The train came at 5 or 6 pm - I can't remember which - and I quickly found my seat in my car. There were already lots of people in the car as I got on at the train's second stop. I sat down next to an older couple with another woman in her 40s and two children - a boy and girl. This ride back to Mumbai was less comfortable as I was pretty sunburned at this point and feeling exhausted. I was so drained I couldn't really concentrate on anything - food vendors came back and forth offering various items I didn't recognize the names of so I didn't get anything except some chai. The family in my area pulled out a large bag of food and an aunt kept coming over from another area with food for the kids. I wasn't very hungry, but thought I should eat something. Finally, the man and woman across from me must have noticed my confusion or lack of initiative in getting some food from the passing vendors (I was pretty pathetic at this point - sunburned, unshowered, wearing an old, dirty shirt and still shedding sand from my Tevas), and leaned forward and asked me if I liked spicy food. I said yes, I did, and before I knew what was happening, the woman next to me was tearing a piece of newspaper and setting it in my lap while the woman across from me handed me three chapatis. Then the woman next to me scooped some potato and onion curry on the top chapati and the woman across gave me some spicy meat dish. It was a humbling experience - I thanked them and sat with my left hand in my lap while I ate with my right - the food was amazing, spicy, and filling. After I finished, the woman gave me an Indian sweet. I then climbed to my upper berth and decided to get some shut-eye. Luckily, I didn't get sick on this ride and the trip went much quicker.
I slept off and on all night until about 5am. The weather was warm and rainy. By six, most of my travel companions had gotten off on the outskirts of Mumbai - it was just an old guy and I in my section. At this point a couple of men that I can only describe as Hindu transvestites came on board. They were obviously men, but were wearing saris and makeup and jewelry - they came from passenger to passenger holding out their hands for money. The old man next to me gave them a few coins. Then one of them came to me and started speaking in an Indian language. I kept saying I couldn't understand what he was saying - as he couldn't speak English, we just stared at each other. Then he said a few more words and put his hand on my head and left. I don't know if he was blessing or cursing me, but it was strange to say the least. I later read in my Lonely Planet guide that this group of people are called Hijras. According to LP, "they are a caste of transvestites and eunuchs who dress in women's clothing. Some are gay, some are hermaphrodites, and some were unfortunate enough to be kidnapped and castrated...They work mainly as uninvited entertainers at weddings and celebrations of the birth of male children, and as prostitutes." As I consider this strange turn of events now, I think he was giving some sort of blessing, because the tone of his voice had more of an "I'm blessing you" sort of sound rather than a "Curséd be the day of your birth, you miserable tourist" sort of sound.
Well, by 6:30 I arrived at Mumbai's central train station. I was glad to be back, but kind of bummed too because check-in at my hotel wasn't until noon. So I went over there anyway to drop off my luggage and then find a coffee shop or some place to eat some breakfast. When I got to the hotel, I talked to the clerk about arranging transportation to the airport on Tuesday morning - it would be Independence Day in India on the day I flew out and I knew security would be high in all the major cities. Also, after what had happened in the UK, I thought it would be better to give myself some extra time. The man secured an airport taxi for me and even let me check into my room early. I dragged my stuff up to the second floor, took a shower, and crashed. When I woke up, I was pretty hungry so I ate breakfast down in the hotel restaurant and watched a bunch of wet-headed French tourists sip their tea, read the paper and wake up.
After my breakfast, I wandered about a bit - these last couple of days in Mumbai were structureless and relaxed. I looked at some bookstores, had a great lunch of these grilled chicken kebobs, and had some gelato (pear, I think). I looked around at some great street markets in Colaba (I think - I'm continuing this entry from my brother's apartment in Tokyo and don't have the LP handy).
On Monday, I was planning to take a ferry out to Elephanta Island - an island which has all sorts of statues and monuments - to Ganesh, I think - but it was closed on Mondays so I had to scrap that idea. Instead, I took a walking tour that was suggested in LP. It took you past many of the nicer historic buildings in the Fort and Colaba areas. At one point I ducked into a library that LP said had a great balcony where you could sit on a comfy chair and relax. I tried this, LP writers, and I got kicked out for not being a patron. This was the only time LP's information let me down. Later, I walked by the large field outside of the university and watched kids playing soccer and cricket. It had been raining in the morning, so all the players were covered from head to toe in mud - I got some great pictures I will share from watching this. Then I stopped by a tea shop and bought a couple types of spiced green teas - very nice. Then I went to the Bombay Store to get some gifts for co-workers and such. That night I ate dosas at the small restaurant across from my hotel and then ducked into an Internet cafe where I Skyped my folks to see how they were. Apparently, I sounded pretty drained - my mom and dad both commented on it. Yeah, travelling through India is not a relaxing trip.
On Tuesday, I woke up early, ate at the hotel, and tried to figure out the best way to fit everything into my backpack and uh, other bag ***Kristin, what do I call it if I can't call it a fanny pack?*** Big thanks to Stacy again for supplying me with two great travel bags. I was a little sad to be leaving India - the trip was too short and I knew that teaching would seem a bit samey after all of my adventures. At 10:00 my taxi came and the last images I saw of India from the car were children weaving in and out of the traffic selling Indian flags to drivers.
Showing posts with label Transportation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Transportation. Show all posts
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
What it's Like to Ride in a Bicycle Rickshaw to the Taj Mahal
I am having trouble with my browser at the moment and it keeps quitting when I try to upload pictures to Blogger, so I will instead show you this very short film I took in Agra so you can see and hear what the traffic is like in India. Enjoy:
Saturday, August 19, 2006
India - The Third Installment
Well, I typed and typed and lost it all when I accidentally navigated away from this page. Then I realized that about 50% of it was probably too boring to publish anyway so then I didn't feel so bad. But then I was just getting to a good part so I did feel bad again - and my fingers are tired.
