tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25084639649606074242024-03-13T12:23:59.355-07:00Cliff and Cathy in Northern India 2008Daily blog of our Trip to Northern India November of 2008. Trip organized through Santa Fe Weaving Gallery.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-83877484660230993572008-12-01T07:21:00.000-08:002008-12-01T07:31:28.214-08:00Last Day in India<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQCmD39ZfI/AAAAAAAADGo/jm071Qq-f9Q/s1600-h/IMG_5261.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQCmD39ZfI/AAAAAAAADGo/jm071Qq-f9Q/s400/IMG_5261.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274843916455994866" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQClR0AiWI/AAAAAAAADGg/T0jCtfZP8L0/s1600-h/IMG_5259.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQClR0AiWI/AAAAAAAADGg/T0jCtfZP8L0/s400/IMG_5259.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274843903017650530" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQClANb84I/AAAAAAAADGY/80Aiw3TIs1g/s1600-h/IMG_5258.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQClANb84I/AAAAAAAADGY/80Aiw3TIs1g/s400/IMG_5258.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274843898292466562" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQCkz4oMAI/AAAAAAAADGQ/-YsDCUMnjMU/s1600-h/IMG_5265.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STQCkz4oMAI/AAAAAAAADGQ/-YsDCUMnjMU/s400/IMG_5265.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274843894983962626" /></a><br /><br />Out last day in Delhi. Went shopping. Had a massage.<br />Leave at 3am in the morning for Germany then LA.<br />We LOVE India!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-74456547004345843742008-11-30T19:46:00.000-08:002008-11-30T20:56:30.819-08:00Dancing in The Streets at a Wedding<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cUoFbT5R_s0&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cUoFbT5R_s0&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Click arrow to Play the Movie with Sound!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-51637314381045796402008-11-30T11:50:00.000-08:002008-11-30T12:01:53.617-08:00Here Comes the Groom!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwYhKb1SI/AAAAAAAADE0/vGXsN9m5sCI/s1600-h/IMG_5190.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwYhKb1SI/AAAAAAAADE0/vGXsN9m5sCI/s400/IMG_5190.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274542417613935906" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwYD5TfdI/AAAAAAAADEs/OWPyavwP1Ms/s1600-h/IMG_5215.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwYD5TfdI/AAAAAAAADEs/OWPyavwP1Ms/s400/IMG_5215.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274542409757457874" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwXXVbr_I/AAAAAAAADEk/04zEH_dyesY/s1600-h/IMG_5228.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwXXVbr_I/AAAAAAAADEk/04zEH_dyesY/s400/IMG_5228.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274542397795839986" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwWL4hL7I/AAAAAAAADEc/wHiYv9BnLC8/s1600-h/IMG_5234.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwWL4hL7I/AAAAAAAADEc/wHiYv9BnLC8/s400/IMG_5234.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274542377541906354" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwU_GVLKI/AAAAAAAADEU/dESwzRbPFMs/s1600-h/IMG_5248.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLwU_GVLKI/AAAAAAAADEU/dESwzRbPFMs/s400/IMG_5248.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274542356930309282" /></a><br />We started out from the hotel and ask the concierge to arrange a car and driver for us for the day, so that we could get around town easily. It was Sunday and the stores are closed but the museums are open.<br /><br />The concierge said he would get a car for us, that we if anything happened they could trace us. Not exactly reassuring, but as the man said: “Worry is not a Solution”. He drove us to near the Red Fort. For security concerns he couldn’t leave us right at the front of this massive structure. The driver then arranged for a pedal rickshaw to drive us to the entrance to the Red Fort where he would wait for us to then drive us back to the waiter driver and car. We felt weird having hired two separate drivers at the same time (the car driver for the day and the rickshaw driver for the 1 ½ we were in the Red Fort but that is they way they do it in India. You can live large for about 2 dollars an hour!<br /><br />The Red Fort as you can probably guess is made of red sandstone. Its walls appear to stretch on forever. We are very familiar with the history of the fort from our readings. It brought it alive to see it in person. It was built by the same emperor who built the Taj Mahal (among other things). He was a busy builder. The Mughal emperors ruled from this fort until the British overthrew then in 1857. We hired a great guide in the Fort and he was able to explain lots of things that we would have missed.<br /><br />From there we went to the Craft Museum. It is a project of the Indian Government to preserve Native crafts. There is an absolutely huge display of textiles, the largest that we have ever seen. There were rooms full of huge wooden carvings, outside there was a craft market. It was well worth the visit. Unfortunately they don’t appear to have a catalog.<br /><br />From there we returned to the hotel. After a light snack and a drink I had a massage and Cathy had a facial. We then went out to dinner. We thought we would go to a high end restaurant but the concierge convinced us to go to a restaurant in Old Delhi that served Kashmiri food. It was very good and not expensive. It was definitely a good tip. We had a different driver for the night and he waited for us while we ate.<br /><br />We then asked him to take us back to the Taj. We had only gone a few blocks and I saw a man on white horse being preceded by two rows of 10 men each carrying lit electric candelabras on their head. Each row of men was followed by an electric generator on wheels to give the candelabras electricity. They were preceded by a large band dressed like a high school marching band. People were dancing in the streets! Fireworks were being set off. It meant only one thing: Indian Wedding!<br /><br />I told the driver to stop the car, Cathy was reluctant but we both got out and started taking some pictures. Then we started to dance! Then we were pulled along and asked to join the procession. Then we were invited into the wedding. Then we were being photographed with the groom. Then Cathy was dancing with 20 men. Then I joined and she was dancing with 21 men. Then they were hugging us, asking where we were from, asking if we had ever been to an Indian wedding, insisting we drink, we eat, we dance. We were exhausted and soaked from dancing. It was amazing. You would have thought we were long lost cousins. Everyone was hugging us, shaking our hands, etc. There must have been 150 guests (of all ages from kids to oldsters). Bhangra (Indian dance music) was playing loudly and everyone was pulsating to the music. About an hour and half later our driver came in, and we thought it was best to go! The one thing (other than the Bhang Lossi) that I was determined to do on this trip was go to an Indian Wedding! It was all that we could have imagined and more!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-78886509695537891492008-11-30T11:33:00.000-08:002008-11-30T11:42:21.455-08:00Feeding Thousands and Back to the Taj<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsOGMw8XI/AAAAAAAADEM/1swt5F4xKRs/s1600-h/IMG_5158.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsOGMw8XI/AAAAAAAADEM/1swt5F4xKRs/s400/IMG_5158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274537840530747762" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsNunrFrI/AAAAAAAADEE/qyxrG5l8NsU/s1600-h/IMG_5123.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsNunrFrI/AAAAAAAADEE/qyxrG5l8NsU/s400/IMG_5123.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274537834201159346" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsNQxsagI/AAAAAAAADD8/0Ep1sKUJyPs/s1600-h/IMG_5107.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsNQxsagI/AAAAAAAADD8/0Ep1sKUJyPs/s400/IMG_5107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274537826190125570" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsM1I9NaI/AAAAAAAADD0/YtKx7ZzyBe0/s1600-h/IMG_5082.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsM1I9NaI/AAAAAAAADD0/YtKx7ZzyBe0/s400/IMG_5082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274537818771502498" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsMgvN98I/AAAAAAAADDs/z8ZN4OnAFgI/s1600-h/IMG_5077.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STLsMgvN98I/AAAAAAAADDs/z8ZN4OnAFgI/s400/IMG_5077.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274537813294839746" /></a><br />Fortress Taj<br /><br />We awoke and had a minimal breakfast at our hotel in Amritsar. We then headed out. Our guide said for an extra 250 rupees he would take us to a Hindu Cave Temple named Ujya Mata Lal Devi. We said sure (remember a rupee is worth about 2 cents). The Hindu Temple was a fun marvel. It was made of Plaster of Paris. There were all kinds of water features. You had to craw through a tunnel with water running in it. You had to stoop low and go through entrances that couldn’t have been more than 2 feet high. At any rate once you were inside it was all shrines and mirrored walls ceilings and paintings. It was a trip. We really liked it. This is one of those experiences in India that you have to just let happen, no description does justice to it. It is very devout Hindu meets the ultimate East LA kitsch. We all felt this Hindu Temple was well worth the detour.<br /><br />From there we went back to the Golden Temple to experience it in the daytime. No one in Amritsar goes hungry. They feed anyone one who is hungry for free at the Golden Temple. All of the kitchen staff are volunteers. They must serve thousands of people a day there. We went all through the giant kitchens and watched the Rube Goldberg devises that make thousands of Chapattis and Naan. It smelled great from the onions, spices and garlic. We don’t know much about Sikh’s but they seem real cool to us! We saw men bathing in the Holy Pool. Sikh’s always must carry a dagger. They are even allowed to carry them on Indian Airlines!<br /><br />From there we went to the airport and flew back to Delhi. We said goodbye to Ferris and Courtney. We were picked up by a chauffeured driver and a Mercedes for our ride to the Taj Hotel. It was Election Day in Delhi. All of the shops were closed. There was very little traffic. The Taj is set on large grounds and is a relatively new hotel. It is now protected like a fortress. The security was much more evident then at the other Taj Ambassador that we checked out of 2 days ago.<br /><br />We have never seen such security. We were very happy to see it – although we feel no fear in Delhi. The car, a Taj Mercedes, was searched for bombs. The driver who the guards must know was identified. They have a luggage scanner like at an airport at the entrance to the hotel and all our luggage and hand carries had to go through it. They made me turn on my camera so they could check it. We were then frisked and wanded. Finally we were admitted to the hotel. The hotel is exceptional. We were taken directly to our room where a butler, checked us in. Anything we wanted was available. I purchased a CD of Sikh music and we didn’t have a way to play it in the room. I contacted the butler and soon a man arrived who installed a CD player in the room. They are all solicitous and especially touched when we said we had stayed at the Taj Mumbai, 10 days ago.<br /><br />We had drinks and prepared for dinner.<br /><br />We asked for a recommendation for dinner and they suggested a great restaurant in downtown Delhi (not that far from the hotel). It is named Veda. They arranged for a convey of vehicles for us to go there. We were driven in a different chauffeured Mercedes and followed by a taxi. The Taxi would wait for us until we were finished with dinner and were ready to return to the hotel. Nice touch! The dinner was exceptional. Next to us was an Indian couple that was currently living in the US. We spent most of the dinner talking to them. They shared their views in a very open way about India and America. We really enjoyed it.<br /><br />We left the restaurant and our Taxi was waiting for us. We then returned to the Taj and after going through security prepared for bed. It was a great day.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-6828989108499910752008-11-29T03:37:00.000-08:002008-11-29T04:01:03.734-08:00From The Ridiculous to the Sublime<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuIdkwJZI/AAAAAAAADCc/2eE8wjAJ92Q/s1600-h/IMG_5043.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuIdkwJZI/AAAAAAAADCc/2eE8wjAJ92Q/s400/IMG_5043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274047361540171154" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuIJu2aGI/AAAAAAAADCU/z72FXY1D2z4/s1600-h/IMG_5039.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuIJu2aGI/AAAAAAAADCU/z72FXY1D2z4/s400/IMG_5039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274047356213815394" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuH2CPWkI/AAAAAAAADCM/6oJU_6VAd7A/s1600-h/IMG_4996.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuH2CPWkI/AAAAAAAADCM/6oJU_6VAd7A/s400/IMG_4996.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274047350926432834" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuHjfvItI/AAAAAAAADCE/VSEnOPIkoCI/s1600-h/IMG_4985.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuHjfvItI/AAAAAAAADCE/VSEnOPIkoCI/s400/IMG_4985.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274047345949876946" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuHDhiinI/AAAAAAAADB8/L3t9x2l14XU/s1600-h/IMG_4965.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/STEuHDhiinI/AAAAAAAADB8/L3t9x2l14XU/s400/IMG_4965.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274047337367505522" /></a><br /><br />We checked out of the Taj in Delhi and headed to the airport to fly to Amritsar. The Terrorism in Mumbai surprisingly was still continuing. We had a guide whose only job was to navigate us thru the airport or train station. We talked about what was happening, and he said in a very sincere way: “Worry is not a solution”. We liked his attitude. We boarded our propjet and flew to Amritsar which is located 28 Kilometers from the Pakistan Border. The security was very evident to us. We were repeatedly frisked at the airport.