Snapshot

I thought an interesting new post would be to copy in an entry from my diary. So here goes a description of our time in the city of Udaipur, approximately one week ago:

The drive to Udaipur. More uncomfortably car sleeps. Necks jammed in strange places, Isaac's beanstalk legs taking up most of the car, insanely overpriced roadside diners for Channan's commission. And then the weary pile out of the car at dusk, to search for a guest house. We found ourselves walking through cramped winding streets this time, as the roads were blocked off for a Muslim festival that night. Udaipur made an instant good impression though, a huge lake in the middle, and a lovely small town vibe despite its size.



We found the perfect place to stay - Nukkad's Guest House, as recommended by the Bible (5kg Lonely Planet). Navigated our way up three flights of stairs and into a great big room ($5 per night each). There was a great street view that we discovered as we tore off our stifling hot clothes and looked down to see four aghast Indian women stopped in their tracks with their mouths open. And six teetering levels of the guest house, with vines and trinkets hanging from the top, all the way down the middle to the bottom. The downside was that the hostel owner was a sleepy man who we had to wake up from his bed every time we needed something. Always awkward waking a sleeping Indian, and a far more common task than you'd imagine.

That afternoon Nara and I went on a motor boat ride around the lake. We'd hoped to do a paddle boat as advertised on the company's signs, byt the impatient owner told us, "Paddle boats finished for the day. Start maybe in April or May". It was a lovely ride though, if a little odd. The boat guy sat Nara and me on opposing sides and glared at us the whole journey, while blasting Hindi pop music and dancing angrily.

So our journey home was difficult, as all the roads were blocked off and starting to fill up with people. We waiting in the small winding streets, and watched it all unfold. There were mostly women and children stacked around the footpaths, stairs and gutters, while men did the celebrating in the middle, and stern army dudes stood around holding guns imposingly and pretending to be tough. Mostly they ended up dawdling around us and asking for our Facebook details in broken English.

The parade that went past all night was true Indian style. Loud, gaudy, full of passion, and very precarious. Huge floats held up by yelling men would come careening around the bend, stopping and starting at random intervals, and looking like it would fall and crush 100 people at any second. After awhile we headed home. There was a huge rush of people, and suddenly Nara was yelling, “Argh! I’ve fallen in something!... ARGH! Someone’s grabbing my arse!”. I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically, while trying to protect her from the hoards of men running around. And of course, the power was out everywhere. So we ended up back in the hostel room, shining a torch on her offensively stinking, wet, black foot, and dowsing it in hand sanitizer. I think it’s safe to say (just between you and me), that she had fallen almost knee deep in sewerage.

So after the poo-foot incident, we gathered sickly, sleeping Isaac, and headed out into the masses again to get dinner. At one stage we stood in a busy spot, and the crowd surged again, and I got thrown into three disgruntled elderly Indian men. We waited for the festival to die down, and purchased some 10c street food, served in some newspaper, before finally making it to the Lotus Café for a safehaven dinner. Played connect 4 on big pillows, ate paneer kebabs, and lay about before heading home.

The next day we went to 8am yoga on the rooftop of our hostel (YAY). No time for brekky, and we jumped into an auto rickshaw to take us out of the city, and to the Udaipur Animal Aid Hospital. There we met Trudy, one of the Indian workers there, and Jim, and older American man who started the shelter 10 years ago. Trudy showed us around, and we got to work. Played with delightful three week old puppies who flopped around a cage all day, tended to the amputation wounds of little street dogs, greeted the disabled dogs, gave (much needed) love to the depressing mage-infested dogs. Bathed a teenage donkey with two fractured legs, fed a dying cow (not allowed to be put down in India), watched a cow with a maggot infested wound be brought in and restrained, and generally pretended to be a BADASS VET, ALL DAY. It was simultaneously heart-breaking and uplifting. Had lunch of street samosas among the bewildered locals, and went home late that afternoon totally high on life and determined to switch careers to animal care. Or maybe just come back and volunteer for a couple of months there at the shelter.

That night we went to the sound and light show at Udaipur’s stunning Palace. The highlight was the ridiculously dramatic and historically skewed conversations that the buildings had with one another. Example:

One building lights up and a recording plays, “We must prepare to go to battle, to save the world’s undisputed most historical and beautiful empire!”

Another building lights up, “Yes! You are right young one! And in order to do so, we have to other option but to send all of our city's women into a fiery death. This will show the enemy that we will not give in. All the women believe it is best for everyone. FOR UDAIPUR!”

After the show we went back to the same café and had a lovely long dinner. Prepared to head back out into the desert the next day, to the town of Pushkar.