So, anyway, I started by talking about this cool garden I'd forgotten to mention when I was writing about Delhi - I went there on the day after I went to Agra and it was called Lodi Garden. It is very cool and contains some 15th and 16th century ruins of tombs. The setting of the ruins in the park is great - nice contrasts between the crumbling structures and the wild growth of trees and bushes. You'll see what I mean when I post pictures.
Ok, so day two of Mumbai was a wandering sort of day through the Colaba district of the city - this is where the Gateway to India is. There were a few ships in the harbor and lots of people milling around. Then I got my first taste of monsoon weather. I was looking at street vendors' wares and was dry and five seconds later there was a downpour and I was soaked - the rain felt great, but getting soaked while wearing jeans did not. I ducked into a coffee shop to dry off and then went to a cd shop where I bought a $6.00 copy of "Crash" which I imagine is supposed to be in color, but not in my pirated version.
I was also biding my time a bit because I was waiting to hear about my train ticket to Goa. I found out that to take the night train, you really should book the ticket two days in advance. So I got Agnelo, the hotel clerk to take care of it for me. He told me I needed to give him a few extra rupies so he could bribe the ticket guy. I'm not sure if he actually did this, or said it so that he could make a few rupies, but I gave him the money because it sounded shady and cool. I'd already checked out of the hotel but was keeping my luggage there until I had to catch my train at 11pm. I ate at a really good restaurant called Samrat and ate far too much butter naan and rich desserts than was good for me. Later in the day I picked up my ticket from Agnelo for a second class reserved sleeping berth on the night train to Goa. After spending the day walking around the area between the train station and my hotel, I got used to being approached by vendors right and left and got pretty good at ignoring people who were just wanting to sell me things or get me to take their taxis.
I headed over to the train station at 10pm so I could get an idea of the platform I had to leave from and make sure where everything was. The train arrived by 10:30 and I walked and walked until I found my car. When I got on I was a bit nervous - I had heard that the trains could be a bit dodgy and that you had to watch your luggage closely. Luckily I got a lower berth across from an older gentleman named Narayan - he was a semi-retired postal worker heading down to Goa and - as luck would have it - to the same stop that I was getting off at. Soon we were joined by some 40-something guys traveling together. Second class carriages in India are nothing like any train I have ever been on before. you sit six in an area and then there is an upper, middle and lower berth on each side. There are fans on the ceiling to keep you cool at night, but the trains are in poor shape and offer little comfort. I bundled up my backpack for a pillow, tied a handkerchief around my head, put in my headphones - mostly to keep small bugs from getting in my ears (they may have been cockroaches). I was pretty tired and slept well until I woke up in the middle of the night with a bit of a stomach cramp - I remembered then that the iced coffee I'd drunk earlier may not have had clean ice in it. I took some medicine, but still needed to head to the bathroom - i.e. hole in the floor with treads on either side (glad to have had toilet paper with me - and Purell).
I woke up super early and had some chai that a food service guy came by with - Rs.2 (this amount increased significantly on my train ride back to Mumbai two days later). The rest of the train ride was eternal but I finally reached Tivim(my stop)at around 12:30 and took a pre-paid taxi to Calangute where I was staying. My driver took me to Mira Resort, just a short five minute walk from the Arabian Sea.
To be continued...
So, anyway, I started by talking about this cool garden I'd forgotten to mention when I was writing about Delhi - I went there on the day after I went to Agra and it was called Lodi Garden. It is very cool and contains some 15th and 16th century ruins of tombs. The setting of the ruins in the park is great - nice contrasts between the crumbling structures and the wild growth of trees and bushes. You'll see what I mean when I post pictures.
Ok, so day two of Mumbai was a wandering sort of day through the Colaba district of the city - this is where the Gateway to India is. There were a few ships in the harbor and lots of people milling around. Then I got my first taste of monsoon weather. I was looking at street vendors' wares and was dry and five seconds later there was a downpour and I was soaked - the rain felt great, but getting soaked while wearing jeans did not. I ducked into a coffee shop to dry off and then went to a cd shop where I bought a $6.00 copy of "Crash" which I imagine is supposed to be in color, but not in my pirated version.
I was also biding my time a bit because I was waiting to hear about my train ticket to Goa. I found out that to take the night train, you really should book the ticket two days in advance. So I got Agnelo, the hotel clerk to take care of it for me. He told me I needed to give him a few extra rupies so he could bribe the ticket guy. I'm not sure if he actually did this, or said it so that he could make a few rupies, but I gave him the money because it sounded shady and cool. I'd already checked out of the hotel but was keeping my luggage there until I had to catch my train at 11pm. I ate at a really good restaurant called Samrat and ate far too much butter naan and rich desserts than was good for me. Later in the day I picked up my ticket from Agnelo for a second class reserved sleeping berth on the night train to Goa. After spending the day walking around the area between the train station and my hotel, I got used to being approached by vendors right and left and got pretty good at ignoring people who were just wanting to sell me things or get me to take their taxis.
I headed over to the train station at 10pm so I could get an idea of the platform I had to leave from and make sure where everything was. The train arrived by 10:30 and I walked and walked until I found my car. When I got on I was a bit nervous - I had heard that the trains could be a bit dodgy and that you had to watch your luggage closely. Luckily I got a lower berth across from an older gentleman named Narayan - he was a semi-retired postal worker heading down to Goa and - as luck would have it - to the same stop that I was getting off at. Soon we were joined by some 40-something guys traveling together. Second class carriages in India are nothing like any train I have ever been on before. you sit six in an area and then there is an upper, middle and lower berth on each side. There are fans on the ceiling to keep you cool at night, but the trains are in poor shape and offer little comfort. I bundled up my backpack for a pillow, tied a handkerchief around my head, put in my headphones - mostly to keep small bugs from getting in my ears (they may have been cockroaches). I was pretty tired and slept well until I woke up in the middle of the night with a bit of a stomach cramp - I remembered then that the iced coffee I'd drunk earlier may not have had clean ice in it. I took some medicine, but still needed to head to the bathroom - i.e. hole in the floor with treads on either side (glad to have had toilet paper with me - and Purell).
