing but a door and time was separating me from her, but I also decided that this project was not worth my health or safety. I made it back to Dharali, where I found out that the taxi I came in was the last taxi back to Uttarkashi for the day, so I got a room above the tea stall. I came down to get more chai and try to warm up. The villagers built a fire and gave me a prime seat, however every part of my body that was farther than a few inches from the flames was still freezing. I eventually ran up to my room, piled the two 5 inch thick blankets on top of each other (since I left my sleeping bag in my room in Uttarkashi because I thought I would be coming back the same day), put them both over my head to try to use my own breath to help warm up my cave. I still shivered for a few hours and again slept very little due to my aching cold body. However it was a great day.
In the morning I caught a share taxi back to Uttarkashi blaring some Om Krishna songs from a tape, repeating the same 3 songs the entire time. In Uttarkashi I asked how to get to Devpravag. Though I got many different answers, I got the consensus that some bus left in the morning, but there were no more for the day. I spent the day exploring the temples in Uttarkashi and called Mukesh's friend Ganga to show me around, Ganga was perhaps a couple of years younger than me and she was very amused by the fact we both had brown hair and wore glasses. She hurried me through the temples a bit faster than I wanted to go, but also showed me many temples I wouldn't have found on my own. She also took me home to meet her family which was very nice. Afterwards I went back to the hotel, exhausted. I prepared for my journey the next day. At 10pm as I was falling asleep there was a knock on my door. One of the servants in the hotel who had come many times before. He said something like "me sleep here?" I thought it was a misunderstanding at first, I shook my head and said no figuring anything he was asking I didn't want since i just wanted to sleep. But he insisted, "me sleep here please? with you, sleep." After a "what?!" or two from me, I began to close the door, but he stuck his foot in and started to try to push his way in. I had to physically shove him out and lock the door as quickly as I could. I didn't sleep much this night either.
I woke up a full 2 hours before I was told the bus left, thinking I just wanted out of this hotel as soon as possible. It was a good thing too because the bus to Devpryag was left 1.5 hours earlier than what i was told. I got my seat, was told it was a 5 hour bus ride and by 30 min into the ride, the three people surrounding me were throwing up out the doors and windows. A woman actually started to sit on me because I didn't want to give up my seat and stand, and she wanted to be near the door. I won a lot of instant merit giving drammine pills to those around me, and in another hour everyone stopped throwing up. However the bus ride was still long, more like eight hours, and it was rough. The claustrophobia of having so many people hovering over me and around me, as well as the better paved roads made it a rather uncomfortable ride for me, and I began to contemplate the price for cheaper things in India. Eventually I made it to Devprayag, the confluence of the two rivers and where the river Bhagirathi becomes known as Ganga. I asked some old man where the rivers were. Our understanding was limited, but eventually he started to lead me. He took me down, I dipped my hands in the cold waters and then asked if he could help me find a guest house. As we started to climb back up the stairs with my huge backpack in the now getting hot sun, a Sadhu came out of this cave and invited me inside. I told him I would come back but I needed to find some place to put my bag down. He assured me that I could stay at his ashram free of charge. For whatever reason, though I was feeling pretty guarded from the night before, I decided to trust him. I spent the day in his cave, meeting many foreigners and locals that dropped by. He continually called this cave my home, my temple and offered me to come back at any time. After watching the evening ceremony, I walked the 2km to his ashram. It was a beautiful, a room that was built into the cliff so half of the room was still rock. Though there was no bed, the room was lovely and cozy. He fed me some rice and dal, and I went to sleep. In the morning he gave me lemon, ginger honey tea and let me take my time to wake up and meet him back at the river. I kept expecting him to ask for money, but he never did. Eventually I offered him some money as a thank you for feeding me and taking such good care of me, he was shocked at this offer. Even though I had watched for hours the previous day almost everyone offer him money and him taking it freely, when I offered him, he pushed it away and instead gave me 120 rupees "for my trip back home to Mussoorie." After a long conversation, he eventually agreed to take the money back. I was just so touched by his unconditional giving of me. He made a large bucket full of Roti dough, handed me a very large ball and led me to a perch in the rock and told me to break of little pieces to feed the fish. I sat there for perhaps 30 min slowly picking off pieces and feeding the many insatiable mouths of the Ganga in the form of fish. When I finished to say thank you and goodbye, he handed me another large ball. I spent a total of over an hour feeding these fish. I thanked him many times over and then found my way back to the bus stand. I couldn't go straight to Mussoorie, instead I had to go through Rishikesh. I decided to stop by and find Agni for lunch in Rishikesh. When I arrived, I was completely overwhelmed by the number of people, of white people and English signs! I eventually find Agni's abode called the Last Chance Cafe. I decided to spend the night because I was utterly exhausted. However the misquotes at last chance were an issue in the night.
In the morning one of the guys from Last Chance helped me find my way through Dehra Dun and back to Mussoorie. I made my last hike up a mountain with this particular backpack and load. It was a little over an hour when I surprised the family i was staying with with my early return. I took a very cold shower and washed up before meeting with Mr. Alter and retrieving my computer. I repacked my bags and prepared to leave for Haridwar the next morning, the place where the Ganga leaves the mountains and spills onto the Indian plains. I heard there was two Devi temples, so I made that my first stop. Haridwar was really hot, like really warm. The breeze from the car windows just felt like a hairblow dryer on my face. When I arrived at the entrance for the first Devi, Mansa Devi--a wish giving deity, I was totally shocked to see a long list of prices for cable cars and packages. I decided to embrace the tourist aspect of my pilgrimage. I took a cable car up the mountain past manicured gardens and past tons of stalls selling offerings, music videos, knick-knacks, ice cream, sodas and more. I decided this was like a Devi Disney land. The attractions and concessions continued, complete with rides and even little statues of mickey mouse. I saw the Chandi devi as well as another Anjuna Devi. I was completely overwhelmed. Because I had re-packed I was carrying a lot less and still hadn't found a place to stay. Some other people had warned me that Haridwar was a little seedy. Though I felt fine, when the taxi dropped some people at the bus stand I decided just to go back to Rishikesh since I would be going there first thing in the morning and it was a short ride (40 min). I arrived in Rishikesh and surprised Agni yet again as was welcomed back by everyone else at Last Chance.
Today I spent the day here, reading and relaxing for the most part. I caught up on my field journal and took my first full immersion into the river Ganga. Tomorrow I will hopefully complete my research in Rishikesh, take the weekend to enjoy with some friends from the program coming from Delhi and then picking up some books I need in Delhi before returning to Mussooire to write my paper. My head is still whirling with my experiences. I think overall I had a good experience. I am not sure what I learned yet, but I know I have a lot of reflections to sort through. Much love always and just wanted to let everyone know I survived. Much love,
~Tara
So last week Monday morning I left for Yamunotri with a wilderness first aid trainer named Anna and a guide named Harmeek. We drove for six hours and arrived at this little village called Rana Chatti, about 30 min from Janki Chatti, the town closest to Yamunotri. However, Rana Chatti looked like a ghost town, there was no one even walking around the streets and all but one little stall that sold gum and candy was closed. Harmeek had to ask a hotel if they would open for us because we needed a place to stay and all the other towns around were also closed. About 30 min later, we had an entire hotel to ourselves. Inside they were doing a lot of construction in the main lobby, I am guessing in preparation for the upcoming tourist season. Moments after we were let inside a hail storm ascended on us, it was quite cold. That night we huddled in the kitchen for food and warmth, and that night we slept under huge smelly blankets that countless tired pilgrims before had used with all of our clothes still on for it was too cold to take them off to change.
Tuesday morning we got up early to make our way to Yamunotri. Yamuna is perhaps the second most sacred river in India. Yamuna is the twin sister of Yama, lord of the underworld, and it is thought that to bathe in her waters will ensure that you will be exempt from a painful death. She is also closely associated with Krishna since he grew up along her banks. We stopped in Janki Chatti and started to climb up the mountain. Because of the hail/ snow storm the night before, the path was covered with snow and because it was a clear day we got some amazing views of the newly powdered peaks. However, recovering from a fever, acclimating to high altitudes and not doing any exercise since arriving in India is a bad combo for trying to tackle a hike, even a fairly easy one. The climb up was rough for me. Anna just whizzed up there, I don't think she stopped even once. I tried to keep up with her, but realized it was futile. I think this was my first mistake because I blew out quickly. The rest of the climb up Harmeek patiently stayed behind, asking to carry my bags, if I needed medication or if I was okay. I stubbornly wanted to carry my own burden, this was the first day of my pilgrimage and I wanted to make it to the top, even though I was sweating bullets in the snow. I had a whole gambit of thoughts as I pushed my body farther than it wanted to go, wanting to give up, doubting this whole crazy pilgrimage business, questioning whether I should just return to Mussoorie and alter my project. Harmeek's comments that this was an easy hike and that it wasn't too high and urges to hurry up weren't exactly helping either. Eventually with the help of grabbing huge chunks of snow to suck on once my water was done, I reached the Yamunotri temple. At the site there was said to be hot springs, however the tanks were empty (this might have been for the best, I heard that the female tank was below the male tank and just had all the water from the male tank spilling over). The main temple was closed, but there was an adjacent temple that was open. I went inside and bowed to the black statue of Yamuna and her company of other deities. The Sadhus invited me to sit down and gave me some chai. Of course now that I finally got to sit down, all my sweat began to evaporate and my clothes were all wet, and I was absolutely freezing. I tried to scribble as much information as I could with my shivering hands. I was told that the old man in the corner was 108 years old and had been praying here for 40 years. After not too long I was hurried out so we could get down the mountain. Again Anna sprinted down, this time with the force of gravity working with me instead of against me I thought I could keep up. However by this time the sun had started to melt the snow, creating a parallel Yamuna along our trail we had to wade through as we descended. At some point I lost my footing in the current and began to run down the mountain trying to regain control of myself, I was moving too fast though and at a switchback I slammed into the railing that was fortunately there. I hit the railing with such force that my red Wesleyan water bottle was catapulted out of my bag. I held on to the railing out of breath as I watched my red bottle against the white snow fall in slow motion where I surely would have gone. A little shooken up I continued my decent, a little slower now not really caring if Anna had to wait. Harmeek reminded me a few times that it was a good thing that railing was there, I didn't know how to reply besides nodding my head. Across from Janki Chatti is a small village that Mr. Alter told me to visit called Kharsali. After eating a parantha, we headed across the river to this small town. In a much more relaxed manner I wrote about two temples I saw there, one to Shiv and another supposed built by Shani (Saturn) and without much more explanation but that. At the Shiv temple I didn't bring any money with me, so when the priest asked me of an offering I gave one of my bangles that had broken when I slammed against the railing. In return the priest gave me a flower blossom and told me to take it to Gangotri, to Yamuna's sister for Yamuna. There were some really beautiful wooden carvings around the village, and then we headed back to the car. Back at the hotel I was exhausted and a little overwhelmed by the experiences of my second day, Anna went off for another hike. We again had dinner in the kitchen. I forgot to mention that there was in frequent electricity as well, so our dinners were by candle light.
In the morning my body ached and I was apprehensive about continuing the journey alone when with helpful companions it had already proven itself difficult. Harmeek and Anna dropped me off in Barkot where I was put on a local bus to Uttarkashi, the largest town in this area. The steaks of old vomit down the sides of the bus from the windows was not encouraging, but I made sure at least I was by a window. I however felt grateful for all the construction even though it was destroying the land, just because the bumpy roads were able to ground me enough so that the curves did not make me sick. I arrived in Uttarkashi, tried to find some food but everything was closed. I found a hotel near the bus stand and asked for some dal and rice. A French couple bolted in as I sat down asking for food. They got the same thing as me. I found out they were going to Gaumukh, the glacier where Ganga comes from, and the same place I was planning on going. However they relayed to me the many difficulties of trying to get permission to go, including paying $500 US. After they left I went to my room and consulted with Mr. Alter and we decided with the weather and present conditions it was too dangerous and difficult for me to go to Gaumukh, plus I didn't have anyone to go with and after my little spill at Yamunotri I decided I did not really want to hike anywhere alone. I tried to sleep, but my sore body wouldn't let me.
