On India

I'm home and it's lovely.

Despite the pounding rain 24 hours a day and temperatures in the single digits (the single digits!) the comforts of home have quickly reminded me why it's nice to stay in one place for a while. I travelled for 8 months and hit five countries: Hong Kong/China, India, Nepal, Myanmar (Burma) and Thailand. While each country gave me something the others couldn't, India hit hard and deep as one of the most bazaar places I've been to.

Love it or hate it (and we all know I do both), India gets into your blood. Half in the stone-age and half in the e-age, travelling India is one of the most frustrating and wonderful experiences I've ever had. And now, it seems that only in hind site do I realize just how great it really was. India is the second most populated country in the world with numbers steadily creeping over 1.2 billion, yet India cannot employ or feed its people and the poverty of the country is an overwhelming and looming presence everywhere. Life is based on religion and religion is based on karma - which in everyday real India seems to take a back seat. I met very few people who truly believed in karma outside a temple setting. Karma to most meant bringing coconuts and flowers to Shiva rather then charging a fair price for a handful of lentils.

India is a struggle to both foreigners and locals and I would like you to imagine having to shove and yell your way through a Safeway and barter to the last rupee for absolutely everything. Getting ripped off is a way of life. Screaming about it is too. But besides all the bustle and hassle and brutality, India is extraordinarily beautiful and colourful. Details of belief and history are show from the way women wear their bangles and the colour sari they wear to the intimately carved temples.

Coming from Canada it's hard to understand how such traditional and suppressive history remains prominent today. Although not openly talk of, the struggles of women, children and those of the lower classes is almost the same as it was hundreds of years ago. India's claim to the largest democracy in the world is a facade when women are bought and sold, children are murdered, and personal success is based on who your father or brother knows, rather then ability and skills.

India is raw and thriving and unlike anywhere else in the world. It's addictive and mind-blowing and devastating. I don't think it's possible to understand India, rather it's just a place you accept. The history and customs run deep within the veins of the people and as an outsider you could never understand what it is to be Indian but it's a place where you must go to observe the realness of survival and humanity.

So Stressed Yaar

The past eleven days I have been doing absolutely nothing. Well no, that's a lie, not nothing but more nothing of major interest. After the very last and one of the worst bus rides back to Delhi we arrived at the airport 6 hours early for our flight to Goa. Quickly commandeering the "lounge" sofas we slept. Aaron was ill - India ill and feeling terrible with stomach pain and nausea so after many many hours of travel it was a relief to settle in a beach bungalow where the sounds of the waves crashing puts you in a trance instead of bleating horns and screeching breaks.

It's been stressful to say the least. The biggest decisions start in the morning when I a) have to decided between the stripy or poke-a-dot bikini and b) we have to decide where to go for breakfast. Following that another series of big decisions come when the order of reading, floating, sunning, walking, swimming, paddle-balling, hammoking, dog patting, beer drinking, and of course... where to go for dinner? We did manage to skip the beach routine for a day, instead scooting all the way up to Anjuna, in the far north of Goa from our little beach in the south, Palolem. It was killer hot but worth it because it was the last market of the season and the prices were going down faster than the drips of sweat down my bum. I bought a yak bone carving of Ganesh.

So other than that, there isn't much to report. By request I am going to put up the books I've read while travelling (well, the ones worth reading anyway) in case you're looking for something good to feast your eyes upon.

The Time Travellers Wife - Audry Niffenegger *
A Million Little Pieces - James Frey *
Under the Banner of Heaven - Jon Krakauer *
Life of Pi - Yann Martel *
Solomon Gursky Was Here - Mordecai Richler
Desert Dawn - Waris Dirie
Chaos - James Gleick (warning: nerdy science book)
Even Cowgirls get the Blues - Tom Robbins *
Mother of Pearl - Melinda Haynes
The Devil Wears Prada - Lauren Weisberger
Vernon God Little - DBC Pierre
How Soccer Explains the World: A [unlikely] theory of globalization - Franklin Foer
Amsterdam - Ian McEwan *
Burmese Days - George Orwell
Gap Creek - Robert Morgan
Guns, Germs and Steel - Jared Diamond *

The God of Small Things - Arundhati Roy *
Shantaram - David Gregory Roberts *
A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry *

* If you haven't read any on the list...pick these ones up first

Hare Om and the Nevil

I won't lie. I'm uninspired to blog right now but if I don't do it now...we'll I'll probably never do it and that might make you sad... maybe even cry which would probably upset me more than just pounding out a blog right now.