I woke up super early and had some chai that a food service guy came by with - Rs.2 (this amount increased significantly on my train ride back to Mumbai two days later). The rest of the train ride was eternal but I finally reached Tivim(my stop)at around 12:30 and took a pre-paid taxi to Calangute where I was staying. My driver took me to Mira Resort, just a short five minute walk from the Arabian Sea.
To be continued...
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
India Part 2
First another note about Air Indian (which redeemed itself somewhat by being very prompt most of the trip home (yes, I'm back on Japanese soil)): Any guesses as to what the in flight movie was on my way to India - what recent, award-lauded Hollywood film (they did show some Hindi films) they showed?
Dr. Doolittle Three
Yes, three. My headphones were broken, but somehow the voices and bad acting still came through visually - I wasn't even aware there was a third film. After, they showed some post-Cheers second rate sit-com with Ted Danson and interspersed it with random bloopers and practical jokes.
Okay, on to Mumbai:
I got in in the middle of the night and took my pre-paid taxi into town (45 minute ride). This is actually a perfect time to drive in Mumbai as there is very little traffic and the incessant honking is reduced to a minimum. The Residency Hotel was eagerly awaiting my arrival and I was soon up in my marble-floored room which was clean nicely furnished and had A/C. After a great night's sleep, I got up and found a small restaurant across the street from the hotel for breakfast. The street was already a mass of people going to work, street vendors setting up their stands, taxis, auto-rickshaws, cars, stray dogs, cats, and the odd cow. I am not very adept at crossing the street even in the US, so in countries like Japan and India where the driving is done on the left side of the road, I'm even more confused. What I did in this case was to look for a person or group of people crossing and stay close to them - I figure they know the ropes better than I do, so I'll trust them. At the restaurant, I had some iidli (sp?) a kind of rice patty that you dip in a coconut chutney or small curried type soup. I also had some porridge with whole spices in it - it was very good. I also learned to eat as the Indians do - with my right hand, while my left hand sits on my lap. A few of the Indians I met - when they found I was living in Japan currently - would ask about using chopsticks and were amazed that I knew how to use them. I also always tried to be very careful about not using my left hand cuz that's your bathroom hand - which is good to know when you are in a bathroom and it's just you and a hole in the ground with treads on either side, a flush, and a hose with a spray nozzle on it for you to clean yourself with. Luckily I'd pinched a roll of toilet paper from my hotel to keep with me in emergency situations such as this.
I walked around the neighborhood by my hotel (Fort area) and just took in the scope of the city and decided that I really like Mumbai - it is entirely different in character to Delhi. It is vibrant and alive - yes it is dirty and smells like urine in spots and you have to dodge people sleeping on the pavement in front of you, but there is also a wonderful quality of community about the place - couples and even friends walk arm in arm around the streets talking and laughing and you get small bursts of wonderful smells - someone roasting peanuts on a street corner, a woman's perfume, sandalwood eminating from gift shops, and even just the smell of humanity. Even as I write this and remember in my mind the people and places I saw, I am a little reluctant to describe too much because I don't want it to sound wrong or even touristy or enlightened or something - like the great Westerner coming in and "getting" India. I don't get the country at all, but I am in awe of it.
I ended up at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya (Prince of Wales Museum) which first opened in 1923 (Michel, aren't you impressed with my inclusion of more specific information - Thank goodness I have Lonely Planet: India handy). This museum has a wonderful collection of sculpture and paintings by Indian artists - mostly depicting figures from the Hindu religion - Vishnu, Shiva, Ganesha, there is also a room with some nice Japanese art in it. One drawback - the cost for foreigners: If you are Indian, it's Rs10 and if you are a foreign visitor, it's Rs 300. So basically if you are local it only costs 21 cents but if you are a visitor the price is jacked up to about $6.50. Still, the building is quiet beautiful to look at and is surrounded by a lush garden with tall palm trees.
That reminds me - India may have more litter than Japan, but it has A LOT more green in its cities. The trees here are so beautiful and lush and wonderful to look at (and thankfully, not cut back every fall).
I lunched back at the same restaurant and had masala dosa. A dosa is like a brittle crepe and in the middle was this wonderfully spiced potato and onion mix with curry leaves and mustard seed. After, I went to my hotel to nap as I was still tired from a late night arrival. In late afternoon and evening I went shopping at FabIndia - an awesome clothing store with inexpensive, beautiful Indian wear. I got some long and short kurtas and some pajama type pants to wear under the long kurta. Then I went to a bookstore and looked around for a bit. By this point in the day, I noticed many guys wearing thin colorful threaded bracelets with small flowers or trinkets on them, and found out that it was Raksha Bandhan day - a day that celebrates the bond between brothers and sisters. It takes place during the full moon and the sister ties the band around her brother's wrist and the brother gives his sister a gift and vows to look after her. I really liked this idea as I have an awesome sister - I would see men on the trains and streets sharing cellphone messages they'd received from their sisters. Girls can also give bracelets to good male friends they wish to "adopt" as brothers. In the evening everyone was out and the streets were damp and everything was colorful and very happy.
That's it for my first full day in Mumbai.
More later...
Dr. Doolittle Three
Yes, three. My headphones were broken, but somehow the voices and bad acting still came through visually - I wasn't even aware there was a third film. After, they showed some post-Cheers second rate sit-com with Ted Danson and interspersed it with random bloopers and practical jokes.