Ok this was a really long day. At about 5 am I woke up to find a bus to Gangotri. I needed to stop at two little villages along the way as well, Harsil to see ganga's winter home and Lanka where another myth happened and there was a big gorge. A guide from Ladhak I had met the night before happened to be awake and helped translate for me. Because Gangotri, like Yamunotri was closed, there were no buses. Instead I found a share taxi that agreed to take me to a town called Dharali (i had never heard of it). I got in trusting it would all work out. Sandwiched between the window and 4 other men as approximate 19 other guys jumped in and out of the trunkish area, I eventually made it to Dharali. After having a cup of chai, I asked around for someone I was supposed to meet there, but apparently he was in Uttarkashi still. It seemed like the entire village had gathered to help solve my predicament, or at least to see what was going on. So I started to ask for people willing to give me a ride to Gangotri. one man offered, but as soon as he offered he came back and informed me that his car was out of oil. I was led to another guy, who as soon as he was asked closed up his shop and took out his motorcycle. I asked if anyone else had a car, and the villagers replied no. I hesitated, but decided to go for it, Gangotri was essential to my project and I wasn't going to come this far to not go. Strangely I also felt an re-kindled strength and resolve to go to deliver the flowers. I was given a mission and for whatever reason felt the need to complete it. I jumped on back, and it was the most beautiful ride of my life. Instead of trying to squeeze peaks of the mountains through old men's heads, I was freely able to look all around me. Because it was closed, we literally didn't see anyone else on the road. The air was fresh and clean, free from any car exhaust and smelly men. When we arrived, i could tell Gangotri was used to catering to a lot of people on a daily basis, but again no one was there. It was like being in Times Square with all the signs up, but all the shops closed and not a single soul on the streets in broad daylight. My driver friend (Mukesh), took me around to the temples and sights, and even took me to find the Pandava cave (where the Pandavs stayed for awhile). On the way back he pointed out a Sadhu sitting on top of this beautiful waterfall, he said I will meet. We hiked up to the waterfall, and this Sadhu smiled as she continued to finish her passage in the Ramayana. I was first surprised to see she was female, the first female Sadhu I had seen in India. When she finished her passage she closed the book and told me it was Hanuman's birthday and she was reading a special passage for him; she spoke fluent English! I spent about two hours with her, Bhakti Priya was her name. She spouted to me her philosophies on life, her embrace of her foolishness because it brought her peace, and the miracles she had witnessed (mostly of Hanuman). She apparently used to be Mukesh's English teacher, and assured me he was a good boy, but to be careful in India traveling alone as a female, she warned me it was dangerous. As we said goodbye to Bhakti Priya, the clouds started to gather again. On the way down it started to hail again, on the motor bike this hurt. I found out that ganga's winter home was actually in Mukhba, a town right across the water from Dharali, not in Harsil. So when we got back, we had some chai to warm up and then hiked up the hill to get Ganga Darsan. There really wasn't a path to Mukhba, there was only the semi-dry water way to follow up. When we arrived at the winter temple, we found out it didn't open for another 3.5 hours. I decided to stay, but informed Mukesh he didn't have to stay. It got really really cold. I tried to scribble my experiences but had to frequently take breaks to warm my hands because they were shaking too much. I did a bit of jogging around the town, but still could not warm up. After waiting for 2 hours, it started to get dark, and I decided I couldn't handle it anymore. I also figured that the waterway was getting more slippery and I needed the light to get down. I apologized to Ganga, felt guilty for not seeing the main deity of my project when nothing but a door and time was separating me from her, but I also decided that this project was not worth my health or safety. I made it back to Dharali, where I found out that the taxi I came in was the last taxi back to Uttarkashi for the day, so I got a room above the tea stall. I came down to get more chai and try to warm up. The villagers built a fire and gave me a prime seat, however every part of my body that was farther than a few inches from the flames was still freezing. I eventually ran up to my room, piled the two 5 inch thick blankets on top of each other (since I left my sleeping bag in my room in Uttarkashi because I thought I would be coming back the same day), put them both over my head to try to use my own breath to help warm up my cave. I still shivered for a few hours and again slept very little due to my aching cold body. However it was a great day.
In the morning I caught a share taxi back to Uttarkashi blaring some Om Krishna songs from a tape, repeating the same 3 songs the entire time. In Uttarkashi I asked how to get to Devpravag. Though I got many different answers, I got the consensus that some bus left in the morning, but there were no more for the day. I spent the day exploring the temples in Uttarkashi and called Mukesh's friend Ganga to show me around, Ganga was perhaps a couple of years younger than me and she was very amused by the fact we both had brown hair and wore glasses. She hurried me through the temples a bit faster than I wanted to go, but also showed me many temples I wouldn't have found on my own. She also took me home to meet her family which was very nice. Afterwards I went back to the hotel, exhausted. I prepared for my journey the next day. At 10pm as I was falling asleep there was a knock on my door. One of the servants in the hotel who had come many times before. He said something like "me sleep here?" I thought it was a misunderstanding at first, I shook my head and said no figuring anything he was asking I didn't want since i just wanted to sleep. But he insisted, "me sleep here please? with you, sleep." After a "what?!" or two from me, I began to close the door, but he stuck his foot in and started to try to push his way in. I had to physically shove him out and lock the door as quickly as I could. I didn't sleep much this night either.
I woke up a full 2 hours before I was told the bus left, thinking I just wanted out of this hotel as soon as possible. It was a good thing too because the bus to Devpryag was left 1.5 hours earlier than what i was told. I got my seat, was told it was a 5 hour bus ride and by 30 min into the ride, the three people surrounding me were throwing up out the doors and windows. A woman actually started to sit on me because I didn't want to give up my seat and stand, and she wanted to be near the door. I won a lot of instant merit giving drammine pills to those around me, and in another hour everyone stopped throwing up. However the bus ride was still long, more like eight hours, and it was rough. The claustrophobia of having so many people hovering over me and around me, as well as the better paved roads made it a rather uncomfortable ride for me, and I began to contemplate the price for cheaper things in India. Eventually I made it to Devprayag, the confluence of the two rivers and where the river Bhagirathi becomes known as Ganga. I asked some old man where the rivers were. Our understanding was limited, but eventually he started to lead me. He took me down, I dipped my hands in the cold waters and then asked if he could help me find a guest house. As we started to climb back up the stairs with my huge backpack in the now getting hot sun, a Sadhu came out of this cave and invited me inside. I told him I would come back but I needed to find some place to put my bag down. He assured me that I could stay at his ashram free of charge. For whatever reason, though I was feeling pretty guarded from the night before, I decided to trust him. I spent the day in his cave, meeting many foreigners and locals that dropped by. He continually called this cave my home, my temple and offered me to come back at any time. After watching the evening ceremony, I walked the 2km to his ashram. It was a beautiful, a room that was built into the cliff so half of the room was still rock. Though there was no bed, the room was lovely and cozy. He fed me some rice and dal, and I went to sleep. In the morning he gave me lemon, ginger honey tea and let me take my time to wake up and meet him back at the river. I kept expecting him to ask for money, but he never did. Eventually I offered him some money as a thank you for feeding me and taking such good care of me, he was shocked at this offer. Even though I had watched for hours the previous day almost everyone offer him money and him taking it freely, when I offered him, he pushed it away and instead gave me 120 rupees "for my trip back home to Mussoorie." After a long conversation, he eventually agreed to take the money back. I was just so touched by his unconditional giving of me. He made a large bucket full of Roti dough, handed me a very large ball and led me to a perch in the rock and told me to break of little pieces to feed the fish. I sat there for perhaps 30 min slowly picking off pieces and feeding the many insatiable mouths of the Ganga in the form of fish. When I finished to say thank you and goodbye, he handed me another large ball. I spent a total of over an hour feeding these fish. I thanked him many times over and then found my way back to the bus stand. I couldn't go straight to Mussoorie, instead I had to go through Rishikesh. I decided to stop by and find Agni for lunch in Rishikesh. When I arrived, I was completely overwhelmed by the number of people, of white people and English signs! I eventually find Agni's abode called the Last Chance Cafe. I decided to spend the night because I was utterly exhausted. However the misquotes at last chance were an issue in the night.
In the morning one of the guys from Last Chance helped me find my way through Dehra Dun and back to Mussoorie. I made my last hike up a mountain with this particular backpack and load. It was a little over an hour when I surprised the family i was staying with with my early return. I took a very cold shower and washed up before meeting with Mr. Alter and retrieving my computer. I repacked my bags and prepared to leave for Haridwar the next morning, the place where the Ganga leaves the mountains and spills onto the Indian plains. I heard there was two Devi temples, so I made that my first stop. Haridwar was really hot, like really warm. The breeze from the car windows just felt like a hairblow dryer on my face. When I arrived at the entrance for the first Devi, Mansa Devi--a wish giving deity, I was totally shocked to see a long list of prices for cable cars and packages. I decided to embrace the tourist aspect of my pilgrimage. I took a cable car up the mountain past manicured gardens and past tons of stalls selling offerings, music videos, knick-knacks, ice cream, sodas and more. I decided this was like a Devi Disney land. The attractions and concessions continued, complete with rides and even little statues of mickey mouse. I saw the Chandi devi as well as another Anjuna Devi. I was completely overwhelmed. Because I had re-packed I was carrying a lot less and still hadn't found a place to stay. Some other people had warned me that Haridwar was a little seedy. Though I felt fine, when the taxi dropped some people at the bus stand I decided just to go back to Rishikesh since I would be going there first thing in the morning and it was a short ride (40 min). I arrived in Rishikesh and surprised Agni yet again as was welcomed back by everyone else at Last Chance.
Today I spent the day here, reading and relaxing for the most part. I caught up on my field journal and took my first full immersion into the river Ganga. Tomorrow I will hopefully complete my research in Rishikesh, take the weekend to enjoy with some friends from the program coming from Delhi and then picking up some books I need in Delhi before returning to Mussooire to write my paper. My head is still whirling with my experiences. I think overall I had a good experience. I am not sure what I learned yet, but I know I have a lot of reflections to sort through. Much love always and just wanted to let everyone know I survived. Much love,
~Tara
Sunday, April 5, 2009
And Down the Rabbit Hole I go!
So I took my first plunge and got to Mussoorie. My house is beautiful.
It has a large sitting room, my own bathroom and kitchen as well as a
king sized bed in my own bedroom. There is a lovely balcony with an
amazing view. The only down side is the fact that it is not a 10 min
walk but more like an hour walk away from town, and it is not a hill, it
is climbing a mountain. Fortunately the people I am renting from are
very sweet and have allowed offered me rides to and from town. Mussoorie
is very friendly with amazing views everywhere you look.
I feel my pilgrimage began yesterday when I decided to walk to and from
town on my own. I went to town around 4pm, looked around and saw the
shops and restaurants, and then slowly made my way up the mountain
collecting vegetables, water and various other little things for my
dinner at home at the last shops possible so I didn't have to carry them
that far. On the way up, i brought my ipod to keep my company, but i
decided not to listen to it. Instead I reflected on my pilgrimage
project, what is added and what is lost by physically walking versus
taking buses or cars, and instead listened to the sounds of my own
breath, my heart pounding and the chirps of the animals coming out as
night fell. I arrived home absolutely exhausted. I could do nothing but
collapse in my bed, crawl under the covers, eat a few pringles and fall
asleep. I slept for almost 12 hours. Now I am still coming off my fever
as well as much emotional turmoil over this crazy journey of mine, but
this exhaustion over a couple of hours of walking made me nervous.
Today I met with Stephen Alter, my inspiration for this entire
pilgrimage and so in some ways my own personal deity. He invited me to
his home (another unexpected hike), and was so helpful. We created a new
itinerary that I feel very good about, answered all my questions and
gave me resources. It all just happened so fast. Not only does he know
like everything, he was also very supportive about me finding and
creating my own narrative as my journey ensues. He further mentioned to
not feel bad or even alarmed if I decide to come back to Mussoorie. He
said that there are many goddesses and shrines near Mussoorie with lots
of interesting folklore that he could introduce me to and get material
to write about, and that often one finds the best things in unexpected
places. Needless to say, he is my hero. He then mentioned that I could
go straight to Yamnuotri from Mussoorie and save a day and a half of
travel, and then added that he knew someone going that perhaps I could
get a ride with. After our meeting we met this person (anna) who said
yes she was going and would love my company, and that I can meet her at
10am TOMORROW!!! So it looks like I am starting my journey a day early!
I am currently running around getting water purifying tablets and warm
shawls and heading back home to back up, AHHHH!! What am I doing?? I
actually feel a lot better, I know I will be fine. I will seek out
others to travel with, my schedule is much more flexible now. I can't
believe this is happening so fast, but I am excited.
I will probably be out of e-mail range until I get back which will
likely be around April 21. I miss you all and looking forward to e-mails
from you when I return
It has a large sitting room, my own bathroom and kitchen as well as a
king sized bed in my own bedroom. There is a lovely balcony with an
amazing view. The only down side is the fact that it is not a 10 min
walk but more like an hour walk away from town, and it is not a hill, it
is climbing a mountain. Fortunately the people I am renting from are
very sweet and have allowed offered me rides to and from town. Mussoorie
is very friendly with amazing views everywhere you look.
I feel my pilgrimage began yesterday when I decided to walk to and from
town on my own. I went to town around 4pm, looked around and saw the
shops and restaurants, and then slowly made my way up the mountain
collecting vegetables, water and various other little things for my
dinner at home at the last shops possible so I didn't have to carry them
that far. On the way up, i brought my ipod to keep my company, but i
decided not to listen to it. Instead I reflected on my pilgrimage
project, what is added and what is lost by physically walking versus
taking buses or cars, and instead listened to the sounds of my own
breath, my heart pounding and the chirps of the animals coming out as
night fell. I arrived home absolutely exhausted. I could do nothing but
collapse in my bed, crawl under the covers, eat a few pringles and fall
asleep. I slept for almost 12 hours. Now I am still coming off my fever
as well as much emotional turmoil over this crazy journey of mine, but
this exhaustion over a couple of hours of walking made me nervous.
