Yogi Toast Anyone?

This morning I left Seventh Heaven before dawn and had to step over staff sleeping in the doorway and find the key to the door to get out to the street, which was even quieter than the morning before. I headed for a prominent hill with  a temple on top, intending to be there for sun rise but I was still only half way up by then, and already drenched in perspiration. Nevertheless it was a good walk and a very steep climb that would have been hell at any other time of the day,  but great views from the top. The temple was pretty wretched.

 On the way up I passed a miserable looking fellow scratching out a tune and singing - more screeching than singing really - for his supper. I had ignored him on the way up but coming back I stopped for  a chat and a turn on the instrument and a photo. Further down there was another and then a third, and the quality of music and singing improved with each one till the last  which included three tiny tots all dressed up with turbans and dancing as well. But by then I had given out all my spare cash so didn't feel bold enough to take a photo especially with the parents waiting expectantly for my cash. The kids all begged for "chapati, chapati" and Ive since discovered what  they wanted was for me to buy a box of the powder they make them from.

Its quite incredible to think that these people are not doing this for fun but for survival, and I guess they must make only a few rupees a day - these are the actual people who you read about in United Nations  statistics who survive on less than $US1 per day - thats about 50 rupees I think. One couple in the main bazaar who seemed to be doing rather better were dressed in fearsome multicoloured costumes with bells and the woman beat a drum while the guy leaped all over the place like a demented gymnast and periodically lashed himself with an enormous tapering  red whip. The whip flashed round his body two or three times with a mighty crack and the tip ended up bruising and drawing blood from his upper left arm, around which a bloody tourniquet was wrapped. He was quite an intimidating sight as he thrust himself into the personal space of every person on the street and every shopkeeper, and hardly anyone didnt add to a two inch stack of notes he brandished in his other hand. These guys  (below) are I think whats known as a Sadhu, a monk like character who has renounced worldly things and relies on the Gods to sustain him. In effect they are like beggars but have adopted the moral high ground and maybe as a result their pleas for cash are harder to resist. They are certainly colourful characters.

I bought a loose green shirt and some black trousers for $10 on my way back to the Hotel.. I'm hoping they'll be cooler to wear round than my usual shorts and shirts. I also bought a book called "Eat Pray Love" - on the cover it said it was about a woman going to India after a messy divorce- sounded vaguely familiar- so I thought it might be an interesting read "over 6 million copies sold" And now made into a Major Motion Picture!. So far shes got as far as Italy and I haven't been impressed - she sounds like the sort of woman that would be in the audience of the Oprah Winfrey Show - but maybe something will happen in India.It really is a place full of surprises:

WTF is that supposed to be?

The Missionary Position

My bus trip to Pushkar - such a lovely name - went quickly and wasn't an ordeal at all, though hot as hell in the unairconditioned bus even with the sliding window open. I thought it was funny that the two  german backpackers opposite spent the entire time reading their  German Lonely Planet  Guide to India instead of looking out the window! Mind you it wasn't all that spectacular but every now and again something surprising would flash by - like a camel, or loaded up donkeys,  a strange little temple, or a classic rural scene such as a colourful woman  with cows under a tree, or men peeing onto a wall - whatever!  I had booked my first night at one of the recommended places, "Seventh Heaven" but the only available room was No 1, the most expensive - double what I had paid per night in Jaipur. The Hotel entrance was a huge ancient wooden double door with a tiny door through one into a lovely scented courtyard with a fountain.The staff greeting me were really friendly and pleased i had turned up for their most expensive room., to which I was soon escorted, on the 3rd, and uppermost floor - so it had great views.