Okay, on to Mumbai:
I got in in the middle of the night and took my pre-paid taxi into town (45 minute ride). This is actually a perfect time to drive in Mumbai as there is very little traffic and the incessant honking is reduced to a minimum. The Residency Hotel was eagerly awaiting my arrival and I was soon up in my marble-floored room which was clean nicely furnished and had A/C. After a great night's sleep, I got up and found a small restaurant across the street from the hotel for breakfast. The street was already a mass of people going to work, street vendors setting up their stands, taxis, auto-rickshaws, cars, stray dogs, cats, and the odd cow. I am not very adept at crossing the street even in the US, so in countries like Japan and India where the driving is done on the left side of the road, I'm even more confused. What I did in this case was to look for a person or group of people crossing and stay close to them - I figure they know the ropes better than I do, so I'll trust them. At the restaurant, I had some iidli (sp?) a kind of rice patty that you dip in a coconut chutney or small curried type soup. I also had some porridge with whole spices in it - it was very good. I also learned to eat as the Indians do - with my right hand, while my left hand sits on my lap. A few of the Indians I met - when they found I was living in Japan currently - would ask about using chopsticks and were amazed that I knew how to use them. I also always tried to be very careful about not using my left hand cuz that's your bathroom hand - which is good to know when you are in a bathroom and it's just you and a hole in the ground with treads on either side, a flush, and a hose with a spray nozzle on it for you to clean yourself with. Luckily I'd pinched a roll of toilet paper from my hotel to keep with me in emergency situations such as this.
I walked around the neighborhood by my hotel (Fort area) and just took in the scope of the city and decided that I really like Mumbai - it is entirely different in character to Delhi. It is vibrant and alive - yes it is dirty and smells like urine in spots and you have to dodge people sleeping on the pavement in front of you, but there is also a wonderful quality of community about the place - couples and even friends walk arm in arm around the streets talking and laughing and you get small bursts of wonderful smells - someone roasting peanuts on a street corner, a woman's perfume, sandalwood eminating from gift shops, and even just the smell of humanity. Even as I write this and remember in my mind the people and places I saw, I am a little reluctant to describe too much because I don't want it to sound wrong or even touristy or enlightened or something - like the great Westerner coming in and "getting" India. I don't get the country at all, but I am in awe of it.
I ended up at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya (Prince of Wales Museum) which first opened in 1923 (Michel, aren't you impressed with my inclusion of more specific information - Thank goodness I have Lonely Planet: India handy). This museum has a wonderful collection of sculpture and paintings by Indian artists - mostly depicting figures from the Hindu religion - Vishnu, Shiva, Ganesha, there is also a room with some nice Japanese art in it. One drawback - the cost for foreigners: If you are Indian, it's Rs10 and if you are a foreign visitor, it's Rs 300. So basically if you are local it only costs 21 cents but if you are a visitor the price is jacked up to about $6.50. Still, the building is quiet beautiful to look at and is surrounded by a lush garden with tall palm trees.
That reminds me - India may have more litter than Japan, but it has A LOT more green in its cities. The trees here are so beautiful and lush and wonderful to look at (and thankfully, not cut back every fall).
I lunched back at the same restaurant and had masala dosa. A dosa is like a brittle crepe and in the middle was this wonderfully spiced potato and onion mix with curry leaves and mustard seed. After, I went to my hotel to nap as I was still tired from a late night arrival. In late afternoon and evening I went shopping at FabIndia - an awesome clothing store with inexpensive, beautiful Indian wear. I got some long and short kurtas and some pajama type pants to wear under the long kurta. Then I went to a bookstore and looked around for a bit. By this point in the day, I noticed many guys wearing thin colorful threaded bracelets with small flowers or trinkets on them, and found out that it was Raksha Bandhan day - a day that celebrates the bond between brothers and sisters. It takes place during the full moon and the sister ties the band around her brother's wrist and the brother gives his sister a gift and vows to look after her. I really liked this idea as I have an awesome sister - I would see men on the trains and streets sharing cellphone messages they'd received from their sisters. Girls can also give bracelets to good male friends they wish to "adopt" as brothers. In the evening everyone was out and the streets were damp and everything was colorful and very happy.
That's it for my first full day in Mumbai.
More later...
Monday, August 14, 2006
My Last Evening in India
I'll be posting pics once I get back to Japan and have a chance to sort through them, but I thought I'd describe my trip first and then the photos will make more (or less sense). First things first: NEVER fly Air India. NEVER! Unless you have a lot of time on your hands and have a penchant for airport architecture. My flight to Delhi was delayed 8 hours making my arrival time 1am instead of 5pm. My flight to Bombay was also delayed by 1 1/2 hours - not a good track record. Not sure what will happen tomorrow as it is Indian Independence Day here and security will be pretty tight.
Anyway, here's the breakdown (I may do this in chunks as there is a lot to tell. So today is the Delhi/Agra part of my trip:
Days 1 & 2: Delhi/Agra: Saw a bit of Delhi by night (including the Red Fort where everyone is waiting for some horrible terrorist happening to occur tomorrow when the Prime Minister addresses the country)on the way to my accommodations in the diplomatic district where the youth hostel is - almost hit a cow on the way. Yes, this is the land of the original "Holy Cow" - they wander about the city streets and highways and are generally left alone and are about the only things traffic will stop for. I'd heard of this before, but I'd always imagined it in my mind as something much more rural: a dirt road with a cow in the way of the car. Instead, this cow was crossing the median from one part of the highway to the other.
After a good night's rest, I took a rather new lightrail system to a rather old bus to get to the charter bus going to Agra where the Taj Mahal is. I have never had to run and jump on a moving bus, but that is what is done here - bus drivers wait for no one. I was behind some guys and as they got on before me and the guy in front of me, the bus started moving. The guy ahead ran, grabbed the rail and hopped on so I did the same. Then I had to push through the crowd to pay the bus conductor; a nice, old Indian gentleman gave me his seat saying that as a visitor, I should be given preference. That was nice of him, wasn't it? Thanks, old New Delhi guy! He was just the first of many people who came across my path and helped me find my way.