Today I met with Stephen Alter, my inspiration for this entire
pilgrimage and so in some ways my own personal deity. He invited me to
his home (another unexpected hike), and was so helpful. We created a new
itinerary that I feel very good about, answered all my questions and
gave me resources. It all just happened so fast. Not only does he know
like everything, he was also very supportive about me finding and
creating my own narrative as my journey ensues. He further mentioned to
not feel bad or even alarmed if I decide to come back to Mussoorie. He
said that there are many goddesses and shrines near Mussoorie with lots
of interesting folklore that he could introduce me to and get material
to write about, and that often one finds the best things in unexpected
places. Needless to say, he is my hero. He then mentioned that I could
go straight to Yamnuotri from Mussoorie and save a day and a half of
travel, and then added that he knew someone going that perhaps I could
get a ride with. After our meeting we met this person (anna) who said
yes she was going and would love my company, and that I can meet her at
10am TOMORROW!!! So it looks like I am starting my journey a day early!
I am currently running around getting water purifying tablets and warm
shawls and heading back home to back up, AHHHH!! What am I doing?? I
actually feel a lot better, I know I will be fine. I will seek out
others to travel with, my schedule is much more flexible now. I can't
believe this is happening so fast, but I am excited.
I will probably be out of e-mail range until I get back which will
likely be around April 21. I miss you all and looking forward to e-mails
from you when I return
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
feverish beginnings
So I have been rather sick since my last update. Last week we think my roomate Katherine got some kind of virus. We didn't think it was related to bad food or water because anything she would have eaten/ drank other people had too, furthermore she had a fever and body aches which made us think of the flu. Katherine slept for three days and was fine. This past weekend while studying for our finals, I all of a sudden started to feel weak. I came down with a high fever, among other things which I will not go into because it wasn't pretty. I ended up skipping class/ my written hindi final on Monday. While I slept for much of Sunday and Monday.
However on I have been trying to get an e-mail with JNU professor that my academic director claims to be a very difficult person to get a hold of. After some e-mail exchanges he told me to call on monday to figure out a time. So I called him and he told me without much option to come see him at 2:30. I studied and rested until then, however I started to have chills. I went to see him anyways, had a really good interview, he gave me a lot of good information. However when I returned my fever was even worse, somewhere between 101 and 102. My body was burning and I asked my homestay to give me a cold cloth. After some rounds of the cold compress I felt much better. My Mama continually informed me that I was weaker than Katherine which is why my fever was so much worse. She blamed my weaker constitution on the fact that she thinks I eat very little. Me? have a small appetite? I don't think in my entire life I have been accused of having a small appetite, but somehow Mama has gotten that concept into her head. Perhaps this gives you an idea of how much they try to feed us. Tuesday morning I felt much better, though still not 100%. I came to school to take all three of my finals to get them over with since stressing while I was trying to rest wasn't really working out for me.
When I arrived at school I was greeted by two packages, one from my mother and one from Aunt Joan. Getting these packages lifted my spirits instantaneously. It is kinda funny, being with this group for these three months. We have all bought our entire wardrobes here, so we all know all of each other's outfits, hence we all notice very small changes very quickly. Literally within moments of me putting on my new earrings from Aunt Joan people complimented me on them and asked where I got them from, students and teachers. It is very strange that I have been with these same 17 people for the whole semester and starting on saturday I will not see any of them for an entire month, more than that I will be alone for a whole month. On my journey to Jaisalmer I was away from Katherine for the first time for longer than 12 hours since literally the first day here, and it felt so strange.
Right now I am in the "nervous anticipatory phase." It is the same feeling I had before coming to coming to India, before coming to Wesleyan, before coming to UWC. It is the "oh my god am I really doing this" phase. The feeling before embarking on something completely unknown but knowing I will tackle what ever comes my and that some how I will get through it. To help ease and aide this feeling I took my first step in my pilgrimage yesterday.
A pilgrimage is a simultaneous physical and spiritual discipline. I wanted to cut my hair before India but decided to do it in India. In short I have thought about it many times but my plans kept getting postponed. I decided it would be a good idea to cut my hair for in the mountains it would be cooler while hiking to have shorter hair as well as take less resources (water and soap) to maintain. I finally decided to get my hair cut on my birthday, as a birthday gift to myself as well as a symbolic renewal of myself. However, yesterday I tried to get in the house but no one answered, so in a moment of compulsion I went to the salon across the street and got my hair cut. It is now just above shoulder length. After coming home everyone seemed to think that I in fact look better with short hair, I rather like it too though I am still getting used to it. So I have taken my first physical transformation on my spiritual journey to understand the myths of the himalayas.
As I said before, I will be leaving on Saturday for the mountains and will be there until May 5th. I should have limited internet access from april 4th-7th, and then again from April 23-May 5th. In between I will be hiking in the mountains. Wish me luck for I am currently feeling the "oh my god am I really doing this" emotion, but I should come back with at least some good stories.
Much love always
However on I have been trying to get an e-mail with JNU professor that my academic director claims to be a very difficult person to get a hold of. After some e-mail exchanges he told me to call on monday to figure out a time. So I called him and he told me without much option to come see him at 2:30. I studied and rested until then, however I started to have chills. I went to see him anyways, had a really good interview, he gave me a lot of good information. However when I returned my fever was even worse, somewhere between 101 and 102. My body was burning and I asked my homestay to give me a cold cloth. After some rounds of the cold compress I felt much better. My Mama continually informed me that I was weaker than Katherine which is why my fever was so much worse. She blamed my weaker constitution on the fact that she thinks I eat very little. Me? have a small appetite? I don't think in my entire life I have been accused of having a small appetite, but somehow Mama has gotten that concept into her head. Perhaps this gives you an idea of how much they try to feed us. Tuesday morning I felt much better, though still not 100%. I came to school to take all three of my finals to get them over with since stressing while I was trying to rest wasn't really working out for me.
When I arrived at school I was greeted by two packages, one from my mother and one from Aunt Joan. Getting these packages lifted my spirits instantaneously. It is kinda funny, being with this group for these three months. We have all bought our entire wardrobes here, so we all know all of each other's outfits, hence we all notice very small changes very quickly. Literally within moments of me putting on my new earrings from Aunt Joan people complimented me on them and asked where I got them from, students and teachers. It is very strange that I have been with these same 17 people for the whole semester and starting on saturday I will not see any of them for an entire month, more than that I will be alone for a whole month. On my journey to Jaisalmer I was away from Katherine for the first time for longer than 12 hours since literally the first day here, and it felt so strange.
Right now I am in the "nervous anticipatory phase." It is the same feeling I had before coming to coming to India, before coming to Wesleyan, before coming to UWC. It is the "oh my god am I really doing this" phase. The feeling before embarking on something completely unknown but knowing I will tackle what ever comes my and that some how I will get through it. To help ease and aide this feeling I took my first step in my pilgrimage yesterday.
A pilgrimage is a simultaneous physical and spiritual discipline. I wanted to cut my hair before India but decided to do it in India. In short I have thought about it many times but my plans kept getting postponed. I decided it would be a good idea to cut my hair for in the mountains it would be cooler while hiking to have shorter hair as well as take less resources (water and soap) to maintain. I finally decided to get my hair cut on my birthday, as a birthday gift to myself as well as a symbolic renewal of myself. However, yesterday I tried to get in the house but no one answered, so in a moment of compulsion I went to the salon across the street and got my hair cut. It is now just above shoulder length. After coming home everyone seemed to think that I in fact look better with short hair, I rather like it too though I am still getting used to it. So I have taken my first physical transformation on my spiritual journey to understand the myths of the himalayas.
As I said before, I will be leaving on Saturday for the mountains and will be there until May 5th. I should have limited internet access from april 4th-7th, and then again from April 23-May 5th. In between I will be hiking in the mountains. Wish me luck for I am currently feeling the "oh my god am I really doing this" emotion, but I should come back with at least some good stories.
Much love always
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Varanasi
I can't believe how fast this semester is flying. We are currently in the last week of class, next week is our finals and then we are on our independent projects! I have reached my capacity for Hindi, all the tenses, cases, rules and exceptions are merging together.
Anywho, so what another whirlwind. Like I briefly mentioned, Jaisalmer was wonderful though not as relaxing as I had hoped. We spent a lot of time singing and my voice was hoarse for a few days after. However I learned to play this instrument called Kartal which are these two flat wooden plank-type things that go in each hand and click together in rapid succession. They look really easy, but let me tell you they are not. Our teachers gave me a pair so I will be able to show you how difficult they are to play. When we were able to explore, Jaisalmer proved to be a very photogenic city. The elaborate havelis, narrow alleys and the large Jaisalmer fort kept begging to remembered in every detail. While I took many pictures, i fear none do Jaisalmer justice. On a related note, a bit of a tragedy occurred. While my music teachers were very kind, patient and sweet, they were also a little pushy to be documented for promotional purposes. In one hurried--and on my part reluctant--documentation sessions, I accidentally erased over my amazing tiger footage...I was quite devastated, but what can you do?
After returning from Jaisalmer, only a day later I got right back on an overnight train to Varanasi, the holiest city in India. Though I was reluctant at first, I am very glad now that I did go. We left on Friday after classes and arrived in Varanasi at 9am Saturday. Rickshaws are not allowed within a certain distance from the ghats, so we walked through the bazars, past silk shops, food stalls, cows and lines of people walking in pilgrimage procession to the scared waters of the ganges together. Upon arriving at the waters edge, we were greeted with boats, masseuses, boat rides, friends, opium sellers and more. We got a little lost looking for our guest house and ended up exploring the ghats much further north than we expected. Our guest house was in the old city, very close to the burning ghats. When we arrived at the burning ghats the strangest thing happened to me. We were watching a cremation, several in fact, and all of a sudden I got very dizzy, as if I was about to faint. I wasn't upset by the images, nor was I hot or dehydrated, but my body all of a sudden got very overwhelmed. After sitting down for a few moments I was fine, but it was an interesting way to be introduced to Varanasi. Our guest house had a wonderful 24 rooftop restaurant with a free pool table.
Later returning to the burning ghat, we were able to watch from above about 5 cremations happening at once at various stages. One body had just been brought to the ghat, another was having its final bath in the Ganges. Another had just been placed on the pyre, another had been burning for a long time and I could make out the head, charred and sticking out from the wood. The last was having its ashes spread into the ganges and someone sifting through them looking for jewelery. I was told about 300 cremations happen at this ghat every day. Many people come to varanasi to wait to die. This was very interesting to me since it directly related to my project of Ganga and her symbolic power. I will not bore you know with all the amazing things I am learning and how they all correlate in fascinating ways, I'll make you read my paper later. But in general, the goddess Ganga fell from the heavens to cleanse the sins of this family, but not all of her fell. Consequently, Ganga is a symbol for spiritual purity and since part of her remains in the heavens, she is a direct link to the heavens as well. It is thought that all those who die in Varansi achieve mosksha instantaeously. There are many stories of people who are saved from hell (even if they were burglers or other questionable professions) who because a drop of Ganga's waters bushed his face carried by the wind they were sent to heaven instead of hell. Ok so enough about my research.
Most of Varansi was just walking around and exploring, watching people, seeing things I didn't understand, getting lost in the back alleys and discovering new things. In short I loved it. We took an evening boat ride to see the evening puja in a front row seat on the river. There were like 6 young men performing somewhat of a dance in synch paying homage to ganga and Shiva. We then woke up early for a sunrise boat ride to see the morning light bathe the pilgrims as they washed away their sins and their clothes. Later we went to the Bharata Mata temple, a place where the divinity is actually a marble relief of a map of India. Througout the trip I made many friends, people who remembered as I walked by, most of whom I forgot. On sunday we returned to the train station, only to find out in small incriments that our train was delayed more and more. Our train was scheduled to arrive in varansi at 3:45 pm, we didn't get on the train until 9:45 pm. Our train was supposed to arrive at 4:30am monday morning, we didn't arrive until 2:30pm, missed all our classes and we jumped off the train a few stops before ours and just figured out how to get to school. I have to say I am rather proud of how competent I feel to get around and deal with unexpected situations. What else is there to say? I have many pictures, tell me what you think! Scroll to the bottom, I have added more pictures (though some are sideways)
http://picasaweb.google.com/midnightdiamond/MySemesterInTheLandOfDjinns
Now I am working in finals mode and trying to get my ISP together.
Anywho, so what another whirlwind. Like I briefly mentioned, Jaisalmer was wonderful though not as relaxing as I had hoped. We spent a lot of time singing and my voice was hoarse for a few days after. However I learned to play this instrument called Kartal which are these two flat wooden plank-type things that go in each hand and click together in rapid succession. They look really easy, but let me tell you they are not. Our teachers gave me a pair so I will be able to show you how difficult they are to play. When we were able to explore, Jaisalmer proved to be a very photogenic city. The elaborate havelis, narrow alleys and the large Jaisalmer fort kept begging to remembered in every detail. While I took many pictures, i fear none do Jaisalmer justice. On a related note, a bit of a tragedy occurred. While my music teachers were very kind, patient and sweet, they were also a little pushy to be documented for promotional purposes. In one hurried--and on my part reluctant--documentation sessions, I accidentally erased over my amazing tiger footage...I was quite devastated, but what can you do?