<br /><br />We arrived at Amritsar about 1:30 pm and went to our hotel. We prepared for our visit to the Border. The border is fixed exactly half way between Lahore Pakistan and Amritsar India. We drove the 28 Kilometers to the border. One of the distinctive aspects of Amritsar is the water tanks on the top of houses. These tanks provide for water storage and pressure. The people here create decorative water tanks. Very strange! We saw huge water tanks that look like a soccer ball, others like giant birds, another like a jet plane, all sitting on the roof of the house.<br />Whatever!<br /><br />There were armed soldiers and checkpoints along the way. We eventually arrived at the border. We parked our jeep and started to walk with the hoards towards the gate.<br /><br />Trucks were backed up for kilometers, parked by the side of the road. Each truck will be completely emptied and searched for contraband then reloaded. When we arrived at the border, we ushered towards VIP seats. Think of bleachers at a football stadium. They are quite steep, with thousands of places to sit. One set of these bleachers are in India, a similar set of bleachers are in Pakistan. The bleachers face each other, with the border between them.<br /><br />Four wars have been fought between the two countries since 1947. They are still firing at each other in Kashmir. The Pakistanis are considered to be behind the Mumbai terrorism. These people hate each other. The Indians incidentally are resentful of the US because of our backing of Pakistan. So what happens every night at this border crossing?<br /><br />On both sides of the border loud Bollywood and Bhangra dance music are playing. The Indians are dancing in the street in front of the border gate. They are pulsating to the music. Indian flags are being waved by the crowd. On the Pakistan side, Pakistani music is playing and they are dancing and running around waving Pakistan flags. The Indian Border Guards are wearing funny hats and strutting around. They are very high kickers – they kick up higher then their heads. The dancers are eventually cleared from the area between the two countries.<br /><br />Alternatively high kicking Indian Border Guards march up to the border and strut their stuff. Cheers come up from the Indian, bleachers. But wait. The Pakistanis are booing. The loud speaker starts with pro-India chants. The Pakistanis are drowned out. Oh no. A high kicking Pakistani comes to the border and outdoes the Indian. The Pakistani is more Macho than the Indian. What to do? Two high stepping Border Guards march towards the gate and show them. The crowd cheers louder. Indians have more testosterone then the Pakistanis. Here comes the Pakistanis back with a double kick – take that Indian. Boy can they kick. It is like the musical Chorus Line combined with Busby Berkley but played with guns as props. Maybe it is like half time at a high school football game in Texas if all of the cheer leaders were men in uniform wearing fan-like hats. At any rate, by mutual agreement it must have been declared a draw, the flags are lowered. The Pakistan and Indian Solders salute each other. The gate is slammed shut and locked for the night, and these high kickers can go back to their barracks and then start killing each other. The very happy crowds head back home. It is surrealistic. If they can do this every night, why can’t they get along?<br /><br />From this ridiculous but entertaining ceremony, we headed back to Amritsar from the border, driving through many small villages. We drove into the Old City of Amritsar (narrow lanes, stalls, vendors, etc.) and arrived at our destination: The Golden Temple. It was dark by now. The Golden Temple is set in the middle of the old city and from the street looks nothing special. We had to remove our shoes and sox to enter. Everyone including me had to cover their heads with scarves. No hair could show. The Golden Temple is the spiritual home of the Sikhs. We then had to wash our hands and walk through water to cleanse our feet. Finally you walk thru an entry and into the complex.<br /><br />It is overwhelming. I would guess it is the size of two football fields, placed next to each other. It is completely filled with water and surrounded by a marble walkway. You can walk around the water. In the center of the water sits the Golden Temple. 3 stores high it is entirely covered in gold. It is reflected in the water. The Golden Temple is connected to the walkway by a narrow causeway. We really don’t know much about the Sikh religion but they are welcoming to all of us. The Gold is reflected everywhere. Sacred music is played by a group and is broadcast in high-fidelity. The music is all live and the performers play and sing 20 hours a day. Unlike many temples and religions where only the priest class is allowed into the inner sanctum, anyone can go. So we walked down the causeway in the middle of the water into the Golden Temple, it is the heart of the Sikh religion. We are instructed to hold our hands in prayerful contemplation. On the first floor the singers and musicians are playing. On the second floor there is a continuous reading of the sacred texts. On the 3rd floor roof there is another continuous reading and vistas across the water. The sound of the music is transforming. It is very soothing. We walked back across causeway, and sat down by the water gazing at The Golden Temple. We were then ready to leave, but expect to return tomorrow morning.<br /><br />We then went to a Punjabi restaurant. Our only request of the guide was it must serve real Punjabi food and it must serve wine. We arrived and ordered a large dinner. We then requested wine from our waiter. We were told they only serve Vodka or Beer. I called the manager over and asked about wine. He said “no problem”. Do we want Red or White, Indian or French. We said both a Bottle of Red and a bottle of White, French. He said he would send someone out to procure them. Soon they arrived on our table. The food was excellent, as was the wine. We then returned to our hotel wondering what tomorrow morning will bring. We have a 1:30pm flight to Delhi tomorrow.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-46295119168809049712008-11-27T09:48:00.000-08:002008-11-29T04:03:38.598-08:00Walking in Gandhi's Foot Steps<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fUQgNl4I/AAAAAAAADBE/ANAErU8Fb9g/s1600-h/IMG_4914.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fUQgNl4I/AAAAAAAADBE/ANAErU8Fb9g/s400/IMG_4914.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273397752817883010" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fT9cK1dI/AAAAAAAADA8/fvAbrQtp7X8/s1600-h/IMG_4912.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fT9cK1dI/AAAAAAAADA8/fvAbrQtp7X8/s400/IMG_4912.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273397747700651474" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fTsw5VHI/AAAAAAAADA0/hGVPb1SgT8M/s1600-h/IMG_4907.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fTsw5VHI/AAAAAAAADA0/hGVPb1SgT8M/s400/IMG_4907.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273397743224181874" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fTKPhVsI/AAAAAAAADAs/an4xLjM2C4s/s1600-h/IMG_4891.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fTKPhVsI/AAAAAAAADAs/an4xLjM2C4s/s400/IMG_4891.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273397733957392066" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fS1_bJcI/AAAAAAAADAk/cydG5dpxqdo/s1600-h/IMG_4875.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS7fS1_bJcI/AAAAAAAADAk/cydG5dpxqdo/s400/IMG_4875.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273397728521168322" /></a><br /><br /><br />We had been up late watching the news from Mumbai. It was very freaky to us as we had just left staying at the Taj about 10 days ago. The security there was lax. They had closed and locked the main entrance to the Heritage wing and we had to enter via the new tower wing. We kept saying to ourselves: “Why the increase in security”? To enter the Taj you had to go through a metal detector and hand your backpack or any packages to a screener. We all thought it was kind of a joke. They really didn’t screen us very well. None of the security personnel was armed. The terrorists entered the Harbor Bar, and started shooting the patrons. We had a drink there with Elizabeth on our last trip.<br /><br />At any rate we needed to decide whether we would feel comfortable traveling to the border of Pakistan to visit the Golden Temple and see the Evening Ceremony. We decided to go. Hopefully you will get a further blog describing the events in the State of Punjab, enshalla.<br /><br />In Delhi, we went first to the Tomb of Humayun’s. He was the 2nd Mughal Emperor. Cathy and I were very keen to see this site. We had read and enjoyed “The Last Mughal” by William Darwymple. It is the history of the how the Mughal Empire came to an end in 1857, when after the revolt by the Indians against the Empire was ruthlessly destroyed by the British. The Emperor escaped from his palace at the Red Fort where thousands were killed and hid out with his two sons at Humayun’s Tomb where he was captured by the British. His sons were eventually killed, and he was exiled to Burma where 5 years later he died.<br /><br />I don’t know what we were expecting, but we were very pleasantly surprised. The Tomb is designed very much like the Taj Mahal. It is supposed to be a replica of Heaven on Earth. You go through several huge decorative gates, each followed by a large garden. As you walk through these gardens, you do not see the tomb until you pass through the final gate. When I use the word gate I am talking about a gigantic decorated structure, not a simple garden gate. Passing through the gate you reach the Tomb which is magnificent but unlike the Taj Mahal. In the center of the building is the Marble Tomb, aligned North to South as all Muslim Graves, with his face turned towards the East to Mecca.<br /><br />There was increased security, throughout Delhi, we felt quite safe. Many buildings have police or soldiers with guns at their entrance. We really like Delhi and will return. Capital cities always seem to be able to get a lot of money to spend from the government.<br /><br />We then went to Gandhi Smriti. This is the house and garden where Gandhi was assassinated. If only Gandhi’s non-violent ideas had prevailed! The house and gardens are a pilgrimage site. Gandhi was against the partition of India by the British. He wanted one nation. He was against the creation of Pakistan, where so many of our woes come from. Partition caused great dislocations of people when the Hindus went south to India and the Muslims went North or East to either East Pakistan or West Pakistan. Millions died on route or were murdered. Delhi was especially bad, with rioting and killings between Hindus and Muslims. Calling for peace, Gandhi returned to Delhi to try to reconcile the groups. When he realized that he could not stop the creation of Pakistan he called for giving Pakistan large amounts of money to assist the country. That is what caused right wing Hindus to assassinate him at this place. They have created a very effective and moving memorial. You start at the small house he was living in. You then follow is actual footsteps towards the spot where he was going for his evening prayer. Along the walk there are quotations from Gandhi. When you read these quotations they seem Biblical in their truthfulness and universality. Eventually the footsteps end at the spot he was killed and there is a simple stone. If only the footsteps had continued. It was very moving to be there, especially as the terrorism continued. We talked to several people along the way. One Indian, said like almost all Indians we have met: Why does America back Pakistan? They can’t understand our favoring Pakistan over India. They all feel Pakistan is a completely failed, dangerous country. By the way, since partition, not one Pakistan President has completed their term in office. They have all been either killed or overthrown.<br /><br />We then went to President House. This huge governmental complex looks like it was plucked out of London and set down in Delhi with a few Muslim / Hindu architectural domes and flourishes added. There was lots of security.<br /><br />From there we were ready to shop. We went to a very chic shopping area: Santushti. It is built on an Air Force Base in the middle of Delhi, so we felt quite safe! We had lunch, and I could tell there would be some serious shopping. Across the road, past the sandbags with soldiers with machine guns, was a large hotel. I went for a massage while shopping progressed.<br /><br />We planned to meet for a drink after the massage and shopping, but we found out to our dismay that there was an election coming up the next day, and no alcohol could be bought in Delhi. The bars were closed. We returned in panic to our hotel. The bar there was also closed. We all went to our suite, where Cathy had the great idea of calling room service. We were saved. Four bottles of wine arrived. We switched on the TV to watch the continuing drama in Mumbai, and drank. We then decided to stay in the hotel and ordered a great meal from room service as we had to pack that night to leave in the morning for the Punjab. With all the wine we had no problem falling to sleep. In the morning our guide whose only responsibility was to get us through the airport to our plane said with great wisdom, when we questioned him about our safety: “Worry is not the Solution”.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-56986339081962853112008-11-27T05:00:00.000-08:002008-11-27T05:13:12.664-08:00"You Are Crazy Man"<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6axf0ieOI/AAAAAAAADAA/wS1tLw5lKmI/s1600-h/IMG_4799.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6axf0ieOI/AAAAAAAADAA/wS1tLw5lKmI/s400/IMG_4799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273322388843559138" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6axCHVN9I/AAAAAAAAC_4/lQft-xWlRR0/s1600-h/IMG_4792.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6axCHVN9I/AAAAAAAAC_4/lQft-xWlRR0/s400/IMG_4792.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273322380869318610" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6awwogO9I/AAAAAAAAC_w/BPnlQiGXMuk/s1600-h/IMG_4782.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6awwogO9I/AAAAAAAAC_w/BPnlQiGXMuk/s400/IMG_4782.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273322376176614354" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6awkPVNKI/AAAAAAAAC_o/VEmUoTtk7ck/s1600-h/IMG_4856.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6awkPVNKI/AAAAAAAAC_o/VEmUoTtk7ck/s400/IMG_4856.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273322372849808546" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6awcC8maI/AAAAAAAAC_g/0nvGuYTg9fE/s1600-h/IMG_4844.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SS6awcC8maI/AAAAAAAAC_g/0nvGuYTg9fE/s400/IMG_4844.