Once I got to the right bus for Agra, I found it would take about 5 hours. This was told to me by the Indian doctor sitting next to me who was also taking a day trip to the Taj Mahal. This guy saved my life in Agra as I would never have known how to get to the Taj once I reached the city. The bus ride was super long and uncomfortable as my knees get to hurting a bit when sitting in a cramped bus seat. We stopped about 2/3 of the way there at a roadside rest stop which is nothing like a roadside rest stop in the US. Instead of a toilet, there was a wall with piled up garbage onto which I relieved myself (while breathing only through my mouth and wearing Tevas with no socks). I got some chips and a bottled orange soda (let me say here that I have made it through my trip without any substantial case of Delhi Belly as they call it) and then re-boarded the bus. When I got to Agra, the doctor suggested we get off the bus a little early as the driver was going to take us way out of the way. So he flagged down an auto-rickshaw (like an old, modified, smaller, faster version of a golf cart with a canvas hood)and we road it for a bit until the driver stopped and insisted on picking up two more travelers - otherwise he said he'd charge us double, so we paid, got out and looked for a cheaper mode of transport - this turned out to be a bicycle-rickshaw. This poor skinny dude biked us like three miles across town to get to the Taj. I gave him a good tip.
What is the Taj like? Well, when I post the pictures you will see a taste for yourself, but the pics are nothing like being there. It is quite possibly the most beautiful structure I have EVER seen in my life - perfectly balanced, glowing in all of its white marbled glory and surrounded by majestic gardens. It was built as a mausoleum after the death of this raj's (?) third wife - the only wife to provide him with a son. Then his son took over and imprisoned his father but gave him a room with a view so to speak - from the fort where he was kept under house arrest, he had a perfect view of the Taj. Agra is such a depressed town with a lot of extreme poverty and then this amazing structure is so unlike Agra that it is a bit like a dream - you'd think the Taj people would be able to use some of the proceeds (by the way, if you are Indian, you pay like $2.00 to get in, but if you are a foreigner, you have to fork over about $15.00 to get in - pretty normal here in most museums I went to) to revive this depressed town.
After the Taj, the Indian doctor suggested we take the train back to Delhi as it would shave off a few hours - this we did. Bike-rickshaw guy (the same one) met us outside and took us to the station). At one stop, two kids risked getting killed by the crazy traffic to try and sell me these twisty bracelets. Unfortunately, poverty is rife here in certain areas and it's heart-breaking to see. I felt stupid and helpless and exploited and exploiting and guilty and un-Christian and depressed for not responding with money. I was about to write that I didn't know what to do, but that's wrong, I did know I should help, but I'd read in several places to discourage begging otherwise, you'll be surrounded and it also perpetrates the behavior. I understand this, but I have money and the kid with half of his left foot missing doesn't. As you can guess, I didn't help and now I have to deal with my conscience (even that feels like a luxury).
Riding on the trains is an interesting experience in India, the cars are pretty old and the seats are wooden. Matt's butt does not like wooden seats - wooden seats are comfortable for about 5 minutes, after which, it's just torture. I was stared at for most of the trip by the people sitting in the seats across the aisle from me - one guy actually turned and just sat and looked at me for an hour, so I went to sleep.
The next day I went around Connaught Circle which is a cool area of Delhi with lots of shops and restaurants. I drank lassi (a yogurt drink) and ate lunch at my friend Suvir's restaurant Veda. It's super chic and gaudy and the spicy corn soup and butter naan I had was amazing. After looking around a bit, I went to the airport and awaited my flight. 15 minutes before boarding, we were told to change from gate 7 to gate 1. We all truged downstairs to gate one and were then told our flight was delayed 1 hour and 45 minutes, so I sat and tried to figure out the next leg of my journey. After waiting, we were all bussed out on the tarmack to our plane where we boarded. A man was sitting in my chair but said we could sit anywhere. So I did. I got to Mumbai in the middle of the night and took a pre-paid taxi to the hotel in central Mumbai (you have to get a pre-paid taxi in the airport otherwise you get swindled when you try and hail a cab yourself.
That's it for Delhi and Agra.
To be continued...
Anyway, here's the breakdown (I may do this in chunks as there is a lot to tell. So today is the Delhi/Agra part of my trip:
Days 1 & 2: Delhi/Agra: Saw a bit of Delhi by night (including the Red Fort where everyone is waiting for some horrible terrorist happening to occur tomorrow when the Prime Minister addresses the country)on the way to my accommodations in the diplomatic district where the youth hostel is - almost hit a cow on the way. Yes, this is the land of the original "Holy Cow" - they wander about the city streets and highways and are generally left alone and are about the only things traffic will stop for. I'd heard of this before, but I'd always imagined it in my mind as something much more rural: a dirt road with a cow in the way of the car. Instead, this cow was crossing the median from one part of the highway to the other.
After a good night's rest, I took a rather new lightrail system to a rather old bus to get to the charter bus going to Agra where the Taj Mahal is. I have never had to run and jump on a moving bus, but that is what is done here - bus drivers wait for no one. I was behind some guys and as they got on before me and the guy in front of me, the bus started moving. The guy ahead ran, grabbed the rail and hopped on so I did the same. Then I had to push through the crowd to pay the bus conductor; a nice, old Indian gentleman gave me his seat saying that as a visitor, I should be given preference. That was nice of him, wasn't it? Thanks, old New Delhi guy! He was just the first of many people who came across my path and helped me find my way.
Once I got to the right bus for Agra, I found it would take about 5 hours. This was told to me by the Indian doctor sitting next to me who was also taking a day trip to the Taj Mahal. This guy saved my life in Agra as I would never have known how to get to the Taj once I reached the city. The bus ride was super long and uncomfortable as my knees get to hurting a bit when sitting in a cramped bus seat. We stopped about 2/3 of the way there at a roadside rest stop which is nothing like a roadside rest stop in the US. Instead of a toilet, there was a wall with piled up garbage onto which I relieved myself (while breathing only through my mouth and wearing Tevas with no socks). I got some chips and a bottled orange soda (let me say here that I have made it through my trip without any substantial case of Delhi Belly as they call it) and then re-boarded the bus. When I got to Agra, the doctor suggested we get off the bus a little early as the driver was going to take us way out of the way. So he flagged down an auto-rickshaw (like an old, modified, smaller, faster version of a golf cart with a canvas hood)and we road it for a bit until the driver stopped and insisted on picking up two more travelers - otherwise he said he'd charge us double, so we paid, got out and looked for a cheaper mode of transport - this turned out to be a bicycle-rickshaw. This poor skinny dude biked us like three miles across town to get to the Taj. I gave him a good tip.