After returning from Jaisalmer, only a day later I got right back on an overnight train to Varanasi, the holiest city in India. Though I was reluctant at first, I am very glad now that I did go. We left on Friday after classes and arrived in Varanasi at 9am Saturday. Rickshaws are not allowed within a certain distance from the ghats, so we walked through the bazars, past silk shops, food stalls, cows and lines of people walking in pilgrimage procession to the scared waters of the ganges together. Upon arriving at the waters edge, we were greeted with boats, masseuses, boat rides, friends, opium sellers and more. We got a little lost looking for our guest house and ended up exploring the ghats much further north than we expected. Our guest house was in the old city, very close to the burning ghats. When we arrived at the burning ghats the strangest thing happened to me. We were watching a cremation, several in fact, and all of a sudden I got very dizzy, as if I was about to faint. I wasn't upset by the images, nor was I hot or dehydrated, but my body all of a sudden got very overwhelmed. After sitting down for a few moments I was fine, but it was an interesting way to be introduced to Varanasi. Our guest house had a wonderful 24 rooftop restaurant with a free pool table.
Later returning to the burning ghat, we were able to watch from above about 5 cremations happening at once at various stages. One body had just been brought to the ghat, another was having its final bath in the Ganges. Another had just been placed on the pyre, another had been burning for a long time and I could make out the head, charred and sticking out from the wood. The last was having its ashes spread into the ganges and someone sifting through them looking for jewelery. I was told about 300 cremations happen at this ghat every day. Many people come to varanasi to wait to die. This was very interesting to me since it directly related to my project of Ganga and her symbolic power. I will not bore you know with all the amazing things I am learning and how they all correlate in fascinating ways, I'll make you read my paper later. But in general, the goddess Ganga fell from the heavens to cleanse the sins of this family, but not all of her fell. Consequently, Ganga is a symbol for spiritual purity and since part of her remains in the heavens, she is a direct link to the heavens as well. It is thought that all those who die in Varansi achieve mosksha instantaeously. There are many stories of people who are saved from hell (even if they were burglers or other questionable professions) who because a drop of Ganga's waters bushed his face carried by the wind they were sent to heaven instead of hell. Ok so enough about my research.
Most of Varansi was just walking around and exploring, watching people, seeing things I didn't understand, getting lost in the back alleys and discovering new things. In short I loved it. We took an evening boat ride to see the evening puja in a front row seat on the river. There were like 6 young men performing somewhat of a dance in synch paying homage to ganga and Shiva. We then woke up early for a sunrise boat ride to see the morning light bathe the pilgrims as they washed away their sins and their clothes. Later we went to the Bharata Mata temple, a place where the divinity is actually a marble relief of a map of India. Througout the trip I made many friends, people who remembered as I walked by, most of whom I forgot. On sunday we returned to the train station, only to find out in small incriments that our train was delayed more and more. Our train was scheduled to arrive in varansi at 3:45 pm, we didn't get on the train until 9:45 pm. Our train was supposed to arrive at 4:30am monday morning, we didn't arrive until 2:30pm, missed all our classes and we jumped off the train a few stops before ours and just figured out how to get to school. I have to say I am rather proud of how competent I feel to get around and deal with unexpected situations. What else is there to say? I have many pictures, tell me what you think! Scroll to the bottom, I have added more pictures (though some are sideways)
http://picasaweb.google.com/midnightdiamond/MySemesterInTheLandOfDjinns
Now I am working in finals mode and trying to get my ISP together.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Jaisalmer
So this will very short and quick since I have class in ten minutes.
Last Wednesday we left for workshops in which I chose to study folk music in the desert city of Jaisalmer. It was a beautiful city with lots of ornate havelis, however we studied music for about 7 hours a day and hence did not have much time to see the city. Some highlights were the fact that we had more teachers than students (4 students 6 teachers). We "learned" about 6 instruments and sang a lot. My voice is still a little hoarse actually. Another highlight was going to the desert sand dunes, the sand was like silk and the stars were so bright. Our teachers performed for us in the desert with two beautiful gypsy girls dancing.
Today I am on my way to Varansi. I am excited though also stressed since I just got back from workshops, I am tired and I am worried about my ISP research. Anyways, much love and I'll write more when I get back
Last Wednesday we left for workshops in which I chose to study folk music in the desert city of Jaisalmer. It was a beautiful city with lots of ornate havelis, however we studied music for about 7 hours a day and hence did not have much time to see the city. Some highlights were the fact that we had more teachers than students (4 students 6 teachers). We "learned" about 6 instruments and sang a lot. My voice is still a little hoarse actually. Another highlight was going to the desert sand dunes, the sand was like silk and the stars were so bright. Our teachers performed for us in the desert with two beautiful gypsy girls dancing.
Today I am on my way to Varansi. I am excited though also stressed since I just got back from workshops, I am tired and I am worried about my ISP research. Anyways, much love and I'll write more when I get back
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Holi....It was a long day
Saying "it was a long day" just doesn't quite do the last few days justice. So last Thursday we had our Hindi midterm, and though I still don't know my exact grade I have been told I did really well. After the test I hung out with Agni before he departed for Varanasi and Nepal. Katherine and I have a home stay-cousin (Amrit, the one from the barbecue) who offered to take us to a club Thursday night. So, feeling like rebellious teenagers, we packed all of our make-up and each of our one western shirts into a bag, and left the house in our kurtas. We went to meet up with friends to have dinner in Khan market and changed into our western outfits in a bathroom. We later realized it was way too early to go to a club, so ended up having to go home and changing back into our kurtas. When we got home we told Mama that Amrit was taking us out, she was very excited for us. We got once again re changed into our western outfits and showed Mama for approval before left (of which she was very pleased). Amrit picked us up from our house and with one of his friends from childhood took us to the country club where mama had taken us. we had a few drinks and danced a bit and then we went to this club that we had heard about. There were a lot of foreigners there, mostly techno music, and these funny Khajuraho life-size carvings on the back wall. Unfortunately the evening took a turn for me when Amrit's friend tired to be too friendly with me. We eventually went home at 2:30 am and I promptly woke up at 5:30 to go back to school with my bags packed for the weekend.
Friday was the day of things going wrong. At every step something little happened that could have irked me, but somehow none of them got to me. I'll spare you the whole story because I'd rather spend time writing you all the wonderful things that happened. After classes I went to my third cooking class and went straight to the train station where I met up with six other classmates to catch our overnight train to Udaipur, city of lakes. After not sleeping the night before, I slept very well on the train and the 12 hour journey went by very quickly.
We arrived in Udaipur at 8 am, and went to our guesthouse which was down a few alleys from the City Palace with a beautiful view of the lake from our windows. This was by far the most modest place I have stayed in thus far, nothing but a room with a bed, window and fan. The outlet had nothing behind it, the bathroom was shared by everyone, but it was absolutely perfect. There was an amazing rooftop with a spectacular view where we spent much of our time. We found a wonderful cheap place to eat, and from there wandered around for a bit. We found a great guy who made pint sized fresh juices without ice or water, i had a pomegranate and pineapple juice for about $0.70. We then met a Sufi who invited us to his gallery to get our nails painted with miniature painting free of charge. We got some beers and came back to our guest house and chatted on the roof for hours. In the evening we went to the city palace and found the most romantic restaurant ever. It was rather expensive, but for the quality it was really cheap in comparison for what would be equal to it in the US. Further more it was on the lake side where we could see the lake lit up at night. I had a Thai curry and rose petal ice cream (which I have been looking for for YEARs and had candied rose petals in it, AMAZING!). Though it was out of my budget, it was really perfect and very healing to pamper myself a bit from Thursday night. We went home and played mafia and had a good night sleep.
Overall I feel like it is really difficult to describe why Udaipur was so amazing. We didn't actually do anything in particular. It was just nice to be in a beautiful place that was relaxed, people weren't pushy to sell us things. There were a lot of tourists there, in the area we were perhaps even more tourists than Indians, but I never felt overwhelmed by tourists. In fact most places we went to, restaurants, stores, sites, we were the only tourists around. It was just so relaxing and wonderful. I didn't even take many pictures because I don't think I could have captured the feeling that i was feeling. To be honest the sites we not that spectacular, but for the time and place, nothing could have been better. We did a bit of shopping, and then boarded our train back to Delhi at 6pm to arrive at 6:30am. The train ride was a nice bonding trip, but at 12:30 we got kicked out of our beds by new boarders, which resulted in them snoring like bears (or louder), and us not getting any sleep. We left for our program center straight from the train station. We were all kind of delirious, me especially since I also got sick (cold sick). That day we happened to also have a long lecture day where we learned about Sufism, went to Nizzamudin and Huymanun's tomb and listed to Qwaali music. We finally got home at 7pm, the first time I had been home since 7 am Friday morning, a long day to say the least.
Yesterday was Holi, a holiday of which I am still a little unclear about the mythological story behind it. Something about defeating a demon in a fire. Anyways, Holi seems to be one of the main holidays here in India, all of the advertisements have been utilizing Holi iconography for weeks, sales have been going on. Our school schedule got significantly rearranged due to SIT planning for Holi to be today and instead the decided date was yesterday instead. So, Holi seems to be April fools day, Halloween, St. Patrick's day, Mardi Gras, and a city wide food fight rolled up into one and simultaneously completely unique. Basically India turns into a country-wide paintball fight with water balloons, colored powder (yellow, orange, red, green, purple, pink, silver, gold), buckets of water, and in some cases, eggs, tar, grease, paint and more. I bought a plain white kurta so I can show everyone what kinds of color I was drenched in. Katherine and I went with Amrit to hang out with his friends (from the barbecue), and were promptly greeted with water guns filled with colored water, and bags of colored powder. As we drove from our house to his in his open jeep, we were easy targets for children from balconies and people crossing the street armed with water balloons and super soakers. Whenever a friend greeted us he or she grabbed a handful of colored powder and smeared it all over our face, always straight for the face. Then of course we reciprocated. Buckets of water (including muddy water) were often dumped on people from behind. When ever we were unexpectedly hit by some kids with water balloon the entire group (of about 12) would congratulate them on the good hit! We drove around for hours in the playful warzone learning tacit rules such as girls are the biggest targets for buckets of water, and not to hit anyone who didn't already have color on them already because that meant they didn't want to play. However if they did, they were fair game. It was quite a crazy and fun experience. I came home to Soha not even recognizing me because I was completely covered in green. The colors surprisingly came out rather well though my scalp and certain patches of skin are still dyed. In the evening after washing up I got to see Meera which just was the perfect touch to a wonderful day.
Right now all of us at the program center are freaking out a little because we have another midterm tomorrow as well as our ISP proposal due tomorrow. Saturday we leave for our workshops, I will be gong to Jaisalmer (in Rajistan again yay!) to study fold music and maybe dance. I am really excited, but it probably means I won't have access to e-mail until I get back next weekend. So until then, much love always.
Friday was the day of things going wrong. At every step something little happened that could have irked me, but somehow none of them got to me. I'll spare you the whole story because I'd rather spend time writing you all the wonderful things that happened. After classes I went to my third cooking class and went straight to the train station where I met up with six other classmates to catch our overnight train to Udaipur, city of lakes. After not sleeping the night before, I slept very well on the train and the 12 hour journey went by very quickly.
We arrived in Udaipur at 8 am, and went to our guesthouse which was down a few alleys from the City Palace with a beautiful view of the lake from our windows. This was by far the most modest place I have stayed in thus far, nothing but a room with a bed, window and fan. The outlet had nothing behind it, the bathroom was shared by everyone, but it was absolutely perfect. There was an amazing rooftop with a spectacular view where we spent much of our time. We found a wonderful cheap place to eat, and from there wandered around for a bit. We found a great guy who made pint sized fresh juices without ice or water, i had a pomegranate and pineapple juice for about $0.70. We then met a Sufi who invited us to his gallery to get our nails painted with miniature painting free of charge. We got some beers and came back to our guest house and chatted on the roof for hours. In the evening we went to the city palace and found the most romantic restaurant ever. It was rather expensive, but for the quality it was really cheap in comparison for what would be equal to it in the US. Further more it was on the lake side where we could see the lake lit up at night. I had a Thai curry and rose petal ice cream (which I have been looking for for YEARs and had candied rose petals in it, AMAZING!). Though it was out of my budget, it was really perfect and very healing to pamper myself a bit from Thursday night. We went home and played mafia and had a good night sleep.