I think it would be best described as the Honeymoon Suite as it had a massive  canopied double bed with curtains all round and mirrors, drapes and cushions, a bit like something from the Arabian Nights with a domed ceiling, stained glass lamps and a low recliner, a writing desk and large seperate bathroom. There were even some books, and the one that caught my desperate eye, and perhaps should not have been surprised to see in such a romantic room as this  was "The Missionary Position" . I was  quite excited to see it actually,because I had heard of this book and so I  read most of it while having my dinner in the rooftop restaurant a couple of hours later. There were no pictures or illustrations and sorry to disappoint but its actually a critque by my old friend Christopher Hitchens of the life and work of  Mother Theresa. She's dead now of course but among other things he felt her work needed much more in the way of critical investigation and a lot less hysterical adulation. When she received the Nobel Peace Prize - for having done nothing about peace according to Hitchens - she said the greatest scourge facing mankind was abortion, but of course being seriously catholic she utterly opposed contraception, and didnt seem to see a link between overpopulation and poverty. Indeed according to Hitchens her work was essentially "missionary work " that is spreading the Gospel,  and "the poor" were the vehicle she used to advance the Gospel. She was obviously a good woman but in Hitchens view seriously over-rated.  A good read, believe me!

I had company that night in the Honeymoon suite : mosquitoes! And I was woken by dogs barking and cows bellowing in the street below so I got up early and wandered through the initially almost  deserted streets watching the stalls being opened, people getting food and starting their daily routines, and monkeys. I found the lake edge and the 'ghats" which are broad stairways that descend to the water. Here  hindu people and their families come to be blessed and to pray and bathe in the sacred water. Guide books warn of the scams that also operate here but also suggest participation so eventually I decided to just get on with it and participate in the  ritual. For my "donation - he was suggesting 2000 rupees- a priest prays for me and all my family and our futures, annoints me with water and dabs my forehead with crimson paint, and ties an orange and yellow  string round my wrist - my "passport" he said, so that once done I dont have to go through it again. My "puja" was 500 Rupees - maybe $12?  Plus then I got to take my photos!

After that I went to a rooftop restaurant and had my breakfast overlooking the lake. Amazing views.

PS If you click on the Photos they should open out into a much better pic. In the top one if you do that you will see Monkeys

Off to Pushkar

Jaipur has almost as many people as  the whole of NZ - apparently nearly 3.5 million but it feels like a provincial town. The CBD seems to be  MI Road - you say it like " MI5 " but it looks more like a busy street in an industrial park with noise and dust everywhere and tons of  traffic. I had lunch there on Wednesday at the Copper Chimney Restaurant as recommended by LP. and it was very nice food ($12) but the exterior looked awful and the interior was worn out and grubby but I think thats the way things usually are. It was airconditioned which made it a great spot to sit in comfort and watch the traffic go by.

 I spent about 550 rupees on the lunch so couldn't really grizzle when the  Autorickshaw guy outside afterwards wanted 600 rupees to take me 11km to the Amber Fort and back. There were lots of induian tourists and school groups there, and I had my photo taken numerous times by young men who liked my hat - this has been happening since i arrived.  The Fort was massive and quite an amazing mix of huge courtyards and tiny rooms and narrow interconnecting passages, often with  a patterned grill covering a window.

The Water Palace

Another surprise: large groups of pigs foraging among the rubbish on the streets - I saw dozens and dozens of them on the way back from the fort.  Had a good nights sleep and today getting the bus to Pushkar, a much smaller town on a  lake, about 4 hours from here. The Bus will be interesting.

The Bollywood Experience

After breakfast yesterday I left the Hotel and walked up the street into a camel coming out of a private driveway. It was pulling a cart full of building material. The owner/driver said its name was Kamal.  This morning there were 5 cows sitting at an intersection just along from where the camel was yesterday so I suppose tomorrow it will be a tiger or an elephant. You have to love this place!

Today I am heading into town to look at the shops and go to a recommended restaurant for lunch and then later to Amber Fort. Yesterday I was going to the Bus station for my ticket to Pushkar  - the usual tussle with the autorickshaw man for a price, the usual tusle with the beggar for some money, and also  as usual, very helpful people in the Bus Station making sure I got the right ticket and offering to show me the  correct platform when I come back tomorrow for the trip. Outside again, the Beggar girl was sitting in the dust smiling at the Policeman who had a nasty looking heavy stick in his hand and he was speaking sternly to the girl but she just kept smiling. I think he wanted to stop her annoying me but I smiled at him and said she wasn't. So then the next sentence was "Where you from..?" and you know the rest! Mind you he didnt have anything to sell, or much time to chat as he headed off before I did!