So I hope that served as a little snapshot into our adventures in an Indian city. Now I sit in a net cafe in Mubai. Shall be here for the next five days before heading south. Bollywood here I come...

On the Road

I sit down to write in a small, hot, dusty internet cafe in Jaisalmer. The fan is probably going to dislodge from the roof and decapitate me soon, so I must be quick. Also the mosquitoes are thirsting after my iron deficient vegetarian blood for some reason and the repellent is nowhere to be found.

So we commenced our road trip through Rajasthan on... Thursday? It is incredible how titles for the days seem ridiculous and so far away. Today as we sat eating lunch we spent around 10 minutes trying to work out what day it is today. Sunday apparently. Anyway I promised not to make this long winded. So we set off with our sweet old driver Channan. My biggest concern apart from Indian roads being somewhat like that of a Mario Cart game, is that Channan is far too old for the journey and may die on us. But he seems like a competent driver, not too crazy, but crazy enough to survive and show other cars who's boss when necessary.

Getting out of Delhi and the 10 hour journey that ensued was pretty incredible. The small towns were sadly all as littered with rubbish as New Delhi is, though the vibe was different immediately. At first we all squealed when we saw a cow casually wandering the roads, or a camel transporting a turban-clad man. But a couple of hours in, and even a naked child riding a pig seemed normal. After a short amount of time I realised the three of us women in the car would be the only ones we would see who did not have their faces covered by saris, and very, very traditional dress. Two hours of the journey was spent climbing in and out of the biggest pot-holes I've ever encountered. The maximum speed during this section was about 20-30km/hour, and by the end of it I wondered how on earth the car would survive the end of the day, let alone the next two weeks. We developed a rotating seat formation for the car journeys, with the front seat passenger making sure to stay awake at all times, and take photos or videos of us whenever we fall asleep in stupid positions. I spent awhile putting a bobbypin in and out of Isaac's nose and wide-open mouth as he snored peacefully.

So we arrived at our first stop, Bikaner, at around 6pm. We had left Delhi early in the morning and Nara and I were hungover from the previous disorienting night of attending one of Delhi's super upmarket clubs. This is an experience I promise I'll write about. Anyway, moral of the story is that we were exhausted and flopped onto our hotel's beds with sheer delight. The hotel there ($5 per night) was one where the auto and taxi driver's obviously get commission for bringing guests to, but had a surprising amount of charm despite this.

That night we roamed the streets for awhile before returning to the hotel's rooftop restaurant and devouring yet another curry. On the street below a wedding procession charged past and fireworks were shot out right next to us (perks of a country were safety standards are as poor as most of the people). This was lovely and special.

Next day... we planned to journey straight to Jaisalmer. Ended up at tiny village, Khuri upon reading amazing things. Our driver became surly after we insisted he take us there, despite his warnings, "no mam, I'll take you to very nice hotel in Jaisalmer. There good price, my friend give you good price. Khuri just poor village, luggage unsafe". Channan obviously didn't have any hotels offering him a commission in Khuri.

We arrived in what looked like a National Geographic "this is how villagers live" photograph. Trampled through some sand to find a guesthouse. Settled on two mud huts in Arjun's Family Guesthouse for $3 per night. Mud walls, thatched roof made of twigs, camel smelling blankets. After a week in Delhi, I can't describe the magic and peace I felt standing there and looking up at the stars. We went next door to the huts that Arjun and his family lives in, and I introduced his five kids to a piano app on my iPhone, and video'd them as they danced and sang for us. No verbal communication between us, and probably one of the most treasured experiences of my life. Dinner then outside the mud huts, cooked by Arjun's very pregnant wife (nameless, and mostly faceless as she stayed in the hut cooking, swaddled in amazing sari). The kids carried it over, with some pride, and some "DAMN THE FAMILY BUSINESS" crossing their faces.

Alas, I've been informed I have only two minutes left of internet. To come...

- Rode camels into the desert
- Slept under the stars in sand dunes
- Drank desert wine and tried homemade onion cigarettes (?)
- All this occurred mere kilometers away from the Pakistan border.
LIKE A BOSS.
- Photos

Mind being blown every day.

India First Impressions

I feel like I've been away for an age.

New Delhi has shown me so much life, I can't believe it's only been a week. What I've been doing:

Got into Delhi and met at the airport by Nara's friend Sam who's on exchange from QUT over here. An emotional meeting for them which was pretty lovely to watch. Sam brought us back to her apartment and we met all the Australians living here. I can barely even remember my first impressions of them because I feel as though I've been friends with them for years. It's funny how travel friendships seem to bond people far more quickly than if you were at home.