Overall I feel like it is really difficult to describe why Udaipur was so amazing. We didn't actually do anything in particular. It was just nice to be in a beautiful place that was relaxed, people weren't pushy to sell us things. There were a lot of tourists there, in the area we were perhaps even more tourists than Indians, but I never felt overwhelmed by tourists. In fact most places we went to, restaurants, stores, sites, we were the only tourists around. It was just so relaxing and wonderful. I didn't even take many pictures because I don't think I could have captured the feeling that i was feeling. To be honest the sites we not that spectacular, but for the time and place, nothing could have been better. We did a bit of shopping, and then boarded our train back to Delhi at 6pm to arrive at 6:30am. The train ride was a nice bonding trip, but at 12:30 we got kicked out of our beds by new boarders, which resulted in them snoring like bears (or louder), and us not getting any sleep. We left for our program center straight from the train station. We were all kind of delirious, me especially since I also got sick (cold sick). That day we happened to also have a long lecture day where we learned about Sufism, went to Nizzamudin and Huymanun's tomb and listed to Qwaali music. We finally got home at 7pm, the first time I had been home since 7 am Friday morning, a long day to say the least.
Yesterday was Holi, a holiday of which I am still a little unclear about the mythological story behind it. Something about defeating a demon in a fire. Anyways, Holi seems to be one of the main holidays here in India, all of the advertisements have been utilizing Holi iconography for weeks, sales have been going on. Our school schedule got significantly rearranged due to SIT planning for Holi to be today and instead the decided date was yesterday instead. So, Holi seems to be April fools day, Halloween, St. Patrick's day, Mardi Gras, and a city wide food fight rolled up into one and simultaneously completely unique. Basically India turns into a country-wide paintball fight with water balloons, colored powder (yellow, orange, red, green, purple, pink, silver, gold), buckets of water, and in some cases, eggs, tar, grease, paint and more. I bought a plain white kurta so I can show everyone what kinds of color I was drenched in. Katherine and I went with Amrit to hang out with his friends (from the barbecue), and were promptly greeted with water guns filled with colored water, and bags of colored powder. As we drove from our house to his in his open jeep, we were easy targets for children from balconies and people crossing the street armed with water balloons and super soakers. Whenever a friend greeted us he or she grabbed a handful of colored powder and smeared it all over our face, always straight for the face. Then of course we reciprocated. Buckets of water (including muddy water) were often dumped on people from behind. When ever we were unexpectedly hit by some kids with water balloon the entire group (of about 12) would congratulate them on the good hit! We drove around for hours in the playful warzone learning tacit rules such as girls are the biggest targets for buckets of water, and not to hit anyone who didn't already have color on them already because that meant they didn't want to play. However if they did, they were fair game. It was quite a crazy and fun experience. I came home to Soha not even recognizing me because I was completely covered in green. The colors surprisingly came out rather well though my scalp and certain patches of skin are still dyed. In the evening after washing up I got to see Meera which just was the perfect touch to a wonderful day.
Right now all of us at the program center are freaking out a little because we have another midterm tomorrow as well as our ISP proposal due tomorrow. Saturday we leave for our workshops, I will be gong to Jaisalmer (in Rajistan again yay!) to study fold music and maybe dance. I am really excited, but it probably means I won't have access to e-mail until I get back next weekend. So until then, much love always.
updated contact info
I just wanted to update you all that the contact information I previously sent is wrong. The correct mailing address is
Tara Kelton
c/o SIT
F-301, 2nd floor, Lado Sarai
New Delhi--110030, India
I also have a cellphone where I can be reached if you are willing to make the long distance call.
91-965-417-0946
Tara Kelton
c/o SIT
F-301, 2nd floor, Lado Sarai
New Delhi--110030, India
I also have a cellphone where I can be reached if you are willing to make the long distance call.
91-965-417-0946
Monday, March 2, 2009
Temples and Tigers and Weddings oh my!
Friday last week was our home stay mother's birthday. We had a lovely time getting to know the family. Apparently in India you socialize and drink, then you have desert, then you have dinner, then you leave. So we got dressed up, had drinks constantly in our hands (and refilled before we could finish them). Maybe it was because we haven't drank anything since we arrived or maybe it was because they mixed particularly strong drinks, but we got tipsy rather fast. We watched Indian Idol for awhile, which apparently is like a huge deal and they were in the final three. Then Soha sang for a bit, and we were quizzed on translating the songs from Hindi (we didn't do that well). Then we fed Mama bites of chocolate cake and then went to a yummy Italian restaurant where I had homemade raviolis with pesto., however we arrived at 11:00pm, so it was a long long night. I am not getting sick of Indian food per say, it is still tasty, I am just noticing that I am really used to have a wide variety of food at home. The next morning, we woke up (still drunk) at 4 am to catch our 5am train to Gwalior. It was a bit of a rough day.
I got some sleep on the train and felt better. We had to all get off the train in 2 min which was a bit of a mad rush. We saw some nice museum with some beautiful sculptures and some forts that featured blue and yellow duckies in the tiles. We also saw some awesome stone screen carvings. Every place felt really rushed though. Storm-Ji takes us to her favorite pieces at the site/ museum and then gives us 5-10 min to "explore."The next day we went to Orrcha by car. On the way we stopped at a fort in Datia which was structured like a mandala. The forts here are really palaces for the royalty. However the Datia fort was never inhabited it was a purely symbolic structure. By this time I had come down with quite a cold, so I was rather miserable for the Gwalior/ Orcha leg of the journey, so I will skip over this part and just saw we some some cool temples and staying in really nice guest houses.
Leaving for Khajuraho i watched a bit of the Oscars playing live in the morning, which felt sooo nice! Thought the 8 hour car drive we got updates from Strom-Ji's blackberry about how many Oscars Slumdog Millionaire got, we also got updates from the radio interrupting songs. I don't think I have never heard so much about a movie abroad, it is part of daily conversation here. India is soooo proud of the movie, though there is also considerable controversy, mostly around the name "slumdog." Anyways, I saw best supporting actress and best screenplay. After we arrived at Khajuraho, we checked in and saw some temples in the evening.The day we were in Khajuraho was Shivnatri, which is the celebration of Shiva's wedding with Paravati. We had the evening off since most nights we had Hindi class. We went into town, had to almost crawl though this tiny alley way to get to this fair with ferris wheels. We decided to tempt fate and get on one, it was quite fun but a little scary, and getting on the Ferris wheel this guy slyly touched four of our asses. We eventually told him off, but dealing stares and groups of men was much more of an issue here than any other place we had been too so far. It might have been due to the festival and everyone being high. We then went to an restaurant to have Pizza and saw the parade for Shivnatri from the rooftop of the restaurant. In the evening we indulged in TV and watched the Oscars that were being replayed, and when MILK won for best screenplay I was excited to hear the speech again, but as he came up to accept the Oscar they cut out the speech entirely! I was so mad. An insight into Indian censorship around homophobia. The next day we stayed and saw the more popular temples. We also went out exploring on our own to do temple/ site sketches. I found drawing (something I never really do) was a really cool exercise in observing.
The next morning we went to Bandhabgarh to see the Tiger Sanctuary. It was a really really long drive, but a beautiful reserve. After we arrived we went in open jeeps and basically just drove around for about 2 hours. I almost gave up after seeing deers, birds and monkeys over and over again but no tigers. In fact there were a few times I even forgot we were looking for tigers. But then at the very end we was 3 different tigers!!! I unfortunately don't really have any photos, but I have some AMAZING footage. We came back in the morning to look for tigers again and told we could also ride elephants, though this never happened. It was quite breathtaking to see these Bengal Tigers in the wild, and it was hilarious how all these tourists in open jeeps were fighting to get closer and take pictures, and trying to be quiet. Anyways, we were sad to leave to get on to a 17 hour train after a 3 hour car ride back to Delhi.
After arriving 2 hours late in Delhi, Kathrine and I high tailed it back home to take a quick shower and change into our Saris for the wedding. The wedding was of an Australian woman and a Indian man who decided to have a traditional Indian wedding. We never really knew what was going on, but it was cool to watch. There was some ceremony of putting a veil on the groom to shield him from the evil eye. Then there was a ceremony with the groom on a white horse with everyone dancing in front of the horse. This was quite awkward just because it looked like none of the Australians knew what was going on either, so there was very little dancing actually happening and instead a lot of standing around. Then there was a garland ceremony as the bride came, and longer beautiful ceremony where the bride and groom made 7 promises to each other and walked around the fire with a priest, after this they were "man and wife." After we sat down with the brides family, and wow were they in culture shock. They could simply not wrap their heads around why we liked India, how we could deal with getting around in rickshaws, how "disorganized" India was, ect. It was kinda a shock to hear all these things since I don't think we experienced judging here in the same way. It was also just strange because they had only been here for 5 days and staying in very very nice hotels with private drivers etc, we were just kinda looking at them like "you have no idea." We got home at 12:30 am and slept well, sleeping in for the first time since arriving in India.
Yesterday we woke up and were informed we were spending the day with the family. It was the last day of exams for Mama's granddaughter, so we picked her up, had a nice celebration coffee, a wonderful Kashmiry lunch with the family and then went to see our first Bollywood film called Delhi 6. It was a really interesting experience watching a movie without subtitles in a language we didn't understand. We got most of it and our family helped translate the parts we were confused. I actually really enjoyed it, Indian films really love to overtly play with cinematography and editing, which is fun because the narrative is really simple and remains very similar across films. We later went to an Indian barbecue at our "cousin"'s house, his name is Amrit. It was a birthday party of Amrit's friend. There were a bunch of people there, all perhaps in their late 20s. When we arrived though we were the only ones wearing traditional Indian clothes, everyone else was wearing skinny jeans and fitted tops, we felt pretty ridiculous. We explained that we were educated to ONLY wear these clothes here, they laughed out loud at us and spent a while explaining how ridiculous that was. feel like I have so much more to say about this weekend. It was just such a whirlwind to go to these smaller villages where we were constantly stared at no matter how conservatively we were dressed (which became a issue in dividing up the boys to accompany us places), then to go to this opulent wedding where these foreigners were completely overwhelmed with India and had nothing to say but complaints, to hanging out with locals and seeing the new clash with the old.
Ok enough for now, Hindi midterms coming up and going to Udaipur (city of lakes) this weekend. Love you all!
I got some sleep on the train and felt better. We had to all get off the train in 2 min which was a bit of a mad rush. We saw some nice museum with some beautiful sculptures and some forts that featured blue and yellow duckies in the tiles. We also saw some awesome stone screen carvings. Every place felt really rushed though. Storm-Ji takes us to her favorite pieces at the site/ museum and then gives us 5-10 min to "explore."The next day we went to Orrcha by car. On the way we stopped at a fort in Datia which was structured like a mandala. The forts here are really palaces for the royalty. However the Datia fort was never inhabited it was a purely symbolic structure. By this time I had come down with quite a cold, so I was rather miserable for the Gwalior/ Orcha leg of the journey, so I will skip over this part and just saw we some some cool temples and staying in really nice guest houses.
Leaving for Khajuraho i watched a bit of the Oscars playing live in the morning, which felt sooo nice! Thought the 8 hour car drive we got updates from Strom-Ji's blackberry about how many Oscars Slumdog Millionaire got, we also got updates from the radio interrupting songs. I don't think I have never heard so much about a movie abroad, it is part of daily conversation here. India is soooo proud of the movie, though there is also considerable controversy, mostly around the name "slumdog." Anyways, I saw best supporting actress and best screenplay. After we arrived at Khajuraho, we checked in and saw some temples in the evening.The day we were in Khajuraho was Shivnatri, which is the celebration of Shiva's wedding with Paravati. We had the evening off since most nights we had Hindi class. We went into town, had to almost crawl though this tiny alley way to get to this fair with ferris wheels. We decided to tempt fate and get on one, it was quite fun but a little scary, and getting on the Ferris wheel this guy slyly touched four of our asses. We eventually told him off, but dealing stares and groups of men was much more of an issue here than any other place we had been too so far. It might have been due to the festival and everyone being high. We then went to an restaurant to have Pizza and saw the parade for Shivnatri from the rooftop of the restaurant. In the evening we indulged in TV and watched the Oscars that were being replayed, and when MILK won for best screenplay I was excited to hear the speech again, but as he came up to accept the Oscar they cut out the speech entirely! I was so mad. An insight into Indian censorship around homophobia. The next day we stayed and saw the more popular temples. We also went out exploring on our own to do temple/ site sketches. I found drawing (something I never really do) was a really cool exercise in observing.
The next morning we went to Bandhabgarh to see the Tiger Sanctuary. It was a really really long drive, but a beautiful reserve. After we arrived we went in open jeeps and basically just drove around for about 2 hours. I almost gave up after seeing deers, birds and monkeys over and over again but no tigers. In fact there were a few times I even forgot we were looking for tigers. But then at the very end we was 3 different tigers!!! I unfortunately don't really have any photos, but I have some AMAZING footage. We came back in the morning to look for tigers again and told we could also ride elephants, though this never happened. It was quite breathtaking to see these Bengal Tigers in the wild, and it was hilarious how all these tourists in open jeeps were fighting to get closer and take pictures, and trying to be quiet. Anyways, we were sad to leave to get on to a 17 hour train after a 3 hour car ride back to Delhi.