After that I headed for my Bollywood experience. The LP (Lonely Planet) said if you are going to see a Bollywood movie while in India, THE theater to watch one is the Raj Mandir off MI Road in Jaipur so thats where I went. My ticket was for the 1230 show - its so hot here I decided this was the best time to be indoors - and cost 150 Rupees which is about  $3.50. I was an hour early and there was a plague of child beggars who soon enough depleted all my loose change but still they wouldnt leave me alone so I retreated into the nearby McDonalds . My pack was scanned by the Guard at the door, and I sat reading the newspaper with a small Coke and  McAloo Tikki - which I think was a vegetarian burger and quite tasty. Next thing the kids are tapping on the window beside me!

So off I went to this extraordinary movie theatre that was vast and richly and ornately over-decorated inside, but really wonderful to see. My seat was upstairs - probably 90% were downstairs and much cheaper, - very luxurious and comfortable though very worn, and right at the front so I had a perfect view. The movie - "Dabangg" -  was in Hindi of course, no subtitles and I missed a few of the jokes but overall I got the story worked out - sibling rivalry, greed and treachery, love interests, wild chases and brawls with lots of smashed furniture and huge panes of glass shattered, ripped shirts and "six packs", brooding looks, scowls of anger, tears and rage, shooting and missing the goodguys and baddies  going down by the score, massive explosions ,sultry  dark eyed women and of course the dancing and singing which was really wonderful. Obviously hugely enjoyable by all as attested by audience screams and shouts throughout. It was a three hour  experience with an intermission for drinks and popcorn but also huge cream-filled pieces of sponge cake,and spicy samosas and a round flat fried thing with spicy onion mixture inside that I enjoyed.. That was such fun.

No sign of the beggar kids when I went back outside and caught a cycle rickshaw to a glistening white Temple. A cycle rickshaw is a 3 wheeled pushbike with an extra - and  wider - seat and canopy on the back. They're great for shortish trips as they are slow and quiet. The driver wasnt sure where I wanted to go so I directed him down the streets using the LP Map! - wasn't sure how accurate the map would be but it worked perfectly!  Autorickshaws are the ones called tuktuks elsewhere, three wheels but a motorbike engine at the back and noisy but quicker. I got one of these to take me back to the Hotel for 50 Rupees : $1.25. For dinner I had one beer, Cumin Rice and whole baked tomatoes stuffed with cheese and swimming in a lovely spicy sauce. That was about $5. 

All the Indians were thrilled about beating Australia by One Wicket - theyre calling it The Miracle at Mohali! - but there doesnt appear to be that much interest in the Games.

"Hello my friend"

Yesterday, my first day in Jaipur - which is the capital city of the state of Rajasthan - started off with a headache because I had been sitting all the previous afternoon with my head turned to the left looking out the train window. Three Nurofen Plus fixed that in no time and after two poached eggs and "Jam Toast -4 slices" plus coffee I walked out onto the dusty street and negotiated a fare on an "auto-rickshaw/tuktuk into the old city. It cost $1.50  for the ride in these rickety three wheelers and I was dropped off at the gate through the old city wall with my LP open at the walking tour of the old city. It recommended taking 3-4 hours but it took me 6. My first encounter was with a troupe of 3 child beggars, all terribly scruffy and covered in dust, ages between 6 and 10, and of course wanting money but putting on a remarkable little display of acrobatics. One was bashing out a loud exciting rhythm on a little drum while the other two did backward somersault and  handstands and strange contortionist tricks including threading themselves through a tiny steel hoop. Another similar group I saw later specialized in dancing on stilts and a boy about 4 had a thick mustache and beard drawn on his filthy face with a felt tip pen and wore a cap that had a string on top that he could make spin round like a helicopter blade.