What is the Taj like? Well, when I post the pictures you will see a taste for yourself, but the pics are nothing like being there. It is quite possibly the most beautiful structure I have EVER seen in my life - perfectly balanced, glowing in all of its white marbled glory and surrounded by majestic gardens. It was built as a mausoleum after the death of this raj's (?) third wife - the only wife to provide him with a son. Then his son took over and imprisoned his father but gave him a room with a view so to speak - from the fort where he was kept under house arrest, he had a perfect view of the Taj. Agra is such a depressed town with a lot of extreme poverty and then this amazing structure is so unlike Agra that it is a bit like a dream - you'd think the Taj people would be able to use some of the proceeds (by the way, if you are Indian, you pay like $2.00 to get in, but if you are a foreigner, you have to fork over about $15.00 to get in - pretty normal here in most museums I went to) to revive this depressed town.
After the Taj, the Indian doctor suggested we take the train back to Delhi as it would shave off a few hours - this we did. Bike-rickshaw guy (the same one) met us outside and took us to the station). At one stop, two kids risked getting killed by the crazy traffic to try and sell me these twisty bracelets. Unfortunately, poverty is rife here in certain areas and it's heart-breaking to see. I felt stupid and helpless and exploited and exploiting and guilty and un-Christian and depressed for not responding with money. I was about to write that I didn't know what to do, but that's wrong, I did know I should help, but I'd read in several places to discourage begging otherwise, you'll be surrounded and it also perpetrates the behavior. I understand this, but I have money and the kid with half of his left foot missing doesn't. As you can guess, I didn't help and now I have to deal with my conscience (even that feels like a luxury).
Riding on the trains is an interesting experience in India, the cars are pretty old and the seats are wooden. Matt's butt does not like wooden seats - wooden seats are comfortable for about 5 minutes, after which, it's just torture. I was stared at for most of the trip by the people sitting in the seats across the aisle from me - one guy actually turned and just sat and looked at me for an hour, so I went to sleep.
The next day I went around Connaught Circle which is a cool area of Delhi with lots of shops and restaurants. I drank lassi (a yogurt drink) and ate lunch at my friend Suvir's restaurant Veda. It's super chic and gaudy and the spicy corn soup and butter naan I had was amazing. After looking around a bit, I went to the airport and awaited my flight. 15 minutes before boarding, we were told to change from gate 7 to gate 1. We all truged downstairs to gate one and were then told our flight was delayed 1 hour and 45 minutes, so I sat and tried to figure out the next leg of my journey. After waiting, we were all bussed out on the tarmack to our plane where we boarded. A man was sitting in my chair but said we could sit anywhere. So I did. I got to Mumbai in the middle of the night and took a pre-paid taxi to the hotel in central Mumbai (you have to get a pre-paid taxi in the airport otherwise you get swindled when you try and hail a cab yourself.
That's it for Delhi and Agra.
To be continued...
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Random Memos to People Who Daily Threaten My Life
-Dear cars parked on the sidewalk:
This is a sidewalk; it's where PEOPLE walk or bike. I don't care if you are just going in to pick up flowers for your wife or if you have to drop off the mail. It's a sidewalk and you're in my way.
-Dear people in cars that come speeding out of parking lots in front of me:
GET OFF YOUR CELLPHONES (and look both ways).
-Dear business men on bicycles:
GET OFF YOUR CELLPHONES.
P.S. To one other business man on a bicycle: Wait until you get home to read Manga - reading a book and bicycling on a busy road is not a good idea.
-Dear five students (every 100 meters) getting out of school:
Don't ride five abreast down the sidewalk in the busiest part of town with your pals riding piggyback on the back of your bikes. And when someone is coming toward you - MOVE or get into a single file line. I know your lives suck because you spend six days a week in school and have to dress like the von Trapp family children every waking hour, but C'mon! (is that how that's spelt?)
-Dear old man (or sometimes woman walking bent forward as if she were carrying a boulder on her back) wandering aimlessly back and forth in front of me, countering my every attempt to pass:
Please turn up your hearing aid!!!! I know my little bell is quaint sounding and could be missed with all of the traffic noise swelling around you, but really - can't you hear the glass-shattering squeal of my brakes as I slam to a stop to keep from hitting you?
I know you are probably using your age to pretend that you cannot hear my approach, and you are getting some sort of perverse pleasure watching the bald foreign guy try and choose between hitting a post or knocking over 10 bicycles lined up outside a shop, but give me a break. Also, I would appreciate it if you would not stare at me as if I were some creature from another world.
Dear everyone who wanders aimlessly out of stores with their eyes up in the sky, never looking where they are going:
Don't decide to stop just in the center of the sidewalk to contemplate the weather, and don't scowl at me because you almost got hit. You're so overly polite at pedestrian crossings and you never J-walk, so why can't you use the same care when on the sidewalk?
Dear all of you in combination:
THIS IS NOT FROGGER!
***
A small note: Back in the States, I always biked on the road with the cars, but here, tho' I'm sure the law is the same, every biker rides on the sidewalks. At the crosswalks they even have a bike lane next to the pedestrian cross that leads from one sidewalk to another, so I'm not just being that jerk on the bike who rides on the sidewalk and gets in everyone's way - we all ride on the sidewalk (it's far too dangerous on the road with the cars).
Also, like in the States, I am endlessly annoyed that people on foot or bike don't follow traffic patterns. I have even tried biking on the left side of the sidewalk, but even this doesn't work.
This is a sidewalk; it's where PEOPLE walk or bike. I don't care if you are just going in to pick up flowers for your wife or if you have to drop off the mail. It's a sidewalk and you're in my way.
-Dear people in cars that come speeding out of parking lots in front of me:
GET OFF YOUR CELLPHONES (and look both ways).
-Dear business men on bicycles:
GET OFF YOUR CELLPHONES.