After arriving in Rishikesh late in the evening we didn't get off to a great start with a visit to the Ashram we had in mind. The lackey, beatle-head guy working the reception was a total asshole to say the least and didn't give us a great impression of what it was all about. We decided to hold off as he was asking for all the money up front and instead to a crappy hotel room for the night. The following morning we bummed around somewhat disappointed in the whole ashram scene which we found to be overly religious for us and have too many rules such as silent hours, no talking during meals, no games/music, no soap, no worldly discussion (?) etc etc etc... it was definitely the whole saving our souls vibe that we got that didn't quite suit, so we wandered down the Gages river to the other end of town. Not only did we find little Israel but also some more homey and less religious ashrams for the white people who don't want to wake up at six for yoga and be bombarded by dancing Shiva statues while reading in the courtyard. Sant Swea ashram had beginner yoga classes held twice daily which you could drop in on and pay when you like and it also had clean comfortable rooms with lots of windows. We were sold.

The next five days passed quickly with few major events. We did some classes with Yogi VJ who often confused the term "beginner" with "expert" in the poses he chose for us to try. It was pretty funny and I did learn a lot but the way he asked us to "ccccccooooooooonceeeeeeeennntraaaaatte oooooooooon yooooooooooooouuuuuur nevil!" was sometimes a little too much and I had to suppress the giggles. We ate and read and did yoga. I got a bit of a cold and Aaron bonked his head and that's about it. We wandered around town and took in the sites of cows and religious beggars and once the sundown ceremony which involved a lot of chanting and fire and I even put my feet in the Ganges!

From Lama to Lame-a!

Home to the exiled Dalai Lama, McLeod Ganj is a tiny town that joins with it's more known sister town, Dharmsala and after the long and terrible bus to get there, we found a hillside guesthouse with a view for a great price and started to enjoy the cooler mountain weather. Much like Darjeeling, McLeod Ganj has a mix of Tibetan, Nepali, Indian, and Sikh communities that all seem to revolved around the struggle for a Free Tibet. Besides visiting the Tibetan museum and strolling around the Dali Lama's residence there isn't a whole list of "to dos" or "to sees". Soaking all the Tibetan culture and dipping in a variety of classes (cooking, reiki, yoga, meditation, dance, etc) seems to be the thing to do and travellers tend to stay for long periods of time as time passes easily. We however didn't have a lot of time to spare but three days gave us a good taste.

We chilled out, walked around, did a little shopping, and educated ourselves on the Chinese control over a very peaceful Tibet. This situation is dire although the Dalai Lama and his many followers hold only positive hopes. And, as more and more people come to volunteer and learn about what they can do to help in their home countries the pressure on China to give back Tibet grows. Power in numbers seems the only way Tibet will become independent again and the Tibetan community only hopes that the many travellers that come to McLeod Ganj will pass on their messages of peace to gain support for fighting China.

Our original plan was to continue north to Kashmir province to Srinegar where house boats lull on the lake, the military keeps a close eye on Pakistan, and Kashmir sweaters are cheap and plentiful; however, the bus we thought that went there no longer does/or never did and to get there would require two full days of travel and a private taxi costing us about $400 altogether! Insanity! If there were more places to see in and around the area we would have considered it but many of the mountain passes are still closed so transportation is limited unless you want to fly. So plans changed and we decided to check out Shimla instead.