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273322370650380706" /></a><br />I wrote this late at night. When I finished writing this about 1:30am Delhi time, I brought up my browser and first heard about the terror in Mumbai. We stayed up till 3:00am and watched the terror live. We didn’t know what we would be able to do in Delhi today. I am writing this at 7pm, Thanksgiving Day in Delhi. We were able to spend a full day site seeing and shopping. I will blog about it later. Our hotel, The Taj Ambassador is located in the Diplomatic area of Delhi near all of the Foreign Embassies. There is additional security everywhere. We leave tomorrow AM for the Amritsar at the Pakistan border. We checked with The US Embassy and they said there will be no problem. If I don’t blog, it is only because there is a problem with Internet. In a future blog I will discuss the conversations we have had with Indians about this attach. We loved the Taj and Mumbai and feel terrible for everyone. <br /><br />This was our first real day in Delhi. We were picked up by our guide and we went to the India Gate. This monumental structure was made to honor the Indian War dead in the First World War. As you get close to it you can see that the names of all of the war dead are inscribed on the bricks. It is a very touching memorial.<br /><br />From there we drove to the Old City of Delhi. This area is densely packed with people, mostly Muslims. The area is dominated by two structures. The gigantic Red Fort, which was the home of the Mughal Emperors until the revolt of 1857, and the famous Jama Masjid Mosque, the largest Mosque in India. We were amazed at the size of the Red Fort, and it was especially touching to Cathy and I because of the book, The Last Mughal, which is the story of the revolt of 1857 and the ending of the Mughal Empire by the British. Also one of our favorite Bollywood movies, Rang De Basante has scenes filmed at the Red Fort. We plan to return there later while we are Delhi to see it in depth.<br /><br />We then walked through the Mosque. It is old and huge. It is where the Mugal Emperors prayed. It is still in use. Surrounding the Mosque are the narrow alleys of an area called: Chandni Chowk, filled with thousands of merchant stalls that comprise Old Delhi. Over 2 million people live in Old Delhi. It is unbelievably packed, and exciting. The alleys of merchants are grouped by what they sell; you might go down an alley that has store after store selling only calendars, or street after street selling only ribbons or buttons. You can’t drive down the alleys. You can only walk or take a rickshaw which is peddled by drivers that must have the most powerful legs in the world. I had always thought that rickshaws were a tourist kind of thing, but by a ratio of probably 50 to 1 the rickshaws were filled with Indians of all types, women, families, deliveries, etc. These ARE the preferred method of transportation on these narrow alleys. The alleys are so jammed and so narrow that there is no way you can get off a rickshaw and go into a store to buy something. The rickshaw couldn’t possibly park in front of the store while you shopped. So we never got off our rickshaw as he peddled through the market. We plan to return to the market before we return to the USA. What you have to do is leave a rickshaw and pay the driver and then get another rickshaw. I rickshaw driver (peddler) charges 2 rupees per kilometer (a rupee is worth approximately 2 cents) do the math!<br /><br />From there we drove from Old Delhi through New Delhi to the other side of the city. Delhi has 14 million people or so. New Delhi and Old Delhi are right next to each other, but they are as different as day and night. You simple go through the gate of the Old Delhi and you are in New Delhi designed by Edwin Lutyens - and it feels like you are in London! It was designed in the 1910’s with wide streets, roundabouts everywhere, and lots and lots of parks. The Government Center has all of the Embassy’s and lots of rich people. They live in Art Deco Homes that are called bungalows; we would call them large mansions! We really like Delhi and we know we will return.<br /><br />We then had lunch and went to visit an area I knew little about. Delhi has a long history of multiple empires ruling it and the area called Qutub Minar is the oldest. It reminds you of ancient Rome. At he site there are lots of old structures from the 11th century, celebrating the Muslim capture of Hindu Delhi where the Muslims destroyed the Hindu Temples and built Mosques. It is dominated by incredible very large and tall minaret. The entire site was a revelation to us. <br /><br />From there we went shopping and then returned to the Hotel. I had a massage and then drinks and then we went to the most famous restaurant in Delhi: Bukhara. <br /><br />Our taxi was driven by a Sikh (you can tell by his turban). We told them that in a few days we are flying up to Amritsar to visit the Golden Temple (the most holy place for Sikhs). He was most impressed. I then took out by Iphone and played a song from the soundtrack of Rang De Basante which I knew was a Sikh Hymn. I put the earpiece in his ear, he listened and then he looked at me and said “You Crazy Man!”. I knew we had bounded! <br /><br />Apparently President Clinton had eaten at Bukhara and they have a sampler dish named after him. We ordered it (and 2 bottles of wine) and it was huge. The restaurant is in a very Los Vegas like Sheraton Hotel. The hotel was very glitzy. They served cloth bibs with the dinner that we thought were strange, but eventually we put them on. They forgot to give us silverware, when we requested it from our waiter we were informed, no silverware, you eat with your fingers in Indian Style (right hand only). We had a new appreciation for our bibs.<br /><br />We got in a Taxi to return to our hotel, I was in the front seat with the driver, Cathy, Courtney and Ferris were in the backseat. Somehow, in the course of the drive, the cab driver became convinced that I was married to all three women, had 12 children between them and I was vey rich. He became my best friend and complimented me on my choice of wives. He then proceeded to drive up and down the same broad streets going in circles as he ran the meter up. My three wives (for the duration of the ride) were laughing hysterically and we all had fun. The driver of course by the end of the ride wanted me to pay for the education of his three children.<br /><br />There was a wedding going on next to our Hotel and I always wanted to attend an Indian Wedding. They are over the top. You can tell a Indian Wedding because they are outdoors, go on all night, and have lots of bright lights and noise. Cathy and Courtney (wives 1 and 3) decided to pack it in for the night, Ferris (wife no 2) and I decided to crash the wedding. We walked over to the bright lights and discovered there was no wedding but rather a brightly lit gas station and Metro construction going on. Dejected we walked back to the hotel.<br />As we were walking back, two elephants came down the road, one with no rider just ambling along, the other with a sleepy rider sitting on top. Ah Delhi!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-43923247160394735752008-11-25T19:28:00.000-08:002008-11-25T19:36:04.565-08:00Taj Mahal<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzD0UQgi3I/AAAAAAAAC_A/WDKVrLTNAsA/s1600-h/IMG_4756.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzD0UQgi3I/AAAAAAAAC_A/WDKVrLTNAsA/s400/IMG_4756.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272804567302572914" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDz--3vAI/AAAAAAAAC-4/YzIVIl4AHtI/s1600-h/IMG_4719.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDz--3vAI/AAAAAAAAC-4/YzIVIl4AHtI/s400/IMG_4719.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272804561591450626" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDzUrJ3CI/AAAAAAAAC-w/CVw_109uLLg/s1600-h/IMG_4663.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDzUrJ3CI/AAAAAAAAC-w/CVw_109uLLg/s400/IMG_4663.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272804550234463266" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDzFxFRwI/AAAAAAAAC-o/_OaNmq6oNIY/s1600-h/IMG_4662.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDzFxFRwI/AAAAAAAAC-o/_OaNmq6oNIY/s400/IMG_4662.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272804546232796930" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDytbX-YI/AAAAAAAAC-g/KnfCxqvnykE/s1600-h/IMG_4689.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSzDytbX-YI/AAAAAAAAC-g/KnfCxqvnykE/s400/IMG_4689.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272804539699296642" /></a><br />We got up at 4:45am to go to the train station to take the train to the City of Agra. The train ride is a little over 2 hours long. When we arrived at the Delhi train station it was like a trip back to the time of Rudyard Kipling. There was a mass of humanity, sleeping on the floor or sitting in all kinds of small groups. I don’t think we ever would have found our train with out the aid of our guides. The guides are very specialized. At every train station or airport we are met by a guide whose only job is to make sure we and our luggage get on or off the train/plane and walks us to our car. Then his job with us is over and he turns us over to another guide to show us around.<br /><br />Agra is home to the Taj Mahal. NOTHING can prepare you for the Taj. No picture, no description, no viewing in movie, no reading about it in a book (and we have done all 4!). There is lots of security. No vehicle can come with in 1 kilometer of it. You are dropped off and get into little electric cars that drive you to the entrance of the grounds. There is no view of the Taj as you approach. After being dropped off by the electric cars you walk into the grounds. Eventually there is a gate and when you pass through you see the Taj in the distance. The Indian Government has restored the Taj to a pristine state. It is huge and majestic. It is gleaming white. There is no graffiti anywhere. There is no litter anywhere. It is a magical building. It is set on the banks of a river and there are no other buildings in your view to spoil the setting. There are some hawkers and beggars before you enter the grounds, but not an overwhelming number.<br /><br />We were all simply blown away by the building, the grounds and of course the tragic love story that accounted for the Taj. For those of you that don’t know, the Mugal King Shaw Jahan fell deeply in love with a princess Mumtaz Mahal. They were married and they had 14 children. He was obsessed with her, and when she eventually died he built this monument to their love. Before it was completed his son overthrew him and he was kept prisoner in the mammoth Agra fort where he could watch the construction of the Taj. They are both entombed there. The walls of the Taj are inlayed with precious stones. It was a wonderful experience and it far exceeded anything that we expected.<br /><br />We then were driven to a studio where they make marble tables and other inlayed marble objects in a similar fashion to the Taj. As I we walked in and I saw dollar signs in our guides eyes (I am sure he gets a commission) I said to myself “No way are we buying anything”. I was wrong!<br /><br />After a good Indian lunch we went to visit the Agra Fort. It is a giant castle like fortress. Several times we have seen the famous Indian movie Mugal-E-Azim set in the time of the ruler Akbar at the fort. There is a famous scene in the movie where there is a dance in a mirrored room. We had assumed the room was created from the directors imagination (“Great place for a dance number”). The room really exists! We got to see it! We had also read a great (and erotic) book simply called “Taj” about the King and Queen and there relationship (think Burton and Taylor). In the book the imprisoned King Shaw Jahan looks out across the river and watches the construction of the Taj as a memorial to his late wife. It was amazing to be in the real Fort, in his room, and see these views, that were so vividly described in the book. He wasn’t restricted to a cell. It was more like he was under house arrest, and couldn’t leave the fort, and he had no authority.<br /><br />We then drove through typical Indian dirty congested streets (that we find fascinating) to the Baby Taj. I had never heard of this place before. As the name implies it is much smaller than the Taj but built in a similar fashion. It was built before the Taj, and you can see how the architecture evolved.<br /><br />We then drove to a spot across the river, where we could see the Taj reflected in the river at sunset. Nearby a cremation was taking place, and we could smell the funeral pyre and hear the chants. <br /><br />We then drove across the most narrow congested bridge I have ever been on (it seemed to take forever – but it was amazing to see the traffic, to a very posh hotel for lots of drinks. Our train was scheduled to leave a little after 8pm. As we awaited the train, I noticed a family of rats on the train platform, that would appear and eat some crumbs on the floor of the train station that scoot away only to reappear. Unbelievably we were sort of fascinated by the rats and watched them. Only in India! From the Taj Mahal to rats and we loved it all. We arrived back at our hotel at 11:30 and skipped dinner and fell fast asleep. It was a fabulous day!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-68570616600364477112008-11-24T11:14:00.000-08:002008-11-24T11:22:55.291-08:00Jaipur to Delhi<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-1PzGE_I/AAAAAAAAC-A/z9tkwjL30kY/s1600-h/IMG_4622.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-1PzGE_I/AAAAAAAAC-A/z9tkwjL30kY/s400/IMG_4622.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272306504517948402" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-0qg2olI/AAAAAAAAC94/zA0-OVsI_tY/s1600-h/IMG_4616.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-0qg2olI/AAAAAAAAC94/zA0-OVsI_tY/s400/IMG_4616.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272306494509326930" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-0EB4M5I/AAAAAAAAC9w/JfdPvspQmZA/s1600-h/IMG_4611.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-0EB4M5I/AAAAAAAAC9w/JfdPvspQmZA/s400/IMG_4611.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272306484178858898" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-xjKO3jI/AAAAAAAAC9o/KAClhOqfX_4/s1600-h/IMG_4566.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-xjKO3jI/AAAAAAAAC9o/KAClhOqfX_4/s400/IMG_4566.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272306440995790386" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-xKbcPJI/AAAAAAAAC9g/ApNxR4kf8ZM/s1600-h/IMG_4561.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSr-xKbcPJI/AAAAAAAAC9g/ApNxR4kf8ZM/s400/IMG_4561.