Most beggars just come right up to you and beg - they are usually women with a small baby or young children - and if I have small change I give them something. The problem them is that a swarm of other beggars then appear and expect the same thing - which makes it difficult if I dont have any loose change left. Then I might give them my water or whatever I might be eating , but usually I just have to walk off . I've heard people say that giving them money just encourages them, but I dont see that they have any other option. I'm never going to be able to make any real difference to their long term prospects but I like to think that at least that day willl be easier if I give them a few rupees. 

I followed the Walking tour guide through all the markets, and wherever things were for sale that tourists might buy I was under constant assault. The encounter goes like this :

 He: "Hello my friend where you from"

Me  "New Zealand" ( or sometimes if I dont like the look of the guy "Australia")

He " Aaah New Zealand - Great cricket team yes? Auckland? Wellington? 

Me " Auckland"

He " How long in India?"

Me " 1 week"

He "OK, one week, First time in India?"

Me "Yes ist time"

He " How you like India?"

Me "Very hot "

He " welcome in my shop, you like shirt, watch...free to look" etc etc

And then the hard sell takes over and in the end I just say OK thanks and walk off into the dusty crowded bazaar.  

 Sweet Shop

Street colour

I said in an earlier blog the difference between this place and others Ive visited, apart from the cows, was one of degree. I still think this is true but the difference is actually huge. Everything is just about a whole quantum  greater in degree whether it be in noise or dust, poverty or filth, colour and variety, and even the architecture is something else again. It really is fantastic here.

 I climbed this tower on Monday afternoon.

I came here for two nights but I am staying four, and on Thursday I go to Pushkar. I am hogging the internet at the moment theres a swarm of Spanish backpackers all round changing money and trying to book trains and generally distracting me so I shall write more in the morning. 

The Oldest Tricks in the Book

Just down the road from Vivek Hotel 

I went late on Saturday to Hamayuns Tomb 

As a special treat, Fakir Chand the attendant on the First Floor  at the Vivek Hotel  took me for a ride on the back of his motor scooter. I had been wandering the back streets around the hotel yesterday morning, just watching what was going on when I recognised him. I had been watching street vendors - one frying up naan bread (?) and another giving a guy a shave as he squatted in the dust . As he shaved the cream and whiskers off he wiped the blade on the back of his forearm so he had a growing mass of whiskers and cream sliding down towards his elbow. Fakir was waiting for a pharmacy to open, along with the guy he was chatting to and several women and a girl squatting silently on the ground. Later back at the hotel I hopped on the scooter with him and we shot up the street, a wild weaving and dodging and tooting sort of ride and eventually got to his destination, a sort of butchery. What a treat! It was  a very hot day, dry and dusty and the tiny kiosk was on the edge of a  busy concrete roundabout, dust and cars and noise everywhere. Ghastly looking almost featherless chickens  were crammed into tiny cages, and hanging from the roof were the skinned carcasses of what they call mutton but which are goats. There were flies and feathers and muck everywhere, and a horrible smell. The  miserable chooks  would be selected  by shoppers, hauled out by their wings and have their throats nonchalantly slit and swiftly thereafter  plucked and chopped up and put into a plastic bag. Certainly fresh - but somehow I think I'll go veg from now on.

I returned to my room and packed everything up, filled up on water and headed out looking for a ride to the Station. The first tuktuk driver wanted R400 so I carried on up the street and found another guy who charged R100. It was a good ride and we went past the Red Fort and a few Temples and old city Gates and what-have-you to get to the Old Delhi Station, unsurprisingly massively crowded and busy.