P.S. To one other business man on a bicycle: Wait until you get home to read Manga - reading a book and bicycling on a busy road is not a good idea.
-Dear five students (every 100 meters) getting out of school:
Don't ride five abreast down the sidewalk in the busiest part of town with your pals riding piggyback on the back of your bikes. And when someone is coming toward you - MOVE or get into a single file line. I know your lives suck because you spend six days a week in school and have to dress like the von Trapp family children every waking hour, but C'mon! (is that how that's spelt?)
-Dear old man (or sometimes woman walking bent forward as if she were carrying a boulder on her back) wandering aimlessly back and forth in front of me, countering my every attempt to pass:
Please turn up your hearing aid!!!! I know my little bell is quaint sounding and could be missed with all of the traffic noise swelling around you, but really - can't you hear the glass-shattering squeal of my brakes as I slam to a stop to keep from hitting you?
I know you are probably using your age to pretend that you cannot hear my approach, and you are getting some sort of perverse pleasure watching the bald foreign guy try and choose between hitting a post or knocking over 10 bicycles lined up outside a shop, but give me a break. Also, I would appreciate it if you would not stare at me as if I were some creature from another world.
Dear everyone who wanders aimlessly out of stores with their eyes up in the sky, never looking where they are going:
Don't decide to stop just in the center of the sidewalk to contemplate the weather, and don't scowl at me because you almost got hit. You're so overly polite at pedestrian crossings and you never J-walk, so why can't you use the same care when on the sidewalk?
Dear all of you in combination:
THIS IS NOT FROGGER!
***
A small note: Back in the States, I always biked on the road with the cars, but here, tho' I'm sure the law is the same, every biker rides on the sidewalks. At the crosswalks they even have a bike lane next to the pedestrian cross that leads from one sidewalk to another, so I'm not just being that jerk on the bike who rides on the sidewalk and gets in everyone's way - we all ride on the sidewalk (it's far too dangerous on the road with the cars).
Also, like in the States, I am endlessly annoyed that people on foot or bike don't follow traffic patterns. I have even tried biking on the left side of the sidewalk, but even this doesn't work.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Here's something that amused me...
I took this on the train from Utsunomiya to Shinjuku Station. At first I did a double take. Then I smiled to myself. Then I thought about how completely uncomfortable it would be to sit on your legs for a whole train ride home. Then I remembered that with my kick-ass Japanese cell phone (Vodafone) I could rather discretely take a picture without drawing attention to myself.
Then I thought, this is the sort of picture that ends up on websites where people post about crop circles, alien sightings, and ghost chasing.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
To the man biking past me two days ago
Dear Japanese bicyclist:
I want to express my heartfelt thanks to you for sneezing on me as you biked past me the other night. I was the guy coming out of the Seven-Eleven* store with a suit on a hanger folded over my arm, a backpack, and a bag with milk and yogurt. Had I known you were going to spray your cold all over me, I would have also had throat lozenges and cough syrup in the bag.
Normally I wouldn't write, but this is the third cold I've gotten since coming to Japan. Why don't you at least wear one of those surgical masks everyone else is wearing - they seem to do no good, but at least it would block the spray. I woke up yesterday morning with one Jim Dandy of a sore throat.
I am holding you financially responsible. Please send me 120￥ for the lozenges I had to buy yesterday, and 1400￥ for the two screwdrivers I had after work to give me some vitamin C and a little incentive to sleep better. That makes 1520￥ that you owe me; we'll round it up to an even 2000￥ - this will cover any subsequent costs to treat my cold.
Yours respectfully,
Matto sensei
*Yes, Seven-Elevens are all over this country
I want to express my heartfelt thanks to you for sneezing on me as you biked past me the other night. I was the guy coming out of the Seven-Eleven* store with a suit on a hanger folded over my arm, a backpack, and a bag with milk and yogurt. Had I known you were going to spray your cold all over me, I would have also had throat lozenges and cough syrup in the bag.
Normally I wouldn't write, but this is the third cold I've gotten since coming to Japan. Why don't you at least wear one of those surgical masks everyone else is wearing - they seem to do no good, but at least it would block the spray. I woke up yesterday morning with one Jim Dandy of a sore throat.
I am holding you financially responsible. Please send me 120￥ for the lozenges I had to buy yesterday, and 1400￥ for the two screwdrivers I had after work to give me some vitamin C and a little incentive to sleep better. That makes 1520￥ that you owe me; we'll round it up to an even 2000￥ - this will cover any subsequent costs to treat my cold.
Yours respectfully,
Matto sensei
*Yes, Seven-Elevens are all over this country
Friday, January 13, 2006
I'm Here
1/14/06
I am typing this entry from the Omyia Seminar House – the training center for Aeon. I’m picking up a WiFi signal from somewhere, but it looks like it has to be reset, as I cannot open any sites. Well, yesterday’s travels went off without a hitch – I took an early flight out of Minneapolis (at 6:50 instead of 8:00 am) and had some time to kill in Chicago. Ate a Cinnabon with some horrible coffee, made a few last minute calls and then boarded the flight to Narita airport in Tokyo. Note to American Airlines: Please include more films in your in-flight movie selection, or change things out in mid flight so that I don’t have to watch “Bruce Almighty,” a single episode of “Joey,” or “In Her Shoes” [yes, Jess, I had to sit through that movie once again – but it was way more entertaining with you there the first time] over and over (granted, you did show “Beautiful Mind” and some silly horse flick with Kurt Russell, but let’s try and get some better titles – the sorts of movies you can watch and say, that was so awesome, I don’t mind watching that three more times on this trip!).
On the flight I fidgeted a lot – I do that on plane rides of over four hours. I had the mixed blessing of being seated closest to the lavs in the middle of the plane – good because, if you know me, you know I have a micro-bladder – bad because a) people standing around waiting to use the commode are sometimes gassy and b) every time someone came out of the john, I got a whiff of the smelly toilet. Mostly I sat reading, working an impossible book of Sudoku (Jean, I have yet to successfully finish a puzzle from the book you gave me – the easiest ones are impossible!), or watching the progress on the flight in both Japanese and English.