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272306434357083282" /></a><br />We got up and checked out of the hotel in Jaipur. We had a 8PM flight to Delhi, so we had a jammed packed day until we had to go to the airport. We first went to a large antique market. I had a very typical Indian shopping experience. Cathy and I wanted to buy a temple hanging. These are large scale paintings that were hung in Hindu Temples that told stories to the people that couldn’t read. They just had to look at the paintings to know what the legends were. I saw one that appealed to me and asked the owner about the painting. He explained it was over 300 years old. It was expensive. I liked it. I called Cathy over to take a look and she asked why the painting a steam locomotive on it, if it 300 years old. The owner shrugged. I obviously lost all confidence in the place at that time, so we didn’t buy it. We told our guide (who I am sure would get a commission if we bought it) and he immediately said “They must have had a premonition when they painted the painting”. <br /><br />We first went shopping at a jewelry store. I had lots of fun bargaining for people.<br />I walked over to the milk market. If you went to this market, you would only drink your milk black in India, if you ever visit the country. Farmer’s bring the cows milk in standard milk containers. Because no one knows when the cow was milked, you don’t know how fresh the milk in the containers is. So there are dozens of milk containers scattered about on the dusty street. Restaurant people, or just housewives, go to a container, open it stick there hand into the milk, lick their hand to taste the milk and decide if they want to buy it or not – depending upon how it tastes to them. So the milk you get at that restaurant could have had any number of hands in it! So drink your coffee black, or make sure you get boiled milk!<br /><br />We then went to the Amber Fort. This is another Fortress built upon a mountain top. It was impregnable. Never conquered by anyone! We took our buses as close as we could, then hired jeeps to take us up the mountain to the fort. The Fort is surrounded by walls that creep over the hills as far as the eye could see. It reminded us all of the Great Wall of China. We went through the fortress and in Cathy and my mind, were relating it to the many books and movies we have read of this period of time.<br /><br />We did a little more shopping after the fort, and went to an interesting Indian Theme restaurant that was like eating in a train car. We then went to the Taj Hotel, which is another converted Palace, for a drink. This Palace was a guest palace, for use if someone arrived after the Amber Forts gates were closed. Once they were closed for the night, they wouldn’t open for anyone, including the king. So this palace is where he could crash for the night. It is very posh. There were two men who had large white flags. All they did was walk around and <br />hit the flag causing a loud noise. We couldn’t figure out what it was, and when I asked I was told they are pigeon chasers, whose only job is to scare away any pigeons that land at the Taj. <br />Interesting fact, you see men peeing against walls everywhere. We have no ideas what women do, if they have to go. One wag suggested they are squatting on the other side of the walls. Who knows?<br /><br />We then drove to the airport and flew to Delhi. After navigating the airport and arriving at our hotel, about 10pm, we quickly checked into our room. Woops, they gave us keys to someone else’s room, or at least there bags and clothing were in the room. The management profusely apologized and upgraded us to a suite. All’s well that ends well, as they say. We finally got to bed about Midnight, and have a 4:45 wakeup call. We are catching the train tomorrow early am to Agra, to finally visit the Taj Mahal.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-17341817492910421242008-11-23T10:06:00.000-08:002008-11-23T10:34:28.298-08:00Jodhpur to Jaipur<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdJs3CB_I/AAAAAAAAC9A/qRVbiupjKSQ/s1600-h/IMG_4531.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdJs3CB_I/AAAAAAAAC9A/qRVbiupjKSQ/s400/IMG_4531.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271917628800239602" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdI3VIoaI/AAAAAAAAC84/pyYqiON5REg/s1600-h/IMG_4507.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdI3VIoaI/AAAAAAAAC84/pyYqiON5REg/s400/IMG_4507.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271917614430986658" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdITF8-yI/AAAAAAAAC8w/W_TYanAooCg/s1600-h/IMG_4496.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdITF8-yI/AAAAAAAAC8w/W_TYanAooCg/s400/IMG_4496.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271917604703632162" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdIGbwYEI/AAAAAAAAC8o/2LTfXJf4Zc4/s1600-h/IMG_4484.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdIGbwYEI/AAAAAAAAC8o/2LTfXJf4Zc4/s400/IMG_4484.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271917601305419842" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdHWmOyJI/AAAAAAAAC8g/1I536LPWVpE/s1600-h/IMG_4481.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSmdHWmOyJI/AAAAAAAAC8g/1I536LPWVpE/s400/IMG_4481.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271917588464453778" /></a><br />We left the blue city of Jodhpur and headed for the pink city of Jaipur. It is a long drive! We stopped on the way for lunch (it was quite good – at a truck stop kind of place). We then went to a village where we saw block printing of fabric. The smell of the inks was overpowering. Once again we saw, kites be flown from rooftops, lots of children wanting to have their picture taken, and all sorts of animals. What happens to old cows (they are holy after all)? The answer is India has old cow homes for those cows that quite make it on the streets. India does not have old people’s homes for the poor and downtrodden that you see everywhere. They worship and take care of cows.<br /><br />We arrived in Jaipur and checked into our hotel after an arduous drive around the walled old city. There are lots of elephants, camels and cows everywhere. It appeared to us that Jaipur is the wedding capital of India. Indians take weddings as very big events. They last multiple days, are very elaborate, extremely expensive and over the top. The groom traditionally goes to the bride’s house mounted on a white horse, surrounded by family members and friends to “capture” her and take her to the wedding ceremony. We saw lots of weddings parties.<br /><br />In the morning we went to the Jaipur Observatory. It is a large area, bigger than a football field and has enormous stone instruments. There are probably 20 of them. They give all sorts of accurate readings of times, and stars. It is amazing to see. This was all constructed in the late 1700’s. Everyone loved seeing these very primitive yet exceedingly accurate instruments.<br /><br />We then went on a tour of the Maharaja’s City Palace. He still lives there. The Maharaja still live large! It was quite a palace! I finally got to see a snake charmer!<br /><br />From there we shopped, jewelry, clothes, etc. Jaipur has a lot of shopping opportunities. It also has a lot of beggars and hawkers. For dinner we went to an old Mansion that had been converted to a restaurant and Turban museum. They need to specialize. Tomorrow we visit the famous fort in Jaipur do more shopping then fly to Delhi.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-16717420746344626772008-11-22T08:52:00.000-08:002008-11-22T09:05:48.904-08:00What a Fort!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6_WrguUI/AAAAAAAAC78/tkRtYL3iKCU/s1600-h/IMG_4428.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6_WrguUI/AAAAAAAAC78/tkRtYL3iKCU/s400/IMG_4428.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271528223931414850" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6-yLGWnI/AAAAAAAAC70/SW_LgERhAI0/s1600-h/IMG_4424.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6-yLGWnI/AAAAAAAAC70/SW_LgERhAI0/s400/IMG_4424.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271528214131792498" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6-drlxJI/AAAAAAAAC7s/KboYhPDwJso/s1600-h/IMG_4404.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6-drlxJI/AAAAAAAAC7s/KboYhPDwJso/s400/IMG_4404.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271528208630924434" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6-N74WxI/AAAAAAAAC7k/dsMGUeOqBDY/s1600-h/IMG_4372.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg6-N74WxI/AAAAAAAAC7k/dsMGUeOqBDY/s400/IMG_4372.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271528204404284178" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg69uuo-3I/AAAAAAAAC7c/msJT03u7wrM/s1600-h/IMG_4369.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSg69uuo-3I/AAAAAAAAC7c/msJT03u7wrM/s400/IMG_4369.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271528196027251570" /></a><br />We got up in the morning and headed to Meherangarh Fort. It is from the 15th century and was occupied until the 1940’s when then last new palace in India was built. Although called a Fort it is a castle and palace for the Maharaja. It is on top of a huge rocky hill and it is enormous. It is what you think of when you think of a desert fortress. It looks totally impregnable. We walked to the top. From the top you have vistas of the city and the city walls from all directions. No one snuck up on this place. Many of the homes in this city are painted blue (the color of Lord Krishna – the flute player). It is quite pleasing to the eye to see these blue houses.<br /><br />One interesting sight at the castle was a series of handprints. Indian women at that time practiced Sati. When their husbands died they through themselves on the funeral pyre and burnt themselves to death. The practice is now illegal in India. These hand prints were of women who were going to practice a mass Sati when their solder / husbands were killed in battle. <br /><br />From the Fort we drove a short distance to see the spot where the Maharajas are cremated. We then drove to the new palace where the Maharaja lives. Part of this new palace is a very plush Taj Hotel. We had lunch (it was very good) I like the richness of Rajasthan food.<br /><br />We then shifted in to shopping mode. The Taj, of course, had a nice shopping area. There was also a shopping area near our hotel. From there some us tuk-tuked into the old quarter and walked around through the narrow alleys. The women here are extremely colorful in their choice of dress (except Muslim women who stick to basic black). <br /><br />After spending time in the old quarter we returned to the hotel. We drank a lot of wine, by the pool, we ordered very good samosas as snacks. I then had the buffet; Cathy was full from the snacks.<br /><br />We returned to our room to pack for our morning drive to Jaipur.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-45945367860812829132008-11-21T04:39:00.000-08:002008-11-21T04:47:59.746-08:006 Hour Bang Lossi<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSattVd_YfI/AAAAAAAAC5c/UnH7xR84Xsw/s1600-h/IMG_4318.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSattVd_YfI/AAAAAAAAC5c/UnH7xR84Xsw/s400/IMG_4318.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271091408252396018" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSattDgLBlI/AAAAAAAAC5U/tPK9FcGuLiU/s1600-h/IMG_4311.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSattDgLBlI/AAAAAAAAC5U/tPK9FcGuLiU/s400/IMG_4311.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271091403429709394" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSats7pLVXI/AAAAAAAAC5M/-wlI388BMwc/s1600-h/IMG_4284.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSats7pLVXI/AAAAAAAAC5M/-wlI388BMwc/s400/IMG_4284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271091401319994738" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSatssGEefI/AAAAAAAAC5E/mSxef6s_Zso/s1600-h/IMG_4276.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSatssGEefI/AAAAAAAAC5E/mSxef6s_Zso/s400/IMG_4276.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271091397146212850" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSatsL4d4RI/AAAAAAAAC48/5PFNeKkAbyA/s1600-h/IMG_4268.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSatsL4d4RI/AAAAAAAAC48/5PFNeKkAbyA/s400/IMG_4268.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271091388499222802" /></a><br />6 Hour Bhang Lassi<br /><br />I wanted to try Bhang Lassi, or at least the Bhang part since I arrived in India. It is legal here. So, we had all day bus ride ahead of us from Udaipur to Jodhpur. It was the perfect venue. Bhang comes wrapped in a leaf. It looks like mud or dirt. I opened a bottle of fresh water and spilled half of it out so that I had about a cup of water left. I then poured the muddy stuff into the water a shook vigorously. It looked awful, reminded me of dirty water. So I drank it all. Nothing happened. The bus rolled on towards Jodhpur.<br /><br />About an hour later it hit me. I felt very mellow as if I had 2 or 3 martinis. The bus ride got more interesting! The first couple of hours as we drove towards the Rajasthan State border; the road was a treacherous - one lane, very curvy cut thru the steep mountains. The bus continually sounded its horn as it went around one blind curve after another. I don’t know why there aren’t more accidents.<br /><br />We eventually passed over the mountain and hit flat land that became more and more dry and like a desert. The Bhang Lassi was in full effect! We then stopped at a Ranakpur Jain Temple with 1444 pillars. This white marble structure was built in 1439 and still is in use. Inside there are many connected large rooms with intricate carvings everywhere. It is built on many, many different levels with no railings to stop you from tumbling down. It is a magnificent structure which blew us all away. Of course I was more blown away then anyone do to my enhanced senses.<br /><br />We then drove to a nearby outdoor Jain restaurant for a very good lunch. We loved the taste of everything! We then drove thru small villages and towns towards Jodhpur. The whole area is very colorful. The men wear turbans (9 meters of cloth go into a turban) and the women wear colorful saris. We saw mustard fields that reminded us of the Bollywood Movie DDLJ. We saw wild pigs in the street, a new obstructions to our travels. Cathy and I listened to Indian music on our Iphone. It was the 5th hour since I took the Bhang Lassi and I still felt it!<br /><br />We then checked into our hotel the Ajit Bhawan a heritage hotel. It was the converted palace of a late brother of the Maharaja of Jodhpur. We then headed out for dinner. We took our bus towards the old city, but eventually we could go no farther. We had to get out of the bus and take Tuk-Tuks down the narrow streets. It is fabulous way to travel, you see into houses, stores, avoiding cows, people, motorcycles, and other tuk-tuks. It is like going to the fun house and playing bumper cars, but you never seem to hit anything.