Looking for work...

Because it seems as though I'm losing money from my back pocket, I've been looking for some work. Things are downright cheap in India, but everything starts adding up over time. $4 to sleep at the Salvation Army, $2 for dinner, $3 for a pair of pants that fall apart in a couple of days, $3 for twenty-five over sweetened street chai's, $1 for some bananas to feed the begging children, and $4 on my third pair of flip flops, because my other two were stolen. I've come across different job opportunities over the past month, such as scamming tourist shop owners and teaching Yoga in Goa, but I wouldn't feel wholesome ripping people, who rip me off and I don't know how to teach yoga. But today is different, I have a grueling job for 10 hours in a Bollywood movie, acting as a massage therapist, getting paid a a mere $40 a day, which is high for Indian standards...getting back to the bus ride from Rishikesh to Delhi...

After stopping 20 times at Indian rest stops, the bus arrived in Delhi at 5am. With a severe headache and sore throat, I pondered what I should next. Knowing that after stepping one foot off the bus, I would be attacked by touts and savages, I grabbed onto the Westerner I saw nearly get run over by the large black cow. His name was Paul and he was from the U.K. We also met a Austrian hotel owner named Wolf. We decided to share a auto rickshaw to Paharganj or otherwise known as the biggest shit hole in Delhi, where we could find a cheap crack hotel to rest our heads. I was going to take a train later on the same day to a Vipassana Mediation center outside of Delhi, but did not want to sit and get hassled at the train station for hours on end. I was already feeling extremely cranky and on the verge of shouting profanity at people, so I was willing to pay $6 for a 5 hour stay in a crap hotel. We got to Paharganj, while it was still dark out and walked down the feces covered streets of the Main Bazaar, trying to locate a cheap hotel. After stepping in a few pile of shit, we found a windowless hotel and I bid my two friends farewells. Before retreating to my room, Wolf offered me work as a Yoga instructor at his beach bungalow Hotel in Goa. Only problem is, I don't know how to teach yoga. While lying on my firm mattress, my mind began scheming. Maybe I could pull this yoga teaching thing off. We could perform the one yoga position I know well. I could tell my students, "Downward dog all hour folks..." ...I love India...to be continued...xoxo

Rickshaws, buses, trains, and automoblies

On the highway, occasionally we'll encounter a car driving in the opposite direction, on the wrong side of the road. You'd think they would at least move over for the traffic that is abiding by the law, but no, we have to move off the road for them. Whenever such incidents happen, I'll give Jodie the, "I'm confused" blank look, he always replies, "This is India mam," meaning that anything is possible. Getting back to Delhi...

After spending some time in Delhi, I was bored of my windowless, cockroach infested hotel and needed to move on. I spent Thanksgiving in my room, eating Chinese take-out, while watching a Sikh religious ceremony on Television. The following day, I left for Hardiwar in the late afternoon by train and knew I was in for a treat. The train obviously needed a break, because it stopped for an hour or so in the middle of nowhere. We arrived in Haridwar two hours late. I was slightly concerned that it was nearing 10pm and I was arriving in a complete foreign city. My first lesson of Haridwar was never get in a auto rickshaw with a angry driver. Leaving the train station a young guy asked if I needed a Auto rickshaw, I said yes and he quoted me 100 rupees (two dollars) to take me to my Ashram. He ran off to get the rickshaw and I asked another driver how much it should cost. He quoted me 80 rupees, so I went with the second driver. The first driver came around and flew into a rage. He threw off his hat and screamed at the second driver in Hindi. All the while I'm sitting in the back of the rickshaw, wide eyed, wondering if this was going to escalate into a fist fight. While the two drivers spit and exchanged loud, harsh Hindi profanity, I tried slipping out of the rickshaw, only to find myself coerced into going with the first driver for 80 rupees. The already overly aggressive driver, drove me down the main drag in a furry, weaving in and out of buses 20 times our size. I thought these were my last moments on Earth, but somehow I made it to the Ashram intact. Speechless, I handed him the money and walked towards the Ashram office, wishing to curl up in the fetile postion and suck my thumb. I got a room for $1.50 a night which came with mosqutios, a ghastly smell, and a downright institution feel. I attached my mosquito netting to the broken ceiling fan above my rock hard bed and tried to sleep. The next morning I felt far from rested and the incredible stentch forced me to venture out on the streets by 8am. The day consisted of being the only foreigner dodging beggars and observing Indian families bathing away their sins in the Ganges. The next day I boarded a run down city bus and was off to Rishikesh. In a constant state of confusion of my whereabouts, I asked a man if we had arrived in Rishikesh.

La, la, la...

Because I attempt to avoid eye contact and conversation with most people, I think I've forgotten how to speak. Being the only foreigner in Haridwar, I was stopped yesterday to take a photograph of two Indian men standing by the Ganges. When they asked me where I was from, I stumbled on my spoken words like a insecure teenager. My Indian angel, Enu, told me before departing Delhi that it might be best not to announce that I was American, so I told the men I was from Vancouver, Canada. To my surprise one of the men informed me he lives in San Francisco. I wanted to hug and embrace him, but I thought this might frighten him, so I resisted the urge, instead I told them that I too once lived in San Francisco. Getting back to Jaipur...