Arriving early morning after yes, another sleepless overnight bus, I quickly judged Shimla to be, well, a shithole. Not only did we have to wade through garbage (which you get very used to in India, but even this was extreme) but we also had to fend off touts as aggressive as those on the streets of Bombay. Shimla was a British colonial hill station (once) and I'm sure many years ago fit the scene of any colonial town with promenades and beautiful buildings but today, to me, besides the one pedestrian "mall" that runs along the main ridge of the mountain, Shimla has gone to the dogs - or in this case:monkeys. It now houses an out of control monkey population and a monkey temple that yes, has lots of mean monkeys, and lots of buildings that look as if they're about to fall off the mountain and send the whole town cascading to hell. The steepness and winding lanes doesn't make it easy to navigate with tired legs and a heavy backpack and as Aaron and I left the bus station we were followed by not one, not two, but three mischievous and aggressive touts. Our first stop was way up at the top of the mountain to the YMCA because the were one of the only hotels that didn't pay commission. I was sourly surprised that they were trying to rip people off of 400rps for a less than spectacular room with no attached bathroom. Ya right. We backtracked and the touts jumped on us. Their scam is to follow, see where you're going, and come inside with you telling the hotel that they brought you there which then raises the price of the room by 100-200 rps a day because you end up paying them off as well. Such a rip. Now Aaron is a nice person, nicer than I am, and after no sleep on a dirty bus I have the tendency to be even less nice so when the sneaky touts tried to hide behind walls and in lanes or linger on the steps below I went off as usual, I'm sure waking up half the people of Shimla at 6:30 in the morning.

We hiked and climbed and after a few tries the cat and mouse game ended with Aaron dropping his bags to outrun an old man - SO funny! It was a Forest Gump scene "Ruuun Aaaaaron ruuuun!". He ran the steps (the long way, I might add) and arrived at reception only to have the old tout huffing at the doorstep 20 seconds later. Aaron got the room and I followed behind yelling at the tout all the while as he was still trying to convince the hotel he had brought us there. Finally! We slept and plotted on how we were going to get out of Shimla.

A day and a half later, after seeing all there was to see in Shitla, we spent another 12 hours on local busses to get to Rishikesh. It was bad and honestly the past five days, India hasn't been dealing us any good cards at all. It goes with the territory and with the love hate so we'll chill in this uber hippie town deemed the "yoga capital of the universe" for a few more days trying to find some peace and zen in this trying country.

Absolute LOUD

As much as I thought I would remember, I was still surprised with India noise. The honking, screeching, yelling, banging, bubbling, clashing and crashing, the barking, baying, beeping and just general overwhelming ear pollution surprised me - again. Delhi round three was a quicky and not overly exciting. After an ungodly departure hour from Bangkok we arrived with a few winks of sleep after a flight on Antarctica only to have to deal with the North Indian Rail reservation system that told me that there were two tourist quota seats left on the train to Amritsar but you had to pay in foreign currency.

"Well, I was robbed and have no foreign currency"
"Yes yes whichever you like, dollars, euros pounds"
"I don't have any of those"
"Oh well, this is the only way, I can put as (tap tap tap)...number 76/77 on the wait list"
"There must be a way you can issue me those seats"
"Oh no madame, for a foreign seat you must have foreign currency"
"Ok, well, we've gone over this. I don't have foreign currency - only rupees. How else can I get a ticket"
"Oh well well yes. Did you exchange money? Do you have a receipt?"
"Yes. Here"

A few more tappy tap taps later I handed over some rupees and cursed myself for coming back to this country. Why does EVERYTHING have to be SO difficult?

We killed the afternoon with an hour and a half of internet and three power cuts, some fresh chapats and paneer masala, book shopping and me in awe of all the missing cows. I mean literally: the cows are gone! Only a few months ago cows and cow patties littered the lanes and boulevards of Delhi but now there's new metal barricades up, and the streets aren't covered in veggie ends all the people provide for the cows, the dogs and rats that eat the veggie goods and of course all the cows! Amazingly the rotten produce and cow shit smell also went along with the cows. My guess would be that this has to do with the slow but ongoing preparations that Delhi is taking on in order to host the 2010 Commonwealth Games. Who's idea it was to let Delhi home this event is beyond me - Mumbai or Kolkatta or Bangalore would have been a more savory choice but alas - apparently their working on it.