<br /><br />We went to a converted gigantic mansion, over 225 years old. Our group were the only ones there. There must have been 20 entertainers, singers, dancers, fire-eaters, all entertaining us, as we drank in this amazing house’s courtyard. We then went on a tour of the house, escorted by the sons of the owner of the house, and then we met their father, who seemed quite pleased with his mansion.<br /><br />We were led up to the roof of the mansion where there was a dinner prepared for us. While we were eating they had more dancing and entertainment. From the roof we could see the Royal Palace (we are going there for lunch tomorrow), and other city sites. Finally to top it off, they lit all kinds of loud fireworks that shot up and exploded over our heads. What a way to end a dinner, your own private – large scale fireworks. The Bhang Lassi had just about worn off and this was a fitting end to an amazing day! We took tuk-tuks and the bus back to the hotel and to sleep, awaiting a day in Jodhpur tomorrow.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-4254411452866803492008-11-19T19:08:00.000-08:002008-11-19T19:09:41.264-08:00Recovered from Delhi Belly<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU8bkmFsI/AAAAAAAAC3s/0Hv_dHPyqPg/s1600-h/IMG_4238.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU8bkmFsI/AAAAAAAAC3s/0Hv_dHPyqPg/s400/IMG_4238.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU8a0x2DI/AAAAAAAAC30/5-cE9eW7lSI/s1600-h/IMG_4244.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU8a0x2DI/AAAAAAAAC30/5-cE9eW7lSI/s400/IMG_4244.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU8m1ddTI/AAAAAAAAC38/8FuxB6ScN3M/s1600-h/IMG_4253.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU8m1ddTI/AAAAAAAAC38/8FuxB6ScN3M/s400/IMG_4253.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU9B3Kq7I/AAAAAAAAC4E/hXcusvqAT6U/s1600-h/IMG_4252.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSTU9B3Kq7I/AAAAAAAAC4E/hXcusvqAT6U/s400/IMG_4252.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><br />I still felt kind of punk in the morning when I woke up, but the antibiotics had kicked in. I decided to stay back as the group left the hotel in two different directions. Most went to a museum of miniature paintings. Cathy, Ferris and Courtney went shopping. Later in the morning they happened to sync up with the group on the bus and shopping continued.<br /><br />When I realized that I was cured, or at least didn’t have to think of being close to a bathroom, I decided to have a massage. I had a typical Indian Ayurvedic massage. It is a VERY oily massage but soothing. They rub lots of oil into your hair and leave it there. I was now ready to meet the rest of the day. It cost 600 rupees, about $12.00.<br /><br />I then took an auto rickshaw back to the hotel and picked up Barbara who had also remained behind, to drive over to the Majarana’s private car museum. He likes Rolls-Royces. Besides his regular Rolls, he has a Rolls Jeep, and Rolls Hunting Car.<br /><br />We then returned to the Hotel and I caught up with Cathy and group who had just returned from shopping. We had heard from the group of an upscale shawl store that featured amazing products from Kashmir. The store sent a car and driver for us and we went there. It was amazing, the store could have been in New York or Los Angeles very chic. They then had the driver take us a to a jewelry store and back to the hotel. We had drinks and dinner at the hotel. We then packed to be ready in the morning for our trip to Jodphur.<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-52123753125751569082008-11-19T00:26:00.000-08:002008-11-19T00:27:16.757-08:00Palaces and Delhi Belly<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN4gYrbKI/AAAAAAAAC2c/eQp81gUWN_A/s1600-h/IMG_4226.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN4gYrbKI/AAAAAAAAC2c/eQp81gUWN_A/s400/IMG_4226.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN42TCvSI/AAAAAAAAC2k/Fv2ieiWK8os/s1600-h/IMG_4179.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN42TCvSI/AAAAAAAAC2k/Fv2ieiWK8os/s400/IMG_4179.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN4_edywI/AAAAAAAAC2s/wTD1g7bMk1s/s1600-h/IMG_4161.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN4_edywI/AAAAAAAAC2s/wTD1g7bMk1s/s400/IMG_4161.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN5IBKinI/AAAAAAAAC20/hUZ8vdGa1hM/s1600-h/IMG_4149.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSPN5IBKinI/AAAAAAAAC20/hUZ8vdGa1hM/s400/IMG_4149.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br />We drove from Amedabad to Udaipur. This was a about a 5 hour drive. The most important part of the drive is that we left the State of Gujarat and entered the State of Rajasthan. As you probably guessed you can drink in Rajasthan. Driving into Udaipur we saw our first elephant being used as a beast of burden. One more thing to avoid on the crowded streets.<br /><br />Rajasthan is the State that people think of when they think of India. Palaces, red earth, it is all here. The Rajaputs, the people who lived in this area, were known as fierce warriors. The city of Udaipur has many, many palaces and several lakes. There is a famous palace in the middle of lake that has been turned into a hotel.<br /><br />We are staying at a new very nice hotel, called the Trident. When we arrived in Udaipur, we went the main Palace of the Majahrana. The Palace is a huge complex which has grown as buildings were added onto it over the centuries. It looks out over the lake and the Majahrana can see many other of his palaces. This guy is loaded! At Indian Independence, in 1947, the Majahrana was able to keep his palaces his jewels and lots of other things. He in very astute and has turned many of his palaces into hotels.<br /><br />At any rate we walked through the gigantic palace and saw the way he lives. He still lives in it in a newer section. <br /><br />We returned to our hotel cleaned up, had drinks (yea) and headed out to another one of his palaces. This was is a guest palace on an island in the middle of the lake. We took a private launch to get there. It was a beautiful setting looking back across the lake at night at the various lit up palaces.<br /><br />As the night progressed I realized that I was finally suffering from a bout of “Delhi Belly” as they so discretely describe it. I have now taken the antibiotic prescribed for it, and I expect to be ok in the morning. I have no idea where I picked up the bug. At any rate, India is worth it!<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-30955254095181264622008-11-17T10:41:00.000-08:002008-11-17T10:49:37.020-08:00Walking and Shopping<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8BrOzImI/AAAAAAAAC1I/28hoD6Rmt7A/s1600-h/IMG_4067.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8BrOzImI/AAAAAAAAC1I/28hoD6Rmt7A/s400/IMG_4067.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8BgqjPrI/AAAAAAAAC1Q/l7WJIcWW7E4/s1600-h/IMG_4082.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8BgqjPrI/AAAAAAAAC1Q/l7WJIcWW7E4/s400/IMG_4082.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8B7ud_vI/AAAAAAAAC1Y/jQUg_QNIGCQ/s1600-h/IMG_4057.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8B7ud_vI/AAAAAAAAC1Y/jQUg_QNIGCQ/s400/IMG_4057.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8B7_oawI/AAAAAAAAC1g/k9xetoR0teo/s1600-h/IMG_4133.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSG8B7_oawI/AAAAAAAAC1g/k9xetoR0teo/s400/IMG_4133.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br />The group split in half in the AM today. Some of us went on a walk through the old quarter. The other half (including Cathy) stayed at the hotel for a lecture on textiles. When we compared notes at noon, we both had a great time.<br /><br />The old quarter is very crowded. The alleys go every which way, and if we got lost in them, it would be difficult to find our way out. The streets are jammed with women washing clothes, cows, motorbikes, strollers, hawkers, and people just hanging around their home. The ground level of the homes may have a tiny business in front like a tailor or cigarette sales. Most of the homes leave their doors open and you can look into these homes that are hundreds of years old.<br /><br />There are Hindu Temples or shrines every block or so, there are Mosques all over, there are Jain Temples scattered through out. They all seem to live in harmony.<br /><br />The little alleys lead to a small public square that are located through out the old quarter. On a wall at each square is a blackboard where they people who live nearby posts messages to each other. Kind of an ancient example of facebook.<br /><br />Among the highlights, Sid Saeed Mosque an ancient Mosque that has carved window screens that you would swear were like stain glass, but are actually carved from stone. I have included a picture. We visited a very rich Hindu Sect, where we saw a service with all of its banging drums and bells. The drums and bells are automated no humans play them. It was fun to watch: a very Rube Goldberg machine – but boy was it loud!<br /><br />We had to take our shoes off, of course, when we entered the temple. When we left the temple someone had stolen our guide’s new tennis shoes. Luckily, there was a sandal maker nearby and he was able to purchase new sandals.<br /><br />We visited a Jain Temple. I know very little about this religion, except the people are such vegetarians that they sometimes where masks so they won’t inadvertently breath in an insect.<br /><br />There were streets bustling with sari shops and vendors of all kinds. The people were amazing, the love to have their picture taken.<br /><br />Kite flying is very popular. We came across men preparing pink kite string. The string is coated with ground up glass, and the object when you fly a kite is to rub your string against another kites string and cut it. The last kite flying wins. You can read all about in the book: The Kite Runner. It is excellent.<br /><br />We went through an abandoned large house in the old quarter. It is over 20 rooms with two indoor courtyards. If someone wanted to, and had the money, they could create quite a living space.<br /><br />We eventually tuk-tuked back to the hotel to meet the rest of the group. They had learned much and had bought a few pieces. We went to lunch and then went shopping.<br /><br />We first went to Shrujan. This women’s clothing store, trains women in the villages to be self-sufficient by sewing. They provide to the women the education necessary to do the work. This is critical in India because so many people live in small, primitive by our standards villages. These projects greatly assist them.<br /><br />We walked around the corner to another store and continued to shop! We then jumped aboard tuk-tuks for a ride back to our hotel.<br /><br />After drinks in our room, with others, we had dinner in the hotel and packed for our trip tomorrow to Udaipur.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-55272054398370125042008-11-16T08:50:00.000-08:002008-11-16T18:51:08.533-08:00Would Gandi Approve of our Shopping?<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR4ZUvAaI/AAAAAAAAC0Q/1duAjpkfGdo/s1600-h/IMG_4053.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR4ZUvAaI/AAAAAAAAC0Q/1duAjpkfGdo/s400/IMG_4053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269301593335857570" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR4NWsETI/AAAAAAAAC0I/m87q0URRXPo/s1600-h/IMG_4037.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR4NWsETI/AAAAAAAAC0I/m87q0URRXPo/s400/IMG_4037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269301590122828082" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR3kBYJnI/AAAAAAAAC0A/_40URVGVe5g/s1600-h/IMG_4033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR3kBYJnI/AAAAAAAAC0A/_40URVGVe5g/s400/IMG_4033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269301579027588722" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR3aFjzXI/AAAAAAAACz4/3j5yOOXgk6I/s1600-h/IMG_4026.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR3aFjzXI/AAAAAAAACz4/3j5yOOXgk6I/s400/IMG_4026.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269301576360775026" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR2zZa_ZI/AAAAAAAACzw/zwQ7gw64rPM/s1600-h/IMG_4017.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SSBR2zZa_ZI/AAAAAAAACzw/zwQ7gw64rPM/s400/IMG_4017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269301565975100818" /></a><br />Today we spent our time exploring Ahmedabad. We started out by going to the Calico Museum of Textiles. Ahmedabad is a typical large (4 million people) loud, bustling, congested Indian City. It also is fairly wealthy with many rich industrialists. One family has endowed many museums. The Calico Museum is not about Calico. It is however an oasis of green lawns and trees and very contemplative set in the middle of this city. You are transported to another peaceful world. They allow no pictures so you will just have to visualize the estate. The rich textile family built an extremely large mansion in the 30’s and latter turned it into a museum. They also transported the facades of several old Ahmedabad homes to the property. The museum itself is a gem. It displays many examples of textiles including clothing, temple scrolls etc. The rich are different; I think everyone on this tour could imagine themselves living on this estate.<br /><br />From there we went 180 degrees in the other direction. We went to Sabarmati Ashram. This is where Mahatma Gandhi lived, upon his return from South Africa. At this Ashram he developed his non-violent philosophy, his acceptance of the Untouchable Class, and his determination to achieve independence from the British. Although from a very high class family, he lived here in a simple fashion, sleeping on the porch of his very small house. We spent a lot time in the historical museum reading about his life.<br /><br />From there we went to a very small Art Book Store. It was very crowded and had an amazing selection of books on Indian Arts and Crafts.<br /><br />After lunch we walked around in the old quarter of Ahmedabad. This area has gated alleys that lead off of the main streets. They are very narrow. The homes along these alleys are 600 years old, with families handing them down from generation to generation. We shopped along the way.<br /><br />In the afternoon we went to Shreyas Folk Museum. This is another museum (actually two different ones at one location) donated by the same family that gave the Calico Museum. It also sits in its own large park. Everyone loved this museum. It is loaded with textiles and everyday historical articles. They had a comprehensive collection.<br /><br />We returned to the hotel. I finally figured out that everyone is always walking around with a water bottle in the heat and that I could empty my water bottle and fill it with white wine. No one was the wiser and I could expand my drinking environment to more than our hotel room!