I got to the airport without any problem, got my luggage and made it past customs (even with their sniffing dog) and met Shannon – one of the trainers. I sat and got acquainted with five other future Aeon teachers – all super friendly and fun to talk to. We sent our luggage off to our schools, grabbed our carry-on and headed out on the trains to get to the training center. Some things I observed:
- Really cool landscape and trees – the afternoon was really foggy so this heightened the beauty of them.
- The vending machines all sell cans of tea with milk and sugar (lots!) – and they come out of the machine nice and piping hot.
- It is weird to be in a country where you do not speak the language, or recognize the written characters.
- The awesome train seat pairs flip around so you can sit facing or away from your traveling companions.
From the train station, we jumped into four cabs (we’d picked up another trainer and three other teachers whom we’d met at the train stop) and came to the Seminar House. We were greeted by two members of the staff who gave us slippers in exchange for our shoes, showed us round the place, and then showed us our rooms – I’m rooming with another fellow named Matt who is from Chicago. A bunch of us headed down to Lawson’s (kind of like SA or 7/11) and – Oh, my gosh! I just snuck downstairs to use the bathroom. The toilet down their had a heated seat! This training center is pretty cold, so toilet seat, my buns thank you. – bought some bento boxes (boxed lunch things) for tomorrow and I got one of these triangular snack things that is basically a hunk of rice with something in the middle – mine was a soy tasting thing – and wrapped in seaweed – it was an awesome snack – hit the spot. I then ironed my business clothes for the first day of training and got ready for bed. I was super exhausted and it was only 9pm. It is now 5am and I’ve been up since 3:45 unable to sleep. That’s why I came out here to type this. I’m the only one up at present – Oh, and the other big news is that during training everyone for some unknown reason, must be cleanly shaved – No facial hair whatsoever – so my trim beard no longer exists and I can’t help but do a double take every time I walk by a mirror. That’s all for now; I’ll let you know how the first day of training goes.
I am typing this entry from the Omyia Seminar House – the training center for Aeon. I’m picking up a WiFi signal from somewhere, but it looks like it has to be reset, as I cannot open any sites. Well, yesterday’s travels went off without a hitch – I took an early flight out of Minneapolis (at 6:50 instead of 8:00 am) and had some time to kill in Chicago. Ate a Cinnabon with some horrible coffee, made a few last minute calls and then boarded the flight to Narita airport in Tokyo. Note to American Airlines: Please include more films in your in-flight movie selection, or change things out in mid flight so that I don’t have to watch “Bruce Almighty,” a single episode of “Joey,” or “In Her Shoes” [yes, Jess, I had to sit through that movie once again – but it was way more entertaining with you there the first time] over and over (granted, you did show “Beautiful Mind” and some silly horse flick with Kurt Russell, but let’s try and get some better titles – the sorts of movies you can watch and say, that was so awesome, I don’t mind watching that three more times on this trip!).
On the flight I fidgeted a lot – I do that on plane rides of over four hours. I had the mixed blessing of being seated closest to the lavs in the middle of the plane – good because, if you know me, you know I have a micro-bladder – bad because a) people standing around waiting to use the commode are sometimes gassy and b) every time someone came out of the john, I got a whiff of the smelly toilet. Mostly I sat reading, working an impossible book of Sudoku (Jean, I have yet to successfully finish a puzzle from the book you gave me – the easiest ones are impossible!), or watching the progress on the flight in both Japanese and English.
I got to the airport without any problem, got my luggage and made it past customs (even with their sniffing dog) and met Shannon – one of the trainers. I sat and got acquainted with five other future Aeon teachers – all super friendly and fun to talk to. We sent our luggage off to our schools, grabbed our carry-on and headed out on the trains to get to the training center. Some things I observed:
- Really cool landscape and trees – the afternoon was really foggy so this heightened the beauty of them.
- The vending machines all sell cans of tea with milk and sugar (lots!) – and they come out of the machine nice and piping hot.
- It is weird to be in a country where you do not speak the language, or recognize the written characters.
- The awesome train seat pairs flip around so you can sit facing or away from your traveling companions.
From the train station, we jumped into four cabs (we’d picked up another trainer and three other teachers whom we’d met at the train stop) and came to the Seminar House. We were greeted by two members of the staff who gave us slippers in exchange for our shoes, showed us round the place, and then showed us our rooms – I’m rooming with another fellow named Matt who is from Chicago. A bunch of us headed down to Lawson’s (kind of like SA or 7/11) and – Oh, my gosh! I just snuck downstairs to use the bathroom. The toilet down their had a heated seat! This training center is pretty cold, so toilet seat, my buns thank you. – bought some bento boxes (boxed lunch things) for tomorrow and I got one of these triangular snack things that is basically a hunk of rice with something in the middle – mine was a soy tasting thing – and wrapped in seaweed – it was an awesome snack – hit the spot. I then ironed my business clothes for the first day of training and got ready for bed. I was super exhausted and it was only 9pm. It is now 5am and I’ve been up since 3:45 unable to sleep. That’s why I came out here to type this. I’m the only one up at present – Oh, and the other big news is that during training everyone for some unknown reason, must be cleanly shaved – No facial hair whatsoever – so my trim beard no longer exists and I can’t help but do a double take every time I walk by a mirror. That’s all for now; I’ll let you know how the first day of training goes.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Car Update
Progressive determined that my car is a complete loss (i.e. the cost to fix the car exceeds the value of my little Saturn).
Needless to say, my car is no longer for sale.
Needless to say, my car is no longer for sale.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
My Saturn
On my way down to Mankato last Saturday, I got into a car accident. This is the result. The pickup I nicked the corner of got by with a small ding the size of a walnut. As you can see with my car, this was not the case. My rental vehicle is a Dodge Ram.
I don't want to get into the hows and whys of the accident - suffice it to say that I'm glad I will not be driving for a year as my insurance rates will sky rocket again.
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