We took the very classy and comfortable (Indian comfortable) Shtabdi Express train up to Amritsar in Punjab state where, when we finally arrived around 11pm, we proceed to sleep until 4pm the next afternoon. Amritsar is one of those Indian citys of just over a million that's typical India in every way and the only reason to make a stop there was to a) see the infamous, second only to the Taj, Sikh Golden Temple and b) head out to Attari to take a peek over at Pakistan and see the totally bazaar Indi-Paki guard stomp off.

We abated by all the rules of the temple by washing our feet and covering our heads (Aaron looked especially cute with his Golden Temple orange bandanna) and hit the heat and the crowds all lined up to pray to the temple, touch stuff and all the rest. The temple complex was amazing and surrounded by over 300 rooms that are offered free to not only Sikh pilgrims but anyone who is in need of a place to stay. We opted out of waiting in the 4hr plus line-up to get inside the actual temple seeing as we're not Sikh and it didn't mean the world to us but instead we chilled out under a tree and watched the action from the shade. Also attached to the temple and the free accommodation is a free kitchen where mass production of chapattis and dal and chai are in order. Anyone can eat at any hour and hoards of volunteers cook and clean and serve which is humbling to say the least. We lined up with the masses and ate on the floor and for such quantities of food it wasn't too bad at all. After eating we invited ourselves to check out the gigantic chapatti machine - only THE coolest thing I've seen in India thus far. Bags of flour and hot ovens miraculously pumped out chapats like nothing else! Amazing!

The Attari border show was a scene. A few thousand roudy Indians jumped and hooted and bollywood danced before the 20 minute stomp-a-thon of the Paki-Indi guards. Honestly I couldn't see anything, I don't think anyone could. It was so loud and the whole time was spent watching people jump out of their seats and stand up to see and then having the crowd control guards bleep their whistles and push them back to a sit. It was hilarious and probably more entertaining then the actual ceremony. Of course their was no "personal space", everyone wanted to take our picture, and the utter lack of self control exhibited by the Indian was so explanatory of their culture it made me laugh continuously.

So that's what happened. We jetted out of Amritsar on the most horrible local bus-bus combo that took us 12 hours in total - 6 of the hours I spent barfing in a bag due to India's sanitary standards and finally we are in McLeod Ganj, I'm better, the weather's fine and life goes on.

Justice in the Kok

So getting robbed wasn't on the "to do in Bangkok" list but it happened anyway...

On the bus trip to Bangkok some terrible men did a terrible thing. As it happens more frequently than one would like to think a bus company (although not the one we had bought a ticket for - rather one we got shuffled onto after a sketchy bus-bus drop odd) had some professional thieves stowed away in the luggage compartment of the bus and as the innocent and fare paying passengers watched "The Rock" and slept sweetly they picked locks, rummaged, and nicked every last penny and card. It is unfortunate yes, but also not the worst thing that could have happened. Aaron and I were raped of about $200USD emergency money and one emergency Mastercard that of course was cancelled with ease but more upsetting was the fact that the thieves also took our souvenir money from Burma, Nepal, New Zealand, Singapore and the rupees we had ready for India - a very small sum of money and totally useless in Thailand. Bastards! On this bus ride we happened to make friends with a New Zealand/Canadian couple Shaun and Nadien who ended up at the same Bangkok guesthouse as us and of course, also got robbed. On a more severe scale than ours, their situation involved not only stolen cash (and perfume - weird) but a Visa TravelEx card that works like a loaded credit card but cannot be charged and needs a pin code to withdraw money. Little did they know but as the bus stopped for dinner in a small side of the road town Nadien's card code had been busted (somehow) and cleared out to the last penny. 80,000 Bhat (over 3,000 Cdn dollars) - enough to last her the rest of their 7 month trip and all the way to Vancouver where they will be moving in the fall. Not good, especially because of the fact that not only did they steal the card, crack the code (which she herself doesn't even know) and rock her for all she's worth... they put the card back! Unlike Nadien's card, Shaun's was stolen but they couldn't get into it, although they did attempt five times before the card shut down. Of course this became a major problem for them and when we saw them in the morning they were distraught with worry that the money would not be compensated with insurance from TravelEx. This is when the mission began.