<br /><br />In the hotel Cama where we are staying there is a great gift shop. The owner is the 2nd generation running the shop. He has old textiles and designs new ones. We all met with him as he displayed his wares. It was educational and fun (with my trusty not so water bottle).<br /><br />We had dinner at the hotel and prepared for tomorrows adventures.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-64971259112303501682008-11-15T10:46:00.000-08:002008-11-16T08:41:04.953-08:00Eunuchs, Bats and Wine<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8cBV7GJoI/AAAAAAAACzQ/1ctu6vM1Y2Q/s1600-h/IMG_3981.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8cBV7GJoI/AAAAAAAACzQ/1ctu6vM1Y2Q/s400/IMG_3981.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268960898437228162" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8cAxXfv0I/AAAAAAAACzI/WSmk2G1UYK0/s1600-h/IMG_3986.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8cAxXfv0I/AAAAAAAACzI/WSmk2G1UYK0/s400/IMG_3986.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268960888624234306" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8cAbdzmMI/AAAAAAAACzA/VXYXyu03SEA/s1600-h/IMG_3967.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8cAbdzmMI/AAAAAAAACzA/VXYXyu03SEA/s400/IMG_3967.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268960882745120962" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8b_iRMcKI/AAAAAAAACy4/sXW-jEJUVRw/s1600-h/IMG_3971.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8b_iRMcKI/AAAAAAAACy4/sXW-jEJUVRw/s400/IMG_3971.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268960867391402146" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8b9tqXeFI/AAAAAAAACyw/kLsD0CkZYic/s1600-h/IMG_3951.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8b9tqXeFI/AAAAAAAACyw/kLsD0CkZYic/s400/IMG_3951.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268960836090034258" /></a><br /><br />We started out for a long day of driving on towards the city of Ahmedabad. We drove down a typical Indian one and half lane road. We shared our road with on coming trucks, herds of goats and cows, camels, and generally congested traffic. Driving in India is like an “E” ticket at Disneyland, very exciting! Pedestrians do not have the right of way, however animals do. So even on the Indian equivalent of a fast road, sometimes traffic comes to a complete standstill as a herd of goats or cows crosses the street.<br /><br />We stopped at 3 very different Hindu Temples. The first one was an active Hindu Temple, and we arrived just as various services were starting. This is the only Hindu Temple in India devoted to Eunuchs. They are thought of as special people in India. In the picture you can see them sitting and chatting. They were happy (as all Indians seem to be) to have their picture taken. The temple is named Bahucharaji.<br /><br />From there we went to one of 3 Sun Temples in India. It is no longer an active Temple, but rather a historical site. The Sun Temple of Modhera was built in 1050 and it was designed so that the sun always shone through the building lighting specific holy spots. It is a testimony to their knowledge of both engineering and astronomy. The building was covered with carvings of the gods and lots of erotic images from the Kama Sutra. The Temple is quite beautiful except that when we looked up we noticed the ceiling was covered with hanging bats. We don't like bats.<br /><br />We then went to the most spectacular Temple: Rani Ki-Vav, it is located in the former capital of Gujarat, Patan. The top of the Temple is flush with the ground. The entire temple is built in an excavation in the ground. You descend into it via steep stone steps. As you walk down you are surrounded with sculptured reliefs. It is quite amazing. The idea of an “upside” temple blew all of our minds. We climbed down, below the surface of the earth approximately 5 stories. The sense of being below ground and in such an elaborate religious excavation is overwhelming.<br /><br />We then went to visit the very famous weaving family of Patola. They have a unique way of weaving that has been in their family for generations. They are the last family of weavers that are left using these techniques. Once again all of the residents of this very poor area came out to wave and smile at us. I am overwhelmed by the friendliness of the people.<br /><br />We continued driving and eventually arrived at our hotel in Ahmedabad. We were ready for a drink. Instead we got a good taste of Indian bureaucracy. The State of Gujarat is a dry state, no bars, no alcohol in restaurants, etc. However you can purchase a license to buy liquor. So I started the process. The wine shop was in the basement of our hotel. I went to the basement to buy some wine. They gave me a short form to fill out and told me to take my passport and the form to the front desk. I didn’t have my passport with me so I went up got my passport and then went to the front desk. They took my passport, Xeroxed it and my Indian Visa, and officially stamped the form and signed it. I took the form back downstairs to the Wine Shop and they had me fill out a two page form about my trip, arrival in India etc. When I had finished filling out the forms they took it along with the other signed form and the Xerox, stapled them together, and told me to return to my hotel room they would call me. I really wanted a drink by this time. I returned to our hotel room and eventually the phone rang, they were ready. I went back down to the basement and was met by a new official who checked the forms, signed the forms, and told me the cost of the permit to drink was 70 rupees (about $1.50). I gave him the rupees, and he entered all sorts of data in an old ledger book. I then was told to go the counter where I could select either: 3 bottles of wine, 1 bottle of hard alcohol, or 10 beers. Which ever I selected, could only be drunk in our hotel room during the next 7 days. I am not allowed to buy any more booze. They signed the official permit to drink, stamped it twice and I was good to go. One small problem no one had handed me anything to drink. I looked forlornly at the wine sitting on the counter and said something to the man like “That’s my wine”. He said the man who just left the room would be returning shortly and put it in a bag for me. I waited, the man showed up, he put the wine in the bag and I returned to my room, thinking next time its Cathy’s turn to buy.<br /><br />We then went out to a traditional Gujarat meal. I didn’t like it, oh well, I have lots of wine to drink!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-79848101194710518552008-11-15T09:55:00.000-08:002008-11-15T10:04:22.752-08:00Camel Ride!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OzLtjDQI/AAAAAAAACyM/_sY8iJTLWN0/s1600-h/IMG_3933.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OzLtjDQI/AAAAAAAACyM/_sY8iJTLWN0/s400/IMG_3933.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268946361526717698" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OyyzFS6I/AAAAAAAACyE/HgAgQ-F7fI4/s1600-h/IMG_3902.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OyyzFS6I/AAAAAAAACyE/HgAgQ-F7fI4/s400/IMG_3902.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268946354839047074" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OyXY01BI/AAAAAAAACx8/4z82bPTHTFU/s1600-h/IMG_3890.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OyXY01BI/AAAAAAAACx8/4z82bPTHTFU/s400/IMG_3890.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268946347481158674" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OxqFGPtI/AAAAAAAACx0/LAvsLv5ToeY/s1600-h/IMG_3866.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OxqFGPtI/AAAAAAAACx0/LAvsLv5ToeY/s400/IMG_3866.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268946335318818514" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OxTESRuI/AAAAAAAACxs/5K6pEgc5Bhk/s1600-h/IMG_3854.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8OxTESRuI/AAAAAAAACxs/5K6pEgc5Bhk/s400/IMG_3854.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268946329141397218" /></a><br />I wasn’t able to blog yesterday; we were in the middle of nowhere, with no connectivity. We left our hotel for a long drive and wound up in Sadura. On the drive we saw lots of cows and goats and water buffalo meandering across the road. Sometimes they were ones and twos, sometimes in large herds.<br /><br />We stopped in at an artist who makes great block printing textiles. It was a typical Muslim house and I was intrigued to see the women getting water from their well. The house, like most homes we visited, had no running water or cooking area.<br /><br />We came across camel caravans. I was amazed. I couldn’t believe they are still used. But we saw them. Migrant workers on Camels taking their possessions with them while herding goats from one place to another.<br /><br />They grow different crops in this area, Cotton, and Caster Beans were very predominant. The fields are interspersed with large industrial buildings. On the long hours of our ride, our guide explained to us the various ways that the multiple religions of India co-exist (or not). He discussed love vs. arranged marriages and the different customs of the states of India 28 very diverse states.<br /><br />We finally arrived at our hotel. We have a little separate house to ourselves and it is very primitive.<br /><br />We were then taken for a camel ride through the surrounding villages. It was similar to a hay ride, but with camels, not horses, pulling the wagon. Camels are very smooth walkers. They have two speeds: slow and a sort of trot. The village alleys we went through were all dirt paths. As he was pulling us the camel would take a bite out of any low hanging tree branches that looked good to him. I am glad they are vegetarians. The villages are mixed: Muslim and Hindu. There are many Mosques and Hindu Temples even in the smallest villages. None of the men seem to work very hard. There are children everywhere. Both Hindus and Muslims love to have their picture taken – especially the mothers with their young children. None of the women wear Burkas, a few cover their entire face, most just wear a scarf. They then love to be able to look at the camera and see themselves after we have taken their picture. Everyone likes being a star the world over. A very few Muslims prefer we don’t take their pictures, most have no problem being photographed.<br /><br />The alleys were drove through were very narrow, and the camel cart would have to navigate through the throngs of people, cows, dogs, goats, kids, motorbikes, etc. Somehow it all works out. It is amazing to spend so much time around Muslims that are not at all westernized. They look like every picture you have ever seen, and they are smiling, waving, and totally friendly. I was wearing an Obama Tee Shirt and they responded well. They are not like the stereotype enemy they are made out to be. All of the women wear saris, very colorful for the Hindu women, black for the Muslim women. The Muslim women have tattoos.<br /><br />We then camelled (if that is word) to a Gypsy encampment. I have never met real Gypsies before. They are like everyone else - trying to sell us jewelry, and other things. Lots of Gypsy children were playing and running around. I was uptight walking around among them, thinking at any moment I would be pick pocketed, but I quickly came to feel totally safe and they knew they would get our money anyway from sales. Once again we were all charmed by the goats. Damn they are cute.<br /><br />In these villages the main things that they sell are bracelets and weavings.<br />We then were driven back through the very narrow streets to a cacophony of sound as both the Muslim call to prayer was wailing from the various Mosques loudspeakers while simultaneously the Bells and Chants from the Hindu temples reverberated down the alleys. Everyone from the village, and especially the young kids who ran alongside of us would wave and say Hi. Even the old Muslim men would respond and wave back to us. We couldn’t figure out who was having more fun, us on our camel excursion through these tiny villages, or the Indians looking at the crazy tourists pulled by camels. I think it was fun for all, Indian and tourist alike.<br /><br />Although the state is a dry state they allowed us to drink the wine that we had brought with us. I will always bring a wine opener with me on future trips. It is hard to find one in a dry state! Back at the hotel they had a dinner for us, followed by demonstration of men doing local dances. The dances were performed with long sticks and had a martial arts flavor to them.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-19951000999806778372008-11-13T09:33:00.000-08:002008-11-15T09:55:02.773-08:00Towards the Pakistan Border<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MxLGO6UI/AAAAAAAACxk/gP6UCRzsIhE/s1600-h/IMG_3840.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MxLGO6UI/AAAAAAAACxk/gP6UCRzsIhE/s400/IMG_3840.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268944127978826050" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MwiKyfMI/AAAAAAAACxc/V3tSVlcsZeQ/s1600-h/IMG_3832.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MwiKyfMI/AAAAAAAACxc/V3tSVlcsZeQ/s400/IMG_3832.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268944116992081090" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MwTXuDHI/AAAAAAAACxU/fQrdGxJ1rKw/s1600-h/IMG_3816.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MwTXuDHI/AAAAAAAACxU/fQrdGxJ1rKw/s400/IMG_3816.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268944113019784306" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MwDqdVSI/AAAAAAAACxM/37leMhDjVSw/s1600-h/IMG_3797.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MwDqdVSI/AAAAAAAACxM/37leMhDjVSw/s400/IMG_3797.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268944108803413282" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MvrUhdjI/AAAAAAAACxE/7-GxDmZnSDU/s1600-h/IMG_3790.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8MvrUhdjI/AAAAAAAACxE/7-GxDmZnSDU/s400/IMG_3790.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268944102268958258" /></a><br /><br /><br />We were awakened by the call to prayer from the nearby Mosques. We left the hotel and headed out for the Rann of Kutch. Kutch is an administrative district in the Indian State of Gujarat. It has a border with Pakistan. Indian and Pakistan have fought 3 wars since Independence from the British. As you can imagine there is lots of security and military bases.<br /><br />We drove through the Rann of Kutch which is a large desert into the Tribal Areas on the Pakistan Border. We visited various villages. The villages were quite small, maybe 20 houses per village. They were all of the same religion (and usually all related). The village could either be a Hindu village or a Muslim village.