So we were staying at their apartment here in Safdarjung Enclave for a few days which had such benefits as:

• Being taken to all the local food spots 
• Meeting Indian uni friends
• Attending university classes
• Witnessing the Aussies be told off for their slackening levels of workmanship over the semester
• BOLLYWOOD PARTY AT THE APARTMENT

Yes this was indeed a highlight. Shopping for Cholis (the midriff bra things that are worn under sarees) and garish jewellery, to wear at the Bollywood party, took us all over the city and into our first awesome bargaining experiences. And then the party (Friday night) was bombdiggity. Sparkly headpieces, cholis, ten bottles of vodka, midriffs and a lot of (incredibly) drunk Indian uni students. In all seriousness - two cups of punch and most of the guests were slurring, yelling and dancing wildly to the Pussycat Dolls' "Jai Ho". And as we found out two days later, vomiting next to the couch (massive scrubbing effort from Nara). That night was a good sleep (on top of the blankets with my shoes still on and five, yes five others, in the bed).

So since then Delhi has shown me various other delights. We checked into a super nice hotel the other day to give the exchange crew a break, and have been experiencing some of the wonders of Indian culture including:

• Many things not working, despite the room and bathroom appearing similar to an Australian 5 star type establishment.
• Power cuts - random and never explained.
• Head bobbles - always.
• The response: "Yes yes yes, absolutely". To EVERYTHING YOU SAY. And then nothing happening. The amount of English understood is surprisingly small. Example:

Us - "Excuse me, could you please turn our hot water on?"

Hotel man - "Yes madam, yes. Yes."

*Ten minute wait. No hot water. Call the hotel man up again.*

Repeat x 5

• Train system failures. Planned trip to the Taj Mahal. Paid for tickets after searching for internet for hours. Got to train station at 5:30am excited for big day. Suffice to say tickets weren't valid, and the issue is still very tender.
• Ultimate contrast of chaos vs order. Eg. road rules do NOT exist, and getting on a train pretty much means bashing down the person next to you while avoiding eye contact, whereas something like going to the movies involves an A4 list of rules such as no handbags, camera phones or anything else COMPLETELY NORMAL TO TAKE TO A MOVIE.

Anyway. So although there has been SO much more I know would be amazing to write about, my head is crammed up today. We went on a walk around the city with some former street children, and visited a sort of orphanage type thing. Sat down with some of the drug addicted Delhi homeless kids and played some games with them. Dichotomy of equally joyous and depressing moments.

ON THURSDAY we're leaving Delhi and heading for the state of Rajasthan to see the cities of Jaipur, Udaipur, Jaisalmer and Pushkar. With a private driver, wow. Somehow this is going to be easier and cheaper than traveling by train so we've pre-booked two weeks with our own car. Then again... thinking about it now the whole thing seems pretty dodgy, and we may well have just spent a whole wad of Rupees on a non-existant driver. Can't process thought of that right now.

SAMPLE PHOTOS:

Contrasting our suspicious Indian street food with ridiculously upper class cafes

Henna in prep for the party

A sample of our alcohol for the party

BOLLYWOOD PARTY TIMES

Before Isaac chundered off the roof

The team at the Lodhi Gardens historic mosque

Our (former street child) tour guide at the orphanage, during our tour today

The kids at the orphanage during class. 

The one on the front left sat like that for the whole class, with this faraway look in his eye, it made me sad.

En Route to India

Well the journey began early Monday morning, when I caught flight #1 to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I find myself traveling with three people who I don't know as best friends, and the four of us have only been in the same location together a handful of times this year. And yet already we find ourselves defining roles within the group and ties with each other that (after just five days together) I have a feeling will be enduring, both through our Indian adventure together and also at home.

So Isaac, Nara, her sister Arika, and I flew into stinking hot KL on Monday afternoon. We burst through the airport doors swaddled in our warm plane clothes, with front packs, back packs and a guitar being passed in between us, into a crowd of men waving tickets at us and urgently requesting we take their mode of transport. We had arrived thoroughly unprepared, with a vague name of a hostel and no idea of its location. So we delineated the cheapest bus into the central city, and settled into the hour long ride.

We arrived to 'KL SENTRAL' and became lost quickly. Thankfully the nearest McDonalds provided a safe haven of free wifi that allowed us to Google the name of the apparently good hostel on our iPhones... ah 21st century travel. But the humid, busy city had at least three separate train systems that seemed to be working against us, leaving us walking up and down the same set of stairs in circles. I think we all felt collectively frustrated, not only that the monorail station we were searching for was so difficult to find, but also that our lack of knowledge of Malaysian language or culture made us a pack of stereotypical Westerners, bleating "UM 'SCUSE ME!" at every official looking person (with very little response). But after what seemed like hours (probably about 20 minutes), we spotted some small signs pointing to the monorail we were searching for. These provided us with the relieving burst of energy that we needed to finally locate the station, purchase some tickets, and throw ourselves onto the clean, air-conditioned monorail seats.