Wandering the streets outside - I had allowed myself tons of time - I saw the usual beggars and squalor and a man either dead or near dead, covered in flies. Back on the platform  I met a couple of Kiwi girls, waiting for the same train, heading to Jaipur and the same Hotel, but they were getting into a different carriage. I ended up in a pleasant airconditioned carriage with 4 others  - an Indian Geriatrician and practitioner of some sort of spiritual meditation - but he wanted to talk about endometrial cancer, a couple from the UK doing the Golden Triangle circuit - which is Delhi- Jaipur-Agra( Taj Mahal) and a young Indian middle manager who was reading a book called "The Ten Management Disasters of Unsuccesful Business Practice" - or some such! He was a lovely guy, just coming back from a visit to Nepal and had been on the train 30 hours and had another 30 to go!. It took 6 hours to get to Jaipur and the journey was fun. It was great to get out of Delhi and see some green fields and wildlife. At Jaipur station the TukTuk driver took us to his preferred Hotel after "ringing" our one and saying it was full. This is the Oldest trick in the Book - so we borrowed his phone, rang our place ourselves and they came and got us.

For the next few days I will be here at Krishna Palace,  www.krishnapalace.com  - have a look : its a charming restful place with delightful Hosts. Its about $30 per night. Should be good - and BTW no Delhi Belly so far!

Learning the Ropes

I woke in the middle of my first night in Old Delhi and looking up saw a million stars and a crescent moon. This suprised me because I had gone to bed in Room 101 of the Vivek Hotel. a room on the first of three floors distinguished by having no windows, an aircon unit that didnt work and a very noisy overhead fan, but also as I now realised, thousands of luminous stars stuck to the ceiling. If I hadnt been so hot and sticky it would have been magic.

The day began in KL, and the usual transit rituals of checking in, security screens, airline food and eventual passage into the arrival hall at the new Indira Gandhi Airport, spotting the man with my name displayed almost immediately and squeezing into his tiny  van for the trip to Vivek. On the way I saw my first cow, a large white one sitting in the narrow medium strip between four lanes eithert side of  an  horrendously congezted noisey and dusty freeeway. How on earth it got there, and manage to look quite content was beyond me. On reflection the cows have been the particular feature that for me makes this place different from all other such places I have been in the world. 

The heat and dust, the noise, the colour,the beggars, the hustlers, the crowds, the poverty the stink from urinals - where do the women pee?- and the sweet smells from spice stalls and streetfood vendors - these are all here and though distinctly different, distinctly Indian, there is a quality that places like this share everywhere there is such overcrowding and poverty. But nowehere are there cows like these - they appear it seems anywhere and just wander the streets. I stopped to watch several at one busy intersection - one with quite large horns walked up to lick my empty coke bottle, and then wandered on. A man emerged from a stall and tipped a container full of what looked like rice in front of the cow who then licked it up and noved on. People mostly ignored them, and likewise the cows were totally accustomed to all the noise and jostle,which believe me is intense.I have yet to visit and of the "sites" but for njow am just getting used to the place. Theres plenty of time.

For the people trying to get the place tidied up for the games however- and theyre everywhere painting and laying paths, scraping up rubbish and planting shrubs and finishing off raillines and the Airport - its too late. Much is incomplete, and tomorrow the Commonwealth Games begin but I am going to Jaipur. I  spoke to the guy in the hotel travel agency about a train ticket and he wanted me to get a driver and book a freelance tour of the region for three weeks- absolutely everything taken care of, my own driver and personal guide for about $1000. It was tempting because by then I already had experienced the hassles - the extremely frustrating and intensely annoying hassles of trying to get from A to B on my own. And in the 32degree heat. But I had previously decided I would just go from town to town and not be bound to a timetable. So today I decided to try and get a train ticket for myself. The Lonely Planet guide gave explicit instructions to go to the Overseas Tourist Office at the main station, amd not be deflected by anyone  who got in your way no matter what they said so I did just that but there was no such Office on the first floor! A helpful man explained it had just been shifted because of the Games and directed me to a Taxi which would take me to it for 10R which is not nuch so I went. But it was a scam of course. So using the map I walked in the dust and heat from the back street office i had been dumped at and finally found my way to the opposite side of the railline and found the office and got the ticket - its a five hour journey for about 10 dollars - but I think in a cheap and crowded carriage. getting that tickett  sounds simple but it took about three hours. It felt like a minor victory...well no a major one actually. I think I might survive after all!