After arriving 2 hours late in Delhi, Kathrine and I high tailed it back home to take a quick shower and change into our Saris for the wedding. The wedding was of an Australian woman and a Indian man who decided to have a traditional Indian wedding. We never really knew what was going on, but it was cool to watch. There was some ceremony of putting a veil on the groom to shield him from the evil eye. Then there was a ceremony with the groom on a white horse with everyone dancing in front of the horse. This was quite awkward just because it looked like none of the Australians knew what was going on either, so there was very little dancing actually happening and instead a lot of standing around. Then there was a garland ceremony as the bride came, and longer beautiful ceremony where the bride and groom made 7 promises to each other and walked around the fire with a priest, after this they were "man and wife." After we sat down with the brides family, and wow were they in culture shock. They could simply not wrap their heads around why we liked India, how we could deal with getting around in rickshaws, how "disorganized" India was, ect. It was kinda a shock to hear all these things since I don't think we experienced judging here in the same way. It was also just strange because they had only been here for 5 days and staying in very very nice hotels with private drivers etc, we were just kinda looking at them like "you have no idea." We got home at 12:30 am and slept well, sleeping in for the first time since arriving in India.
Yesterday we woke up and were informed we were spending the day with the family. It was the last day of exams for Mama's granddaughter, so we picked her up, had a nice celebration coffee, a wonderful Kashmiry lunch with the family and then went to see our first Bollywood film called Delhi 6. It was a really interesting experience watching a movie without subtitles in a language we didn't understand. We got most of it and our family helped translate the parts we were confused. I actually really enjoyed it, Indian films really love to overtly play with cinematography and editing, which is fun because the narrative is really simple and remains very similar across films. We later went to an Indian barbecue at our "cousin"'s house, his name is Amrit. It was a birthday party of Amrit's friend. There were a bunch of people there, all perhaps in their late 20s. When we arrived though we were the only ones wearing traditional Indian clothes, everyone else was wearing skinny jeans and fitted tops, we felt pretty ridiculous. We explained that we were educated to ONLY wear these clothes here, they laughed out loud at us and spent a while explaining how ridiculous that was. feel like I have so much more to say about this weekend. It was just such a whirlwind to go to these smaller villages where we were constantly stared at no matter how conservatively we were dressed (which became a issue in dividing up the boys to accompany us places), then to go to this opulent wedding where these foreigners were completely overwhelmed with India and had nothing to say but complaints, to hanging out with locals and seeing the new clash with the old.
Ok enough for now, Hindi midterms coming up and going to Udaipur (city of lakes) this weekend. Love you all!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
DIE Essay
This was our first essay, fittingly called D.I.E (Describe Interpret Evaluate). That was pretty much all the instruction we got, so I did mine on my experience of tourist at the Taj Mahal.
Introduction
The Taj Mahal (also known as the Taj) is more than just a monument—it is an icon. There are many detailed publications regarding the Taj with much more information than I could adequately cover in the length of this essay. I am not an architecture scholar, and I observed the Taj without any prior historical information. I only spent approximately four hours at the Taj without a notebook—due to security—therefore this essay will provide the basic history and examine my initial observations of the Taj Mahal and its tourists. Tourists go to the Taj Mahal because it is perceived as an essential element in visiting India and a social marker of recognized “things to do before one dies.”
Brief History of the Taj Mahal
While specific dates are disputed, the following account is the basic agreed narrative of the Taj Mahal. Emperor Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal in memory of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died during the birth of their fourteenth child. Construction of the symmetrical complex began soon after her death and was completed with the help of 20,000 workers approximately twenty years later. The Taj Mahal is made primarily of white marble with inlayed semi-precious stones and sits on the Yamuna River in Agra, India. Shan Jahan planned on constructing an identical monument made of black marble across the Yamuna. However, soon after the Taj Mahal’s completion, Jahan’s son Aurangzeb usurped and imprisoned him until Jahan’s death in 1666. Jahan’s cenotaph is the only element that offsets the Taj Mahal’s symmetry, situated next to his wife’s cenotaph, which is centered under the main dome . In 1983, the Taj Mahal was named a World Heritage site.
Entering the Taj Mahal
The Taj Mahal is open from “sunrise to sunset” and two tickets are required to enter. The Agra Development Association (ADA) ticket purchased at the Taj costs Rs. 500, and provides discounts to other sights in Agra. The ticket to the Taj Mahal itself is Rs. 250, so foreigners must pay Rs. 750 altogether. However, local Indians only need to pay Rs. 20. Long-term visitors with FRRO cards will have no luck trying to get the local price here. With the entrance fee comes a free bottle of water and shoe covers, though no signs point this out and the ticket sellers do not inform visitors.
I heard that sunrise was the best time to see the Taj Mahal because there would be fewer people. I woke up at 5:30 am, checked out of my guesthouse, and arrived at the Taj’s west gate at 6:10 am to catch the 6:30 am sunrise. I was greeted by a large crowd of people—half in line at the gate and the other half in line to purchase tickets—and joined them to wait for the ticket booth to open until well after the sun had firmly established its place in the morning sky. Signs stated that no tobacco, matches, alcohol or food were allowed inside. After obtaining my tickets, I moved to another line at the red gate where men and women were separated to be searched by security. Though the men’s line was twice as long, it moved twice as fast because there were multiple male security check points whereas the women’s line only had one. Once my ticket was checked there were new signs informing visitors that in addition to the previously stated prohibited items, no books or electronic goods were allowed. As I inched closer to the Taj Mahal—hoping they might overlook my journals, iPod and various wires—I saw people turned away from the check point for chargers, books, backpacks and even a pen; it was not looking good for me. Of course I was turned away. Blue signs that said “lockers” pointed to a building with yet another line of people—on the door were handwritten signs saying “Lockers: Rs. 20. Storage: Rs. 10.” After reluctantly paying for my “free storage,” I pushed back through the crowd assuring the glaring eyes I had already been through the line. Over an hour and half after I arrived, I completed my rites of passage to view the Taj Mahal up close.
Past the red gates, the most crowded areas at the Taj Mahal were the gardens along the reflection pool in front of the tomb and inside the actual tomb. The population at the front of the Taj Mahal consisted primarily of amateur photographers and various posers. Some people stood and smiled sweetly, some made peace signs, and some tried to hold the white dome in their palm. Other people formed dams in the flow of human traffic as they posed for group photos. The sides and the back facing the Yamuna were slightly less crowded, but still consistently speckled with people.
The Taj as an Icon of India for Tourists
The relatively high admission price in comparison to other India sites discourages repeated entries and demonstrates the higher value tourists place on seeing the Taj. Higher security reflects the value to India of securing the monument as well as the high volume of people that visit everyday. Tourists view the Taj as an emblem of the country. To visit the Taj is to visit India. Tourists and people “back home” perceive visiting India as incomplete without visiting the Taj. Even at other beautiful sites such as the Agra Fort, the most crowded areas were those in which the Taj could be seen in the distance.
The Taj Mahal is understood as icon. Though I have never been formally taught anything about the Taj Mahal, I could view the detailed Taj in my mind as if I had visited it multiple times. Guidebooks market India with the Taj Mahal’s image and make statements like “who visits India without visiting the Taj?” implying that anyone who does not see the Taj while in India is an anomaly. Other quotes include “You might expect to be disappointed when coming face to face with an icon that is almost an archetype, but nothing can really prepare you for the beauty of the Taj Mahal.” enforcing its assumed majesty and debasing anyone who questions the proliferated adjectives of “ephemeral,” “beautiful,” or “magical.” The Taj Mahal’s image is firmly established in the minds of tourists due to its repeated use in advertisements, photographs, and films. The familiarity of the Taj Mahal through images makes the it an inviting place to visit for tourists dealing with culture shock in a place as unique as India.
Perhaps this assumed familiarity with the Taj Mahal is why the rites of passage to enter the complex came as a surprise. While the Taj’s image is frequently marketed, the entrance process is not. Though the ordeal of entering was not much different from any other task in India, it felt like an exhausting battle because the Taj Mahal felt like something I had a right to as a tourist. By the time I entered I was exhausted, frustrated and sweaty.
Is the Objective Taj Possible?
I believe the importance placed on the Taj Mahal by tourists is due to its global iconography—few things in this world share the Taj Mahal’s popularity with tourists. It is not difficult to understand why the Taj Mahal is seen as an emblem of architectural beauty. Given the massive amounts of precious material used, it is a standard with which anyone can understand it is valuable without understanding its complex artistry.
However, it is impossible to view solely the Taj Mahal due to all the constant tourists. The floating dots in the distance and people snapping photographs are part of the monument, for it is hopeless to expect to view the Taj Mahal without the crowds. Furthermore, due to it iconographic status, it is very difficult to see the Taj Mahal with fresh eyes and to observe its qualities without attaching the established flattering adjectives automatically. When one goes to see the Taj, one has in fact already seen it countless times.
The expectations brought by tourists to the Taj Mahal diminished my experience. Either by feeling entitled to the comfortable familiarity of the Taj Mahal or expecting to be blown away by its beauty, the experience of visiting the Taj Mahal does not always add up to the guidebooks. As a result of the Taj’s hype and popular image, there is immense bandwagon pressure to agree with the perception of the Taj as “amazing.” Though I enjoyed the visual aesthetics of the Taj immensely, a part of me felt disappointed because the experience was built up so much that nothing could fulfill my expectations. I also felt guilty to admit my discontent because of the collective social agreement of its splendor. I suspect that if I was not exposed to the prescribed expectations of the Taj I would have in fact felt all the “majesty” touted without the complex guilt.
People want to visit the Taj Mahal because it is a valuable social marker to a tourist. It is a relatable experience to the tourist’s community back home and an established symbol of visiting the “beauty” of India. The image is so common that the Taj is most likely already seen without ever visiting India. Even so, tourists gladly pay the expensive admission, wait in long lines and struggle with other tourists attempting to snap the same picture in order to physically be in the Taj’s presence.
Conclusion
The Taj Mahal’s basic history reinforces the tourist’s understanding of it as being a magical element in a royal fairy tale. While its value can be easily understood in terms of material used, its value is greatly heightened by repeated use of its imagery, its emblematic status, its marketing and its status among social groups. So was the Taj worth going to? Definitely, but mostly because I wanted to say I went to see the Taj Mahal.
Introduction
The Taj Mahal (also known as the Taj) is more than just a monument—it is an icon. There are many detailed publications regarding the Taj with much more information than I could adequately cover in the length of this essay. I am not an architecture scholar, and I observed the Taj without any prior historical information. I only spent approximately four hours at the Taj without a notebook—due to security—therefore this essay will provide the basic history and examine my initial observations of the Taj Mahal and its tourists. Tourists go to the Taj Mahal because it is perceived as an essential element in visiting India and a social marker of recognized “things to do before one dies.”
Brief History of the Taj Mahal
While specific dates are disputed, the following account is the basic agreed narrative of the Taj Mahal. Emperor Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal in memory of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died during the birth of their fourteenth child. Construction of the symmetrical complex began soon after her death and was completed with the help of 20,000 workers approximately twenty years later. The Taj Mahal is made primarily of white marble with inlayed semi-precious stones and sits on the Yamuna River in Agra, India. Shan Jahan planned on constructing an identical monument made of black marble across the Yamuna. However, soon after the Taj Mahal’s completion, Jahan’s son Aurangzeb usurped and imprisoned him until Jahan’s death in 1666. Jahan’s cenotaph is the only element that offsets the Taj Mahal’s symmetry, situated next to his wife’s cenotaph, which is centered under the main dome . In 1983, the Taj Mahal was named a World Heritage site.
Entering the Taj Mahal
The Taj Mahal is open from “sunrise to sunset” and two tickets are required to enter. The Agra Development Association (ADA) ticket purchased at the Taj costs Rs. 500, and provides discounts to other sights in Agra. The ticket to the Taj Mahal itself is Rs. 250, so foreigners must pay Rs. 750 altogether. However, local Indians only need to pay Rs. 20. Long-term visitors with FRRO cards will have no luck trying to get the local price here. With the entrance fee comes a free bottle of water and shoe covers, though no signs point this out and the ticket sellers do not inform visitors.
I heard that sunrise was the best time to see the Taj Mahal because there would be fewer people. I woke up at 5:30 am, checked out of my guesthouse, and arrived at the Taj’s west gate at 6:10 am to catch the 6:30 am sunrise. I was greeted by a large crowd of people—half in line at the gate and the other half in line to purchase tickets—and joined them to wait for the ticket booth to open until well after the sun had firmly established its place in the morning sky. Signs stated that no tobacco, matches, alcohol or food were allowed inside. After obtaining my tickets, I moved to another line at the red gate where men and women were separated to be searched by security. Though the men’s line was twice as long, it moved twice as fast because there were multiple male security check points whereas the women’s line only had one. Once my ticket was checked there were new signs informing visitors that in addition to the previously stated prohibited items, no books or electronic goods were allowed. As I inched closer to the Taj Mahal—hoping they might overlook my journals, iPod and various wires—I saw people turned away from the check point for chargers, books, backpacks and even a pen; it was not looking good for me. Of course I was turned away. Blue signs that said “lockers” pointed to a building with yet another line of people—on the door were handwritten signs saying “Lockers: Rs. 20. Storage: Rs. 10.” After reluctantly paying for my “free storage,” I pushed back through the crowd assuring the glaring eyes I had already been through the line. Over an hour and half after I arrived, I completed my rites of passage to view the Taj Mahal up close.