<br />In the Muslim villages we were prohibited to take pictures. The people in these villages were extremely friendly and the house we visited was a showplace (all 1 room of it). <br /><br />In this area of India, we are told, there is no Hindu – Muslim problem. We saw many different types of weaving: scarves, quilts, iphone cases (yea – or least I am using it as an Iphone case what ever it was made for). They had a strong earthquake here a few years ago and it killed 30,000 people. The houses have been rebuilt. Generally they are one room, round in shape. No kitchen, they cook outside. The people are all extremely friendly. Many are refugees from the various wars who are rebuilding their lives. They are very much matriarchal societies. The women earn most of the money, and the men for the most part sit around.<br /><br />The roads were so bumpy I couldn’t use my Ipod and listen to the Indian Music on it. (I call it the soundtrack of India and Cathy and I like to listen to it as we drive through the countryside.<br /><br />This was a far away from the hustle and bustle of Mumbai as you can get. It was a great visit. We then drove through the desert and saw a heard of camels just lying around in the sun. Camels are still used as beasts of burden in this area.<br /><br />We arrived at a resort (not the Miami beach type – the rooms were simple tents) that was in the middle of nowhere, that pilgrims use. We had an excellent vegetarian meal there.<br /><br />We then had a long drive back to Kutch, drove to the night market, did some more shopping and returned to the hotel to eat, pack and prepare for tomorrows drive to Zainbad.<br /><br />Hopefully we will have better internet and I can post some pictures!Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-51714784048491285262008-11-12T17:18:00.000-08:002008-11-15T09:44:56.868-08:00Into The Desert<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KVSS6AbI/AAAAAAAACw8/xl8VLldhSAc/s1600-h/IMG_3754.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KVSS6AbI/AAAAAAAACw8/xl8VLldhSAc/s400/IMG_3754.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268941449851437490" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KUhzj3uI/AAAAAAAACw0/EtnqZule-hg/s1600-h/IMG_3742.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KUhzj3uI/AAAAAAAACw0/EtnqZule-hg/s400/IMG_3742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268941436835061474" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KUHJvrzI/AAAAAAAACws/B0kqDsNHZX4/s1600-h/IMG_3736.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KUHJvrzI/AAAAAAAACws/B0kqDsNHZX4/s400/IMG_3736.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268941429680353074" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KT6ic5iI/AAAAAAAACwk/mTBQ6PVMI8A/s1600-h/IMG_3731.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KT6ic5iI/AAAAAAAACwk/mTBQ6PVMI8A/s400/IMG_3731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268941426294318626" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KTZaXc_I/AAAAAAAACwc/kHwK8jht8l0/s1600-h/IMG_3728.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SR8KTZaXc_I/AAAAAAAACwc/kHwK8jht8l0/s400/IMG_3728.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268941417402037234" /></a><br /><br />We flew North from Mumbai to the state of Gujarat to the city of Bhuj, the major town of Kutch. The topology is completely different from other areas. It is basically desert. It reminds me of the area around Santa Fe. It could be used as a setting for westerns.<br /><br />We walked around the old part of the city. Dirt roads, lots of cows (watch where you walk). There is an old Palace of the Maharajah that was destroyed in the recent earthquake. The area we are staying in is predominately Muslim. Lots of mosques and you hear the call to prayer coming from many different directions. I have always enjoyed hearing it.<br /><br />Not only does our Hotel serve only vegetarian food, but the whole city is Vegetarian. The entire State of Gujarat is also dry and there is no alcohol sold or served. We smuggled 2 bottles in our suitcase, but can only drink in our room.<br /><br />We will be traveling to the Tribal Areas near the Pakistan Border and the area is prohibited except with special permission from the Police. We spend 3 hours at the police station in Bhuj getting the proper papers signed.<br /><br />We then went to a very tiny village. The bus drove as far as it could down a dirt lane. Occasionally the driver’s assistant would get out of the bus with a large wooden stick, and raise the power lines overhead, so they wouldn’t touch the buss as we crept down the lane.<br /><br />The bus finally stopped and walked down a narrow dirt path. Adults and little kids would come out of their house and stare at us, then say Hello and ask your name. I think that was the only English that they knew. The kids followed us down the path, until we arrived at a settlement of approximately 5 houses. The village leader has acquired textiles, dresses, etc. from the people via a kind of barter system. He has an enormous collection. They spread old blankets out on the dirt path and started showing his textiles to sell. We were surrounded by the villagers, who quietly watched as we looked at and bought things that interested us. The kids were very shy and cute. Things probably haven’t changed much in this village in the last few hundred years.<br /><br />Throughout this trip I have been wearing various Obama Tee Shirts. People are very pleased. When I am asked where I am from I always say “Obama” and they invariably reply: America.<br /><br />After shopping in this tiny village we returned to our hotel for a vegetarian meal, then retreated to our room for a glass of clandestine wine. I wonder if people are ever thrown in jail for drinking in their room.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-62137955881843297212008-11-11T17:11:00.000-08:002008-11-11T18:04:33.733-08:00A day of Shopping in Mumbai<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovdYvAecI/AAAAAAAACvk/Ed3HcqoV7MI/s1600-h/IMG_3726.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovdYvAecI/AAAAAAAACvk/Ed3HcqoV7MI/s400/IMG_3726.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267574896065542594" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovdAv4YNI/AAAAAAAACvc/BHDAjAYJF5s/s1600-h/IMG_3719.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovdAv4YNI/AAAAAAAACvc/BHDAjAYJF5s/s400/IMG_3719.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267574889626755282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovcsXYhLI/AAAAAAAACvU/AzeSKLgbFcI/s1600-h/IMG_3716.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovcsXYhLI/AAAAAAAACvU/AzeSKLgbFcI/s400/IMG_3716.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267574884155294898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovcOe_FqI/AAAAAAAACvM/cDKmNZU5PHQ/s1600-h/IMG_3709.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovcOe_FqI/AAAAAAAACvM/cDKmNZU5PHQ/s400/IMG_3709.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267574876134119074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovbCgSouI/AAAAAAAACvE/ECc_JrvjQ4U/s1600-h/IMG_3705.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRovbCgSouI/AAAAAAAACvE/ECc_JrvjQ4U/s400/IMG_3705.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267574855738499810" /></a><br />A day of Shopping in Mumbai.<br /><br />We awoke at the Taj Hotel and started out for a day of shopping. Nothing could be more different then the transition from the filth, noise and spirituality of Varanasi to the wealth, and hustle and bustle of Mumbai (Bombay). Bombay has two temperatures throughout the year. Hot or Very Hot. Today was Hot and Humid.<br /><br />We primarily went to clothing stores within walking distance of the Taj. There are many contemporary shops, but the Indian Glam ones are the most fun. These people like glitz, and jewelry and sequins!<br /><br />Cathy and I were hoping to meet with the Mayor of Bombay to present the Sister City of Los Angeles Proclamation to him from the Mayor of Los Angeles but unfortunately he was travelling and away from the city. We will schlep it back to LA and bring it on our next trip.<br /><br />I taxied over to Church Gate train station to watch the Tiffin Wallas at noon. Hundreds of thousands of wives prepare lunch for their husbands who are working in the city. Each day the Tiffin Wallas pick up the lunches in metal containers (called Tiffins) and bring them by train to the station closest to the husband’s workplace. As dozens of the Tiffin Wallas get off the train they meet and redistribute the Tiffins so that they can efficiently be delivered. Hundreds of thousands of lunches are distributed and very few mistakes are made. This system employs thousands of people and is amazing to watch.<br /><br />We were so hot and humid we were constantly drinking water. We gave up on showering before dinner, it would have been pointless. You would just get hot and sticky the moment you stepped outside. We did have drinks by the pool before leaving the hotel for dinner.<br /><br />Just after Sunset 4 of us crammed into a taxi and drove out to Marine Drive to walk along the promenade overlooking the sea. We then had a misadventure trying to taxi to dinner at Trishna Restaurant. It is difficult to explain to a cab driver who speaks no English that he is going the wrong direction. Eventually we got him to take us back to our Hotel, where a different cab driver got us to the restaurant. Taxis are very cheap in Mumbai, many cab rides only cost the equivalent of 50 cents or less. Many times we would take a taxi and when we arrived at our destination we would ask what the cost of the cab ride is. The answer from the driver would be “Whatever you wish to pay”. I am sure we always overpaid at that point, but it was a nice way of pricing a ride!<br /><br />Trishna is one of the best seafood restaurants in the world. It is a combination of Indian and Chinese food. It has a huge menu. We had Shrimp, Crab, Fish, Calamari, Biryani Rice, etc. I think we ate every variety of animal that lives in the sea!<br /><br />Mumbai is like New York, 24 hours a day of work and pleasure. It is a great city to visit, and we will always return. <br /><br />We staggered back to our hotel room after a very full day and packed for morning flight north to the city of Bhuj.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-27896531635281121982008-11-09T21:09:00.001-08:002008-11-10T09:37:03.408-08:00Sunrise on the Ganges<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDmrUEYGI/AAAAAAAACuk/Ipdva_tPqPU/s1600-h/IMG_3677.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDmrUEYGI/AAAAAAAACuk/Ipdva_tPqPU/s400/IMG_3677.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266893358462427234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDl7kAfgI/AAAAAAAACuc/F0Et_FTcFMU/s1600-h/IMG_3670.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDl7kAfgI/AAAAAAAACuc/F0Et_FTcFMU/s400/IMG_3670.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266893345644379650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDlXoiZbI/AAAAAAAACuU/uVx2E4gXlaI/s1600-h/IMG_3667.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDlXoiZbI/AAAAAAAACuU/uVx2E4gXlaI/s400/IMG_3667.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266893335999702450" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDlLCvz6I/AAAAAAAACuM/pkG6XIjybQg/s1600-h/IMG_3689.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDlLCvz6I/AAAAAAAACuM/pkG6XIjybQg/s400/IMG_3689.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266893332619972514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDkYqvi5I/AAAAAAAACuE/IuyHkCO9vew/s1600-h/IMG_3680.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRfDkYqvi5I/AAAAAAAACuE/IuyHkCO9vew/s400/IMG_3680.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266893319097518994" /></a><br />We got up at 5am to leave by bus to return to the Ganges. Last night I received an email from an Indian friend who said “Every one should see the sunrise above the Ganges once in their life”. This was our time.<br /><br />It was dark when we arrived at the Ganges and boarded our small boat. We were rowed by the two oarsmen parallel to the shore. All along the Ganges in Varanasi there are Ghats, stairs that lead down to the river. These are ancient pathways for pilgrims and worshipers to descend to the water. The Ghats are steep and some quite wide others are narrow. Above the Ghats are mansions and palaces, now mostly abandoned by the wealthy owners and turned over to religious organizations. We saw mansions converted to Ashrams. Some appeared to be abandoned. <br /><br />The city of Varnarsi is the holiest city of India. Unlike the Vatican, the city is in disrepair and appears, dirty, and broken down. Our guide tried to explain to us that Varanasi is not about outward appearances, but rather the spiritual experience. Fire is used in much of Hindu rituals and it was great to see the firepot, aflame, raised by the priest over his head greeting the rising sun. Bells, chants, music all were playing but at much less chaotic rate the previous night.<br /><br />We disembarked by the Ghat used for cremations and walked beside giant stacks of wood used for the funeral pyres. We then walked through the ancient narrow alleyways. We had to avoid cow patties and the occasional cow. We were headed through these very narrow paths towards the Golden Temple. All of time we were walking we were hoping not to get separated from the tour guide, because we would never be able to navigate back to the bus. The pathways were lined on both sides by homes, shops and food sellers. The people were extremely poor. <br /><br />As we approached the Golden Temple, the security vastly increased, there were soldiers everywhere. The Golden Temple is the holiest spot for Hindus and all Hindus try to go to it once in their lifetime. There is a mosque built directly next to it and there are inter-religious problems. There had been a bombing at the temple and many were killed a few years ago. Non-Hindus are not allowed in the Temple but you can walk by it and see its golden spires. To even walk by it, you have to leave all cameras, cell phones and even pens behind. You walk through a metal detector and then are hand searched. They are serious about this!<br /><br />They thought of all protections in this area but one, as I walked down a narrow alley, I felt liquid raining down on me. I looked up at the clear sky between the houses and saw no clouds. I then saw a bunch of large monkeys jumping across roofs away from where I stood. Damn monkey peed on me! Oh well, I was assured it brings good luck!<br /><br />We returned to our bus, drove to the hotel and prepared to checkout for our flight back to Delhi and onto Mumbai (Bombay).