After collecting our thoughts at lunch we made a plan and headed to file a report at the police station on Koh San - the middle of the Bangkok tourist ghetto. The kindly and cute police reception directed us to the "tourist police" which were a hundred bhat cab ride away - really far! We decided to see if we could get some more info on the bus... We went to the original bus company office where they told us were were surely not on one of their buses and that most of the other buses would be picking up people on the Koh San corner around 6pm that evening and we should see if we could identify the bus and get it's number and licence for our police report. "Ok. Good idea". We wandered down and waited... I though we were taking a stab in the dark but I was wrong. The bus showed up and we were certain it was the same one for the smashed up front and taped up headlights were all "same same". The driver and workers were NOT happy to see us. They knew what was going down: Justice in Bangkok. With cameras in hand we had a lengthy photo shoot of the bus and a few bad ones of the driver hiding behind the windshield ready to swing a metal bar at us.

"Ok ok, we need to get the cops". As Shaun and Aaron stayed to hold the bus as it was being loaded Nadien and I ran to grab a cop. Only one of us could fit on the back of the motorbike so she went and I ran back. As I came around the corner I ran into Shaun with a swollen and tearing eye and Aaron looking stunned.

"What happened?!?"
"They attacked me"

The workers/thieves of the bus had a flip out on Shaun when he snapped a few photos of their faces one tried to punch him and as he was holding him off the other got a good right swing in. After that they took off. Nadien tried finding the bus with the bike cop but returned after searching failed. We ended up back at the Koh San police station again, printed photos, and then were pushed in a taxi to go to the "tourist police". Three hours later, after explain the story about 45 times we left with little satisfaction and a copy of the report as a souvenir but of course, as most Asian cops go... there was little they could (would) do. We like to think the photos and report will help confirm the stealing of Nadien's money but a lot of effort yields only a little way here.

It leaves a bad taste of Thailand in my mouth but we'll be aight. It may sound crazy but we're going back to India. Why? Because I love India (and sorta hate it too). Next stop Delhi where it's smelly and curry will be in my belly!

Vacation from Vacation

Koh Phan-Ngan Island, neighboring to Koh Tao was our home for the last eight days and nights and I apologize to all the regular blog readers about the lack of posting, but unlike the chaos of India there wasn't a lot to write home about. Anyway, we arrived on the Island and taxied to our originally planned beach of residence but found out very quickly that from the town where the truck dropped us and the beach of destination the dirt "foot path" was only negotiable with one of us on the motorbike (just), let alone with large backpacks. I ended up walking in the hot sun with my bag for a while up the hills and through the dirt and we decided to ditch the big bags at the bike shop and find a better beach. A couple of hours of exploring later we found Aoh Mae Haad where we got a bungalow and bunkered down for what was to be a very very stressful and trying eight days. Not.

A week went by in a blink. We made time for some off shore snorkeling at the nearby reef where it was said to be the best snorkeling on the island - but after diving didn't really compare. Cool nonetheless. And we also spent some time scooting to town for cold beers and chocolate milk shooters from the 7-11 and one day ventured to the other side of the island to check out the scene of Haat Rin where all the cool kids hang out. Unfortunately that mission ended only with a traffic ticket, a rain storm, getting stuck on multiple steep hills our scooty couldn't make it up, a crappy lunch and me eating a jar of olives from the grocery store. We called it quits as it just wasn't meant to be and besides, our bungalow was calling us back to enjoy bloody Mary's on the balcony. Apart from soaking up some sun and floating around on the gentle waves with Nemu we gathered all our energy at ventured to the "Black Moon" party one evening, around 1:30am. Koh Phan-Ngan is famous for its Full Moon party which of course happens on the full moon but they also make any sort of moon excuse to play trance or drum and base beats, fill party goers with buckets of vodka and redbull, and then have another "after party" the following night. It was entertaining but not exactly my scene but the people watching was right up there with Koh San Road. We stayed until five and got slightly lost getting home on the bike which all of sudden turned to another dirt road adventure but ended back in bed before sunrise. Phew.