Past the red gates, the most crowded areas at the Taj Mahal were the gardens along the reflection pool in front of the tomb and inside the actual tomb. The population at the front of the Taj Mahal consisted primarily of amateur photographers and various posers. Some people stood and smiled sweetly, some made peace signs, and some tried to hold the white dome in their palm. Other people formed dams in the flow of human traffic as they posed for group photos. The sides and the back facing the Yamuna were slightly less crowded, but still consistently speckled with people.
The Taj as an Icon of India for Tourists
The relatively high admission price in comparison to other India sites discourages repeated entries and demonstrates the higher value tourists place on seeing the Taj. Higher security reflects the value to India of securing the monument as well as the high volume of people that visit everyday. Tourists view the Taj as an emblem of the country. To visit the Taj is to visit India. Tourists and people “back home” perceive visiting India as incomplete without visiting the Taj. Even at other beautiful sites such as the Agra Fort, the most crowded areas were those in which the Taj could be seen in the distance.
The Taj Mahal is understood as icon. Though I have never been formally taught anything about the Taj Mahal, I could view the detailed Taj in my mind as if I had visited it multiple times. Guidebooks market India with the Taj Mahal’s image and make statements like “who visits India without visiting the Taj?” implying that anyone who does not see the Taj while in India is an anomaly. Other quotes include “You might expect to be disappointed when coming face to face with an icon that is almost an archetype, but nothing can really prepare you for the beauty of the Taj Mahal.” enforcing its assumed majesty and debasing anyone who questions the proliferated adjectives of “ephemeral,” “beautiful,” or “magical.” The Taj Mahal’s image is firmly established in the minds of tourists due to its repeated use in advertisements, photographs, and films. The familiarity of the Taj Mahal through images makes the it an inviting place to visit for tourists dealing with culture shock in a place as unique as India.
Perhaps this assumed familiarity with the Taj Mahal is why the rites of passage to enter the complex came as a surprise. While the Taj’s image is frequently marketed, the entrance process is not. Though the ordeal of entering was not much different from any other task in India, it felt like an exhausting battle because the Taj Mahal felt like something I had a right to as a tourist. By the time I entered I was exhausted, frustrated and sweaty.
Is the Objective Taj Possible?
I believe the importance placed on the Taj Mahal by tourists is due to its global iconography—few things in this world share the Taj Mahal’s popularity with tourists. It is not difficult to understand why the Taj Mahal is seen as an emblem of architectural beauty. Given the massive amounts of precious material used, it is a standard with which anyone can understand it is valuable without understanding its complex artistry.
However, it is impossible to view solely the Taj Mahal due to all the constant tourists. The floating dots in the distance and people snapping photographs are part of the monument, for it is hopeless to expect to view the Taj Mahal without the crowds. Furthermore, due to it iconographic status, it is very difficult to see the Taj Mahal with fresh eyes and to observe its qualities without attaching the established flattering adjectives automatically. When one goes to see the Taj, one has in fact already seen it countless times.
The expectations brought by tourists to the Taj Mahal diminished my experience. Either by feeling entitled to the comfortable familiarity of the Taj Mahal or expecting to be blown away by its beauty, the experience of visiting the Taj Mahal does not always add up to the guidebooks. As a result of the Taj’s hype and popular image, there is immense bandwagon pressure to agree with the perception of the Taj as “amazing.” Though I enjoyed the visual aesthetics of the Taj immensely, a part of me felt disappointed because the experience was built up so much that nothing could fulfill my expectations. I also felt guilty to admit my discontent because of the collective social agreement of its splendor. I suspect that if I was not exposed to the prescribed expectations of the Taj I would have in fact felt all the “majesty” touted without the complex guilt.
People want to visit the Taj Mahal because it is a valuable social marker to a tourist. It is a relatable experience to the tourist’s community back home and an established symbol of visiting the “beauty” of India. The image is so common that the Taj is most likely already seen without ever visiting India. Even so, tourists gladly pay the expensive admission, wait in long lines and struggle with other tourists attempting to snap the same picture in order to physically be in the Taj’s presence.
Conclusion
The Taj Mahal’s basic history reinforces the tourist’s understanding of it as being a magical element in a royal fairy tale. While its value can be easily understood in terms of material used, its value is greatly heightened by repeated use of its imagery, its emblematic status, its marketing and its status among social groups. So was the Taj worth going to? Definitely, but mostly because I wanted to say I went to see the Taj Mahal.
The Taj, Mathura, trains and more traveling
Another exciting and eventful week. So last Friday was my first cooking class where I learned homestyle North Indian cooking. We learned about eight recipes of which I can't wait to cook for you! Today we will learn South Indian cooking which is also really yummy and I have never cooked before. Last Friday evening was Rachel's birthday, so we went to an American Diner to have drinks and dinner.
Saturday morning we woke up early to catch a train to Agra. We had a very nice sleeper car on the way there with open windows. While it was a nice car and we were on our way to see the emblem of beauty, we passed two hours of slums. When we arrived in Agra we checked into our very nice hotel, got some lunch and decided to make our way to Mathura, the birthplace of Krishna. We made our way to the bus station, but of course there were no signs letting us know which bus was going to Mathura. We asked at least five times which bus went to Mathura, but each time we went to the bus we were directed to, the bus driver informed us that they weren't going to Mathura. Right as we were about give up I decided to ask one more bus driver who said "yes, Mathura." We piled in the bus and anxiously asked if this in fact was the bus to Mathura. Six boys were telling us that the bus was going to Fatepur Sikri instead. After a bit of arguing, the boys got up to ask the driver and started to walk off the bus. They were on the wrong bus! We felt so proud of ourselves in figuring out how to get where we wanted despite the language barriers. This is struck me as really comforting actually. In India I have been continually reminded that the difficulties one confronts in India is not reserved for tourists alone, Indians have just as many difficulties negotiating as we do. The Indian staff at SIT constantly complain about Rickshaw drivers, and rickshaw stories seem to have replaced the drunken stories the group shares in the morning. After about an hour we passed a sign that said "Mathura" pointing away from where the bus was going. People in the group were convinced we were heading back to Delhi, but fortunately we arrived at a bus station. We were going to go to Vrindavan, but on the way we realized it was too far away and decided to stay in Mathura and go to Vishram Ghats. We made our way to a lovely temple where Krishna is said to have rested after slaying a demon. The temple is on the Yamuna river, and there are steps leading down to the river where people send candles in offerings down the river. We then took a lovely boat ride up and down the river. At the end of the boat ride we saw a ceremony from the river where some priest held a bowl of fire in the middle of a group of people chanting and clapping. The energy swelled as we all sat in awe and silence, and as soon as it was over it dropped and everyone dispersed. It was such a magical moment. On the way back, all seven of us piled into a rickshaw (which normally seats three uncomfortably), and five minutes later the rickshaw got a flat tire. We all promptly rushed out and fled the scene. Making it to the train station we bought tickets, asked many times which was our right train and car. Fifty minutes into our 60 minute train ride a conductor came to collect our tickets and informed us that we were in the wrong car. He asked us to pay 100 rupees extra each, I protested and told him we would just move to the other lower class car, and then three large men with large rifles came hovering over us. We all took out our wallets and paid the difference, made it home by 12:30 and fell asleep promptly in anticipation for our sunrise meeting with the Taj Mahal.
In the morning we woke up at 5:30 to see the Taj at sunrise, what we had heard was the best time. In short, there was a long frusterating process to get into the Taj that I will spare you, but it involved being shocked to find out that along with food, matches, tobacco alchol being prohibited, so were books and any sort of electronics (besides a camera). Since we had checked out of our hotel, this was a problem. I wrote an essay on the ordeal which I will post on my blog if interested. The Taj was indeed beautifully stunning, though it was really strange to face this icon I am so familiar with. I found myself feeling overwhelmed with anxiety and homesickness there, I am still not sure why. I have been explaining it to myself that I do not know the group well yet, and while I am enjoying them, at an icon such as the Taj I really wanted to SHARE it with you, the people I love. Anyways, after we had a yummy and really cheap lunch which we returned to for dinner, thanks to lonely planet, and squeezed NINE people in a tiny trike/rickshaw, we have gotten pretty good at doing the clown car thing to save money. We went to agra fort which was also beautiful, though the most crowded areas were the places where you could see the Taj in the distance. The train ride back was the last test. We were in a general seating car with reserved seats. However when we arrived, our (three of us who were sharing a bench/seat) seat was occupied by a woman with three children under the age of 3. The aisles were incredibly crowded, there was no room for us to stand with our bags, so we told her that these were our seats. She got up and wanderded a bit, and eventually the children were being crushed under the large masses of people. We each offered to hold a child in our lap until the whole thing got settled, so we sat in a crowded train with people hanging over us, with three babies on our laps for over an hour until who I assume was her husband found her another seat. During this time we also got "blessed" by a passing Eunch who was rather upset we didn't pay her. Exhausted once again, we got home and fell asleep, only to get up for yoga at 6 am the next day at school.
School has been surprisingly difficult, I am still working on not letting it get to me, and I am getting there. I started Bharatnatyam classes on Monday with a man named Shantanu. He is a really good teacher and I am glad I am keeping up with my practice. Yesterday we went shopping for Saris with our homestay mother, it was a lot of fun. Mama made sure that we weren't overcharged and bargined for us which took so much of the stress out of it. We were simply shown color after color to our liking and then stood back and paid. For a full new outfit including Sari, new shoes, matching tika, bangles (3 dozen!), earings, pettiecoat, hand-made tailors blouse, and bindi, I paid about $33. I chose a really nice sheer black Sari with a deep red border/ embrodered gold detail, Wes colors! I am excited to wear the full thing and I will take lots of pictures I promise. Katherine got a really nice green one. Tomorrow we start another long adventure, we go to Gwalior, Orrcha, Khajuraho, and the Tiger Sanctuary! Then we take an overnight train back to Delhi, and in the morning we need to get all hennaed up and get ready for the wedding in the evening.
I am sorry this is the bare bones of description. Internet is very spotty here and the time seems to disappear quickly with all the work. It will likely not be until I get back from next week's excursion until my next e-mail, but to hold you over till then is this long post, my essay and more pictures added to at
http://picasaweb.google.co.in/midnightdiamond/MySemesterInTheLandOfDjinns#
Much love to you all, homesickness is setting in. I love you and miss you all.
Saturday morning we woke up early to catch a train to Agra. We had a very nice sleeper car on the way there with open windows. While it was a nice car and we were on our way to see the emblem of beauty, we passed two hours of slums. When we arrived in Agra we checked into our very nice hotel, got some lunch and decided to make our way to Mathura, the birthplace of Krishna. We made our way to the bus station, but of course there were no signs letting us know which bus was going to Mathura. We asked at least five times which bus went to Mathura, but each time we went to the bus we were directed to, the bus driver informed us that they weren't going to Mathura. Right as we were about give up I decided to ask one more bus driver who said "yes, Mathura." We piled in the bus and anxiously asked if this in fact was the bus to Mathura. Six boys were telling us that the bus was going to Fatepur Sikri instead. After a bit of arguing, the boys got up to ask the driver and started to walk off the bus. They were on the wrong bus! We felt so proud of ourselves in figuring out how to get where we wanted despite the language barriers. This is struck me as really comforting actually. In India I have been continually reminded that the difficulties one confronts in India is not reserved for tourists alone, Indians have just as many difficulties negotiating as we do. The Indian staff at SIT constantly complain about Rickshaw drivers, and rickshaw stories seem to have replaced the drunken stories the group shares in the morning. After about an hour we passed a sign that said "Mathura" pointing away from where the bus was going. People in the group were convinced we were heading back to Delhi, but fortunately we arrived at a bus station. We were going to go to Vrindavan, but on the way we realized it was too far away and decided to stay in Mathura and go to Vishram Ghats. We made our way to a lovely temple where Krishna is said to have rested after slaying a demon. The temple is on the Yamuna river, and there are steps leading down to the river where people send candles in offerings down the river. We then took a lovely boat ride up and down the river. At the end of the boat ride we saw a ceremony from the river where some priest held a bowl of fire in the middle of a group of people chanting and clapping. The energy swelled as we all sat in awe and silence, and as soon as it was over it dropped and everyone dispersed. It was such a magical moment. On the way back, all seven of us piled into a rickshaw (which normally seats three uncomfortably), and five minutes later the rickshaw got a flat tire. We all promptly rushed out and fled the scene. Making it to the train station we bought tickets, asked many times which was our right train and car. Fifty minutes into our 60 minute train ride a conductor came to collect our tickets and informed us that we were in the wrong car. He asked us to pay 100 rupees extra each, I protested and told him we would just move to the other lower class car, and then three large men with large rifles came hovering over us. We all took out our wallets and paid the difference, made it home by 12:30 and fell asleep promptly in anticipation for our sunrise meeting with the Taj Mahal.