<br /><br />All our lives we have heard of the Taj Mahal. I had always expected seeing the building to be the highlight of our trip to India. Now I am not so sure. Experiencing Varnarsi with its poverty and its chaos, while seeing first hand the people’s reverence for the Ganges was a moving experience. The Intersection of Fire (via the priests firepots), the sound of bells, chanting, fireworks, and car horns, Smoke from the thousands of charcoal fires and burning bodies, coupled with the mass of people, the beggars, the infirm and dying all overwhelm you. We were all glad we went to this special city, it was an amazing experience.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-88077108202585692352008-11-09T09:53:00.000-08:002008-11-09T15:50:10.366-08:00Even Fellini Couldn’t Have Dreamed This Up!<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzC4u0fI/AAAAAAAACtI/OxaYS3JtAcg/s1600-h/IMG_3646.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzC4u0fI/AAAAAAAACtI/OxaYS3JtAcg/s400/IMG_3646.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzHJnqrI/AAAAAAAACtQ/0d6ehfQ6U8s/s1600-h/IMG_3631.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzHJnqrI/AAAAAAAACtQ/0d6ehfQ6U8s/s400/IMG_3631.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzoERqpI/AAAAAAAACtY/mPOemRJb158/s1600-h/IMG_3625.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzoERqpI/AAAAAAAACtY/mPOemRJb158/s400/IMG_3625.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzxsov5I/AAAAAAAACtg/x9F8tFtP8WA/s1600-h/IMG_3615.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRcjzxsov5I/AAAAAAAACtg/x9F8tFtP8WA/s400/IMG_3615.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />We got up at 4am to catch a flight to Delhi. We then caught a flight to Varanasi, the most holy city in India. We really had no idea what we were to experience there. Boy were we blown away!<br /><br />We went first to a small city near Varanasi named: Sarnath, the spiritual center of Buddhism (where Buddha gave his first sermon in 500 BC). After he obtained enlightenment he came to this sacred spot. Buddhists from all around the world attempt to make a pilgrimage to this site. Like all religious places in India it is surrounded by beggars. After visiting the site and the architectural ruins we saw the remains of the column of Asoka. Cathy and I were familiar with the story of Asoka who was a ruthless king who eventually renounced all violence and brought Buddhism to India.<br /><br />On the way back to our hotel, before our evening activities I saw something that gave me great pleasure. Varanasi might be a spiritual center, but it is very poor and dirty. The housing all seemed to be in various phases of disrepair. The houses have flat roofs. From many, many houses, people were on top of their roofs flying kites into battle against other kites. For anyone who has read the book: The Kite Runner, it was great to see the words on the page come to life. I never expected to see this type of kite flying. <br /><br />We then went to a nearby Buddhist Temple.<br /><br />We returned to our hotel and prepared for our visit at night to visit Ma Gana (Ganges River). We had no idea what was in store for us! We drove in a bus though ever more congested traffic till we could go no further. We then got off our bus and got into Pedal Rickshaws. These bicycle like carriages could carry 2 people and we were transported what seemed like several miles towards the river. The traffic was crazy. Horns were blaring, people on foot, on bicycles, convoys of police driving through sirens sounding, cows and bulls blocking everyone, motor bikes darting in and out. The street it self was in disrepair. vendors were everywhere hawking, postcards, food, etc. There were mosques along the way with prayers being sung, music playing. The air was thick with smoke, sometimes from the coal fires of the vendors cooking food, from the exhaust of thousands of motorbikes and Tuk-Tuks. The smells varied from Cow Dung, to great smelling food being cooked, to rotting garbage. A small truck came through making a sound like a jet engine creating a giant fog mist over everyone. We quickly realized it was mosquito control and covered our faces. The throngs of people continued through the narrow streets towards the river. We still didn’t know what to expect.<br /><br />When we reached the river there were steps leading down to the water. We proceeded down the long flight of steps, where a boat had been reserved for us. There must have been a least 100 boats. Most people however remained on the steps waiting and watching.<br /><br />Our boat had two attendants that rowed us out into the Ganges. We were silently rowed down the river as our guide explained to us the religious significance to Hindus of the River and the city of Varanasi. As our boat moved slowly through the dark, down the river we watched the shoreline and saw the multitude of stairs. It was very dark and we were rowed towards many burning fires. As we neared we could see these were cremation ceremonies. This is one of the most sacred places to cremate the dead. We saw dead bodies being lowered into the Ganges to be washed before they were placed on the funeral pyre. Smoke rose everywhere. We then paddled back to where the priests were beginning the saying of good night to the river. Sacred music was playing over speakers, bells were ringing, fire was raging in the firepots of the priests. The crowd was clapping. The ceremony continued. Then great displays of Fireworks were set off from barges in the river. We watched all of this from our little boat in the river in amazement. These sacred rites were so theatrical and mind-blowing you could understand why pilgrims come from all over the world to experience this. Docking the boat we watched people bath in the polluted water. The crowds then rose from the steps and reversed themselves as they walked away from the river. For those of us who have never experienced anything like this, it was an amazing evening.<br /><br />Tomorrow we get up at 5:30am for a return to Ganges.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-50940705823405336252008-11-08T09:17:00.000-08:002008-11-08T15:06:06.882-08:00Why We Came to Kolkata<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ92jxokI/AAAAAAAACso/vm7nndm8W1A/s1600-h/IMG_3549.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ92jxokI/AAAAAAAACso/vm7nndm8W1A/s400/IMG_3549.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ-GYPXgI/AAAAAAAACsw/wKwKzrZWwO0/s1600-h/IMG_3556.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ-GYPXgI/AAAAAAAACsw/wKwKzrZWwO0/s400/IMG_3556.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ-Z4QufI/AAAAAAAACs4/TmIftxHjVaA/s1600-h/IMG_3564.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ-Z4QufI/AAAAAAAACs4/TmIftxHjVaA/s400/IMG_3564.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ-zslNZI/AAAAAAAACtA/rdOQw0iIKE4/s1600-h/IMG_3566.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRXJ-zslNZI/AAAAAAAACtA/rdOQw0iIKE4/s400/IMG_3566.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />Today we validated the reason that we went to Kolkata. It was to spend the day with Darshan Shaw. She is an amazing woman that founded the Weavers Studio in Kolkata. We had met her previously in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She left corporate life in India and has devoted herself to maintaining the textile techniques that were developed over 1000’s of years in India. She has recently moved into her own 5 story building that provides a center for the preservation and continuation of these indigenous crafts. She now has over 120 workers that come from small villages and learn the various techniques from weaving, to dying, to multiple ways of creating designs on the fabrics. She provides these poor people with much more than a job. Medical services are provided including family planning and HIV awareness. There are many outreach programs provided by the Weaving Studio. She also collects and preserves old textiles so that they can be studied by textile artists. It was an inspiration to see what she has accomplished by the force of her will and her vision. The day with her made the trip to Kolkata memorable. After a tour of the facility, we went to her retail store where we purchased textiles and were measured for some custom outfits.<br /><br />Outside of the gallery we once again saw the abject poverty of Kolkata. There are thousands of rickshaws pulled by men carrying people throughout this crowded city. They go racing down the street, the better pullers are shoeless because they can stop and corner quicker. I really thought that rickshaws were non-existent and I was amazed to see them. The people riding in them were not tourists but Kolkatans who use them regularly.<br /><br />We also saw a man in a little sidewalk stall who irons clothing. The neighbors drop off their wrinkled clothing and he irons them. Amazingly as you can see in the picture, the iron is not electric; rather it is heated over burning coals. <br /><br />In this city of contrasts, we then went to Darshan’s home for drinks, entertainment and dinner. She lives in a very quiet, well protected area of Kolkata. There are no signs of the poor in her area! The streets are protected by police and private guards. She lives with her mother in a quite large 2 floor apartment. She has a roof deck that is totally landscaped with trees, grass, etc. You would never imagine you are on the roof of a house, rather you think you are in a lush garden. She had arranged for drinks, a performance of classical Indian Music and dinner on the deck. There must have been at least 60 guests. The musicians were amazing. The Tabla (a kind of Bongo drum) player is 22 years old. He told me after the performance that he started playing Tabla at age 2. He further said he is the 34th generation of Tabla players in his family! They can trace the family music tradition back to the 1100’s.<br /><br />The music, food, and day were perfect! We will be up at 4:00am tomorrow for a flight to Delhi and a change of planes to fly to the holy city of Varinasi.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2508463964960607424.post-9064601651205006942008-11-07T08:07:00.000-08:002008-11-07T18:32:55.327-08:00Kolkata<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5QQA6k7I/AAAAAAAACsI/hTcLvXOkUjQ/s1600-h/IMG_3493.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5QQA6k7I/AAAAAAAACsI/hTcLvXOkUjQ/s400/IMG_3493.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266107921874981810" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5QGvuvZI/AAAAAAAACsA/_scro7KMwuI/s1600-h/IMG_3498.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5QGvuvZI/AAAAAAAACsA/_scro7KMwuI/s400/IMG_3498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266107919386983826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5PpZuXMI/AAAAAAAACr4/sBQlErGEHzw/s1600-h/IMG_3505.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5PpZuXMI/AAAAAAAACr4/sBQlErGEHzw/s400/IMG_3505.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266107911510056130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5PG_biiI/AAAAAAAACrw/TGxTD57UOrk/s1600-h/IMG_3506.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5PG_biiI/AAAAAAAACrw/TGxTD57UOrk/s400/IMG_3506.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266107902272965154" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5Om5WLeI/AAAAAAAACro/sP0H3t0r7vA/s1600-h/IMG_3510.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4aV1rCGnICY/SRT5Om5WLeI/AAAAAAAACro/sP0H3t0r7vA/s400/IMG_3510.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266107893657513442" /></a><br /><br />After a fitful night of sleep due to Jetlag, up and out to discover Kolkata. Most people who visit India do not come here. It is huge, dirty, noisy and clogged with traffic. It is also situated near Bangladesh. Quick history lesson, when India achieved its freedom there was an East Pakistan and a West Pakistan. West Pakistan is the state we now think of as Pakistan. East Pakistan was carved out of the Indian State of Bengal. The city of Kolkata remained in the severed state of Bengal which is now called the Indian State of West Bengal. Kolkata until the early 20th century was the British Capital of India and the major city and financial capital of Bengal. When the British carved East Pakistan out it was separated from its major city Kolkata and was born a crippled country. It eventually obtained its own status as a country freed from Pakistan and re-named itself Bangladesh. It is still a very poor country. Over 6 million people commute to Kolkata every day for work, mainly from Bangladesh. They are extremely poor.<br /><br />Few tourists who visit India would stop to see Kolkata on a first Indian visit. All though it has lots of culture, it is not a pretty city. It is chaotic, poor and filthy. If you can get passed that there are of course many things to do and see. Plus Bengali food is good! There are lots of beggars, both young mothers with children and the old and crippled. Our guides all say, to not give them money for you will be immediately surrounded by dozens more. We follow his advice but it is very uncomfortable to see such poverty.<br /><br />We went to the giant flower market and walked around. We saw many street barbers – I passed on getting a shave! The people are amazing, while carrying heavy loads on their heads they stop and smile for a picture and continue on. We then drove to an area where they make statues of gods and goddesses for the many festivals. Kolkata is a festival crazy city with over 500 festivals a year. We then visited a Hindu Temple. The temple is situated on the holy river Ganges and people use the river for spiritual ceremonies.<br /><br />In the afternoon after a large lunch (these people like to eat!) we visited another Hindu Temple where 150 goats a day are sacrificed. The meat is given to the poor. Luckily, for us, the sacrifices are in the morning and we were visiting in the afternoon. The good news is up until the British put a stop to it; they didn’t sacrifice goats but sacrificed people at this temple. <br /><br />The temple has been targeted by Al Qaeda and Osama bin Laden and has much security around it. Next to the Temple is Mother Teresa’s original hospital. It is still in use serving the dying. The guide said if we wanted to look around in the building we could, but don’t spend a lot of time because most of the people are dying of communicable diseases. We all declined to visit the hospital.<br /><br />In the evening we went to a really interesting cultural presentation. It was an art show of Japanese artists followed by Indian Dancing. The Governor of the State of West Bengal arrived for the ceremony surrounded by security. He is Mahatma Gandhi’s Grandson. We felt safe!<br /><br />We then went out for a typical Bengali dinner, and returned to the hotel for drinks and hopefully a full night of rest.Cliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00529154119974045947noreply@blogger.com1