So really there isn't much else. We met some nice peeps also hanging out on the same beach as us (Brits abroad, cocky Canadian, and humble German) that we frequented with but other than all the relaxing and book reading not a lot was accomplished - just as we planned. But do not fear! Our lazy days on the beach are over, we back to the Kok and if that's not thriller writing enough for you we're a few sleeps away from Delhi!

Finding Nemo

Well, not Nemo exactly...but his equivalent Thai counterpart - Nemu

We left Myanmar and headed into the sticky heat of Bangkok where we spent two days enjoying street food, English movies, normal Internet, and consistent electricity. We also did some necessity shopping and it is with regret that I must tell you, the Hongger sunglasses have been replaced. They did me proud for over six months but the abuse of travelling has taken it's toll and honestly, I couldn't see through the lenses anymore. It's sad I know but the Dior's are now on the scene and giving me a new look.

We skipped out of the Kok and headed straight to the island of Koh Tao on the Eastern coast to jump right into the diving scene. Koh Tao is world famous for its fantastic dive sites so we signed up for the four day Open Water PADI course to certify ourselves to do some diving. The first two days were spent in the classroom and in the pool learning about all the gear and how to stay safe under extreme depths then the next days were spent on the boat and in the water with four open water dives. Our original group was slightly dysfunctional. It included
three "Brits abroad" (they're everywhere), a Dutch girl (who we nicknamed Titties...because, well...), a chain smoker from Montreal, and an Israeli girl... who I did not like so much. Our instructor was a character also from Israel but not particularly Israeli as he has been living and teaching on Koh Tao for the past four years which led me to check off one more item on Lifa's "to do" list. His name was Liran, he was hilarious and made the whole experience of diving stress free and relaxing. Anyway, after the first long classroom session the Brits abroad decided to booze it with their other buddy's and dropped our group to pick up with the next the following day. Down to five. We hit the pool and the Gods (if they exist) smiled upon me when Miss Israel couldn't handle the three meters of water pressure and had to stop diving. Down to four. Titties and Terry and me and Aaron. Our little group was great and because it was so small we got particular attention and spotted some not often seen marine life. We needed to pass a written test and then complete some skills in the ocean to complete the course and all that was no problem so in no time we were PADI certified and of course, wanted more.

After a day off to relax and catch up on some zzz's we started the Advanced Open Water course which involved a lot less classroom stuff and underwater skills and a lot more diving. We completed five more dives including a night dive, a navigation dive, and a deep dive to 30m. All good and the underwater world was just great. Some neat spots included a sea snake, a giant potato grouper, a baby puffer fish (and some big ones), a barracuda on the night dive, giant hermit crabs, and my favorite - Nemu and his family. It was all very exciting, exhilarating, and totally exhausting. While doing all the dive stuff we learned about the effects of nitrogen narcosis and decompression sickness both serious conditions that can happen when diving. Using tables and wheels we learned to calculate and plan our dives so that we are now certified to dive independently anywhere around the world.

It's hard to describe what it's like to be 30m underwater swimming amoung schools of fish and fending off the feisty triggers. I can see how it's addicting but like most super fun stuff - expensive! So alas, after nine dives we'll probably stick with the snorkeling for the rest of the time, although we've been told now that we're divers we'll end up unsatisfied. Tomorrow we're leaving for a neighboring island to just spend some time chilling out and having a few beers. Peace!