In the morning we woke up at 5:30 to see the Taj at sunrise, what we had heard was the best time. In short, there was a long frusterating process to get into the Taj that I will spare you, but it involved being shocked to find out that along with food, matches, tobacco alchol being prohibited, so were books and any sort of electronics (besides a camera). Since we had checked out of our hotel, this was a problem. I wrote an essay on the ordeal which I will post on my blog if interested. The Taj was indeed beautifully stunning, though it was really strange to face this icon I am so familiar with. I found myself feeling overwhelmed with anxiety and homesickness there, I am still not sure why. I have been explaining it to myself that I do not know the group well yet, and while I am enjoying them, at an icon such as the Taj I really wanted to SHARE it with you, the people I love. Anyways, after we had a yummy and really cheap lunch which we returned to for dinner, thanks to lonely planet, and squeezed NINE people in a tiny trike/rickshaw, we have gotten pretty good at doing the clown car thing to save money. We went to agra fort which was also beautiful, though the most crowded areas were the places where you could see the Taj in the distance. The train ride back was the last test. We were in a general seating car with reserved seats. However when we arrived, our (three of us who were sharing a bench/seat) seat was occupied by a woman with three children under the age of 3. The aisles were incredibly crowded, there was no room for us to stand with our bags, so we told her that these were our seats. She got up and wanderded a bit, and eventually the children were being crushed under the large masses of people. We each offered to hold a child in our lap until the whole thing got settled, so we sat in a crowded train with people hanging over us, with three babies on our laps for over an hour until who I assume was her husband found her another seat. During this time we also got "blessed" by a passing Eunch who was rather upset we didn't pay her. Exhausted once again, we got home and fell asleep, only to get up for yoga at 6 am the next day at school.
School has been surprisingly difficult, I am still working on not letting it get to me, and I am getting there. I started Bharatnatyam classes on Monday with a man named Shantanu. He is a really good teacher and I am glad I am keeping up with my practice. Yesterday we went shopping for Saris with our homestay mother, it was a lot of fun. Mama made sure that we weren't overcharged and bargined for us which took so much of the stress out of it. We were simply shown color after color to our liking and then stood back and paid. For a full new outfit including Sari, new shoes, matching tika, bangles (3 dozen!), earings, pettiecoat, hand-made tailors blouse, and bindi, I paid about $33. I chose a really nice sheer black Sari with a deep red border/ embrodered gold detail, Wes colors! I am excited to wear the full thing and I will take lots of pictures I promise. Katherine got a really nice green one. Tomorrow we start another long adventure, we go to Gwalior, Orrcha, Khajuraho, and the Tiger Sanctuary! Then we take an overnight train back to Delhi, and in the morning we need to get all hennaed up and get ready for the wedding in the evening.
I am sorry this is the bare bones of description. Internet is very spotty here and the time seems to disappear quickly with all the work. It will likely not be until I get back from next week's excursion until my next e-mail, but to hold you over till then is this long post, my essay and more pictures added to at
http://picasaweb.google.co.in/midnightdiamond/MySemesterInTheLandOfDjinns#
Much love to you all, homesickness is setting in. I love you and miss you all.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Reflections
Our academic director (Storm-Ji) keeps telling us that the highs are higher and the lows are lower in India. I have to to admit that I have pretty much just been enjoying the highs of stimulation as a result of India herself. I think a lot of this is due to the very privileged upper-class experience I am getting. Everyday I take taxis (rickshaws) and not public transportation. We are staying with upper/ middle class families and rather sheltered from the difficult logistics. I feel at times I am not seeing the "real India," like I am not really making any Indian friends or doing anything other than what a privileged upper-class Indian would do. I suppose this is the program I signed up for, and I am enjoying it immensely. I suppose I am just trying to be aware of the conditions of which I am enjoying myself and how that might be coloring my perception of India. The moments which have been challenging have been familiar difficulties, such as being over charged, trying to make friends and being concerned with academics.
Being overcharged comes with being a tourist and becomes easier as I learn what correct prices are (though money always makes me nervous). I am making friends and feeling more included in the group. I made a last second decision to not go to Jaipur and instead go with everyone else to Agra to see the grand Taj Mahal. I decided that I would feel like an idiot if I didn't see the Taj after coming all the way to India, it is close to the full moon, it seemed fitting to go to the monument of love on Valentines Day, it is a friend's birthday today and I wanted to make sure I was there to celebrate, Agra is a much shorter journey than Jaipur from Delhi, there wasn't much in Jaipur itself besides an exorcism temple that really excited me, just a lot of shopping...and well in short it just felt intuitively much better to go to Agra than Jaipur. We will be leaving Saturday morning and then coming back Sunday evening.
So classes have started, and as usual I am insecure about them. I feel like I finally got to the place of feeling comfortable with Wesleyan Academics, I know how it works there and what to expect and how to manage myself. However this is a whole new set of standards (rather high actually), and criteria. I am trying to remind myself of all my friend's advice, to enjoy the place and not be concerned about work. However I find myself spending from 5-11:30 every night doing homework and still feeling rather dumb in class. Perhaps this will change, I hope so. If not, I realized that this will be the shortest academic semester ever. We JUST started classes on Tuesday, and we are done with finals on April 4th. Then we have 1 month to write 1 20 page paper. We have about 2 full weeks of excursions and one week of exams which leaves only about four weeks of classes left as of today...whoa...
I have my ISP ideas narrowed down to two: Tara and Gangotri pilgrimage. Tara would be an interesting self exploration since I could compare the compassionate Buddhist Tara and the Hindu Tara which is closer to Kali. However as of this very moment (and it changes about every 10 seconds), I am leaning towards Gangotri. I am thinking about researching the myths that take place along this pilgrimage and how they manifest in the location themselves. For example Ganesha was born in Doti Tal, the Pandavas with Draupadi followed this same route at the end of the Mahabharata for salvation, Hanuman came to a certain spot looking for the herbs to revive Rama, and in another town Ganga drowned her first seven children until her 8th she let live and he grew up to be Bhishma of the Mahabharata. I want to see how these sites acknowledge their mythic location. Is there a sign saying "this is where this happened"? Are there temples? Pieces of art that tell the story? Does the story rest only in the villagers or pilgrims minds? We'll see if this fascination stays. While many other ideas are still very interesting to me, I have to admit the idea of getting nice and fit by hiking a trek is rather appealing after eating all this amazing food all the time.
I found a Bharatnatyam teacher who is a Nationally renowned dancer. I start classes with him on Monday and I'm really excited. Yesterday Kathrine and I met Mama's nephew, and he invited us to a wedding!!! Many of our classmates are going to weddings (it is wedding season right now), and so we got sooooo excited! Next week when we get back from Agra we will be buying Saris with matching bangles, shoes and jewelry, as well as getting henna tattoos on our hands in preparation. I will be quite a hectic end of Feb. Next week we have classes again, but the week after we go to Gwalior and Orrcha to see the magnificent forts, then Khajuraho to see the temples with all the kama-sutra carvings on them and learn about tantraism. Then we go to Bandhvgarh to see the tigers! We come back on an overnight train and arrive on Feb 27th and then spend the day getting ready for the wedding!
I guess things are becoming even more normalized so there is less to report. Here are some little tidbits though. Soha (the servant in our homestay) is a really beautiful girl from Darjeeling. She is also a fantastic cook, her food is light and bursting with flavor, I keep saying I want to learn but I keep doing homework instead...this should change. She also always has the most amazing smile on her face. I realized that i really like that it is just gals living in this apartment. We spent so much time in orientation learning about cultural norms and formalities, and I feel a lot isn't applicable when there are no men present, It makes a much more comfortable and relaxing home environment. Outside however there is a man that yells periodically all afternoon. From the best Katherine and I can figure out is he goes around the neighborhood selling something, however we have never seen this guy nor been able to decipher what he is yelling, we just seem to chuckle whenever we hear him now. One strange observation...everyone's snot here is black, this is how much pollution we are constantly breathing, another reason I want to escape to the mountains for the ISP. I have just been so busy these days that I find myself just wanting to sit and do nothing, but there is just so much to do.
Thank you all for replying to me. I really do miss you, that has been far been the lowest low, not being able to regularly communicate with you. While this is an amazing experience thus far, nothing replaces spending time with you. I love hearing what you are all up to, from eating a yummy snack to watching a good movie or anything!
Much love always
Being overcharged comes with being a tourist and becomes easier as I learn what correct prices are (though money always makes me nervous). I am making friends and feeling more included in the group. I made a last second decision to not go to Jaipur and instead go with everyone else to Agra to see the grand Taj Mahal. I decided that I would feel like an idiot if I didn't see the Taj after coming all the way to India, it is close to the full moon, it seemed fitting to go to the monument of love on Valentines Day, it is a friend's birthday today and I wanted to make sure I was there to celebrate, Agra is a much shorter journey than Jaipur from Delhi, there wasn't much in Jaipur itself besides an exorcism temple that really excited me, just a lot of shopping...and well in short it just felt intuitively much better to go to Agra than Jaipur. We will be leaving Saturday morning and then coming back Sunday evening.
So classes have started, and as usual I am insecure about them. I feel like I finally got to the place of feeling comfortable with Wesleyan Academics, I know how it works there and what to expect and how to manage myself. However this is a whole new set of standards (rather high actually), and criteria. I am trying to remind myself of all my friend's advice, to enjoy the place and not be concerned about work. However I find myself spending from 5-11:30 every night doing homework and still feeling rather dumb in class. Perhaps this will change, I hope so. If not, I realized that this will be the shortest academic semester ever. We JUST started classes on Tuesday, and we are done with finals on April 4th. Then we have 1 month to write 1 20 page paper. We have about 2 full weeks of excursions and one week of exams which leaves only about four weeks of classes left as of today...whoa...
I have my ISP ideas narrowed down to two: Tara and Gangotri pilgrimage. Tara would be an interesting self exploration since I could compare the compassionate Buddhist Tara and the Hindu Tara which is closer to Kali. However as of this very moment (and it changes about every 10 seconds), I am leaning towards Gangotri. I am thinking about researching the myths that take place along this pilgrimage and how they manifest in the location themselves. For example Ganesha was born in Doti Tal, the Pandavas with Draupadi followed this same route at the end of the Mahabharata for salvation, Hanuman came to a certain spot looking for the herbs to revive Rama, and in another town Ganga drowned her first seven children until her 8th she let live and he grew up to be Bhishma of the Mahabharata. I want to see how these sites acknowledge their mythic location. Is there a sign saying "this is where this happened"? Are there temples? Pieces of art that tell the story? Does the story rest only in the villagers or pilgrims minds? We'll see if this fascination stays. While many other ideas are still very interesting to me, I have to admit the idea of getting nice and fit by hiking a trek is rather appealing after eating all this amazing food all the time.
I found a Bharatnatyam teacher who is a Nationally renowned dancer. I start classes with him on Monday and I'm really excited. Yesterday Kathrine and I met Mama's nephew, and he invited us to a wedding!!! Many of our classmates are going to weddings (it is wedding season right now), and so we got sooooo excited! Next week when we get back from Agra we will be buying Saris with matching bangles, shoes and jewelry, as well as getting henna tattoos on our hands in preparation. I will be quite a hectic end of Feb. Next week we have classes again, but the week after we go to Gwalior and Orrcha to see the magnificent forts, then Khajuraho to see the temples with all the kama-sutra carvings on them and learn about tantraism. Then we go to Bandhvgarh to see the tigers! We come back on an overnight train and arrive on Feb 27th and then spend the day getting ready for the wedding!
I guess things are becoming even more normalized so there is less to report. Here are some little tidbits though. Soha (the servant in our homestay) is a really beautiful girl from Darjeeling. She is also a fantastic cook, her food is light and bursting with flavor, I keep saying I want to learn but I keep doing homework instead...this should change. She also always has the most amazing smile on her face. I realized that i really like that it is just gals living in this apartment. We spent so much time in orientation learning about cultural norms and formalities, and I feel a lot isn't applicable when there are no men present, It makes a much more comfortable and relaxing home environment. Outside however there is a man that yells periodically all afternoon. From the best Katherine and I can figure out is he goes around the neighborhood selling something, however we have never seen this guy nor been able to decipher what he is yelling, we just seem to chuckle whenever we hear him now. One strange observation...everyone's snot here is black, this is how much pollution we are constantly breathing, another reason I want to escape to the mountains for the ISP. I have just been so busy these days that I find myself just wanting to sit and do nothing, but there is just so much to do.
Thank you all for replying to me. I really do miss you, that has been far been the lowest low, not being able to regularly communicate with you. While this is an amazing experience thus far, nothing replaces spending time with you. I love hearing what you are all up to, from eating a yummy snack to watching a good movie or anything!
Much love always
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