Unfortunately this was only the beginning of the travel Gods showing us how terribly unprepared we were. We walked down what we thought was the correct street for at least a kilometre, searching for the number of 'Bedz' hostel. Got to the end of the street and realised it was the wrong one. Finally found the right street (another burst of energy), and did the same thing. 'BEDZ' HOSTEL DID NOT EXIST.

We stood in the street, dripping with sweat and staring at where number 58 should be. Restaurants, street vendors and retail outlets stood staring back at us. So we stomped into a side street, removed our shoes and accepted the first room offered to us at a poxy looking guesthouse. Paid what seemed reasonable (wasn't reasonable), spent ten minutes explaining that the four of us wanted to be in the same room, watched as the worker attempted to shuffle beds from one room to another, settled with a broom cupboard sized room with only three beds, threw our packs in a pile and removed all of our shirts. Lying in sweaty heaps on the small beds, we resolved that we'd done the best we could.

Dinner was a low key affair. Just a few hours into the trip and we were already ordering salad that was washed in unfamiliar water, justified by the copious amounts of hand sanitiser that we slathered on. After some brief conversation about what we wanted from the trip, showers and clean clothes, we fell into sleep. Mine was clammy and full of strange dreams.

Our one full day in KL saw us journey out to see the Batu Caves. I wont even go into the public transport journey there. Safe to say it was a repeat of walking in circles, timidly asking questions in English to non-English speakers, and waiting at a main road bus stop in full sun for a long, long time. The caves were beautiful though. We had a huge meal served on a banana leaf, by a joyfully grinning man who Arika developed an instant crush on, and all wet our tastebuds with fresh chilli. Then we spent most of the time there adoring the hundreds of wild monkeys who were running about entertaining the tourists and eating the abundance of rubbish left floating around (Aw look, the monkey's sucking sunscreen out of that plastic tube!).

We caught a relieving bus into central, in which the driver actually leant out of the door and beckoned us over, clearly noticing how white and lost we were. Then came another hour of wandering through the intensely busy and alive central markets, searching for the monorail station and receiving candidly contrasting directions from locals. Well we finally located it, found out our best way to get to the airport for our journey early the next morning, and headed back to the hostel. A simple Thai style dinner ensued, over more discussion and planning of our trip. Highlights included creating and designating "officer" roles for the trip, which we decided would rotate daily(ish):

*Group Director - in charge of all transport, timing and general "do this now" type stuff.

*Entertainment and Morale Officer - in charge of assessing group vibe, checking in with everyone and providing entertainment when needed.

*Cultural Officer - responsible for not only making sure we remain respectful of the culture of each place we find ourselves in, but also for providing tidbits of factual information, and handy language.

*Financial and Medication Officer - keeping track of who owes who how much, and reminding us all to take our various medications at appropriate times.

After dinner we decided to responsibly spend our remaining Malaysian currency on Long Island Iced Teas, and get to bed. The 5am wakeup and checkout of our ripoff hostel went smoothly, thanks to our Group Director for the day, Isaac. Unfortunately the boarding of the plane was not so smooth. After all going to the airport bathrooms, Isaac was told that the time was 9:50am, the time our plane left. So he sprinted through customs and security, thinking/hoping we must have already boarded the plane. However, given the time was actually only 9:20am, we then spent twenty minutes searching for him in the shops, until hearing a "FLIGHT TO NEW DELHI, FINAL BOARDING CALL" and freaking out. We raced through immigration and down the tarmac, to find Isaac standing at the steps of the plane, also freaking out. Being the last four passengers to board the plane before taking off, we thanked the travel Gods and settled into our seats for the five hour flight.

Now having been in New Delhi for a few days, I have a whole list of other adventures. But I see that I'm going to have to figure out a way to make this a more succinct travel blog, as I've taken up far too much of your time that could be better spent Facebook stalking. Perhaps I will employ my partners in crime to write the next entry describing our first experiences of India, which have been stunning in every way.

Until then... some sample photos that capture some of the moments described above:

Excitement as we boarded our early morning flight from the Gold Coast:

My travel companions Nara, Arika and Isaac

Sunscreening up in preparation for our Batu Caves visit

Tucking in to our first amazing meal of the trip

Accepting the challenge - to make it up the long staircase and into the caves

Cute monkey enjoys a depressing meal of sunscreen

The cutest of them all

Mother daughter relationship monkey style