Despite my obsession with getting worms at the Monkey temple, this was the highlight of my trip in India so far. When I returned back to the Hotel, I found two of my travel mates sharing hot chai in the lounge. I expressed my enthusiasm for the free Monkey Temple and decided we would return the next day. We went upstairs to check on Nate, who had vomited all over the bathroom toilet. He lay in bed with the chills, attempting to figure out what made him sick. "I think it was the milk in the cereal I had this morning," he would say. "No love," I'd reply, "I too had the milk and I'm not vomiting all over the toilet." This interaction went on for a while, as we watched a baby water buffalo get malled by a pack of female tigers on Animal Planet.




Before departing Jaipur the next day Jodie took us to the Monkey Temple. On our way, my travel mates informed me we were going to stay at the Sheraton in Agra that night. I sat there exressionless, while my travel mates were expressing their joy for the gym and miniature golf. Then we started the trek to the fascinating Monkey Temple. Before long, two of my travel mates turned around midway to the temple, because they felt that everything looked like it was dying. I wanted to say,"Well, we're all dying," but I thought this might not be the proper conversation to have with these people. Before I had time to think, I informed Nate I was going to be taking off on my own. As we made our way to Agra, my mind ran circles where I should go next. Upon arriving at the Sheraton, I felt more out of place than I had felt the entire trip in India. I was wearing a long, orange hippie skirt and the same smelly, sleeveless shirt I had worn for the past four days. This was not my cup of tea, so I had Jodie take me to a windowless, shitty hotel in Agra, where I attempted to reestablish my purpose for visiting India.

Since there were random knocks at my door and anonymous phone calls to my room during the night, I had no problem getting up at 5am to go see the Taj Mahal. Jodie had already swung by the Sheraton to pick up my travel mates. I hopped into the mini van to hear stories of lavish room service and treadmills at the Sheraton. We got to the Taj, where we had to wait in a corrupt line for over an hour to see one of the seven wonders of the world. Finally, we got to see the great Taj Mahal standing tall in a midst of fog. Hundreds of tourists snapped photograph after photograph. People seemed to spend more time viewing the monument through the lens of their camera, than simply observing its magnificent presence. When departing, Nate informed me that he took over three hundred pictures of the monument. I wondered if he had even seen the Taj or whether he was too preoccupied with getting the perfect picture to place in a frame above his fireplace mantle. We went back to the Sheraton, where I bid my farewells to the my travel mates. Off I went with my new friend, Jodie, back to dirty ass, polluted Delhi, to figure out my next plan of action.




I had a bad cold, with a fever by this time and Jodie offered me a "tablet," as he called it, that would fix me right up. He sensed my uneasiness and he told me, "not a sex pill." Jodie blasted his Indian music and we stopped at McDonald's where they served no beef burgers, only chicken, and primarily veggie burgers. We also stopped at non-tourist approved rest stops for chai, where I pissed in a hole in the ground. Jodie and I chatted the entire way. He described his miserable arranged marriage and other Indian customs, along with his desire to leave India.

I called my Indian angel, Enu, to inform him I was coming back to Delhi and asked if he could suggest a hotel where I could collect myself and heal for a few days. Arriving back in Delhi only reconfirmed how much I hated it. Loud, polluted, intense madness everywhere you looked. I got situated in my midrange $25 room in Delhi and slept for hours on end. I spent a few days in the confinement of my hotel room. It was difficult stepping foot out of the hotel. You had to constantly be on the look out for crazy drivers who will run you right the fuck over...I love India...xoxo...to be continued...

Not so holy...

Sitting in one of the holiest cites in Northern India, Haridwar, I'm feeling far from holy. I slept at my very first Ashram last night that more or less resembled a prison cell. Anyhow, getting back to Jaipur...

My travel mates and I stayed in rather fancy hotel, with a pristine swimming pool and chandeliers the size of small cars. We decided to have our driver pick us up at the crack of dawn the next day to take us to some fort by elephant, so we retired early. I was awoken around 5am or so to what sounded like a dying animal. Only after I pulled out my plush green ear plugs, I realized that what I thought was a dying animal, was in fact loud Muslim chanting that echoed throughout the city. It left a eerie, unnerving feeling in my gut. After eating a buffet breakfast in the confinement of our luxury hotel, we went to the fort. The fort was rather dull and I was bored of the tourist bustle. After the fort, our driver drove us to some other tourist place, a palace or something. I informed my travel mates that I would not be going in and walked off on my own, as they waited in line with their cameras ready. I started walking through the madness. Looking at me as though I was a two headed creature, a large group of school children stopped to take a picture of me. I had a clan of rickshaw drivers and begging mothers holding their infants following me. I just continued walking and found myself in a large Hindu temple. I observed how Hindus prayed and interacted with one another. I thought to myself, this isn't so bad, these are beautiful people. Then two young boys came and stood by me and began asking me questions. At the end of the conversation, the older brother informed me that the temple was closing. I looked around and thought it was odd that no one else seemed to be leaving, but ignorantly I walked out of the Temple. I began walking back to the palace, when the older brother came by on his bike and asked if I wanted a ride. I replied, "No thanks, I have no money and I'm not going far." He told me not to worry that he didn't want money. Stupid me, got on the back of his bike and he started to peddle, as his little brother ran after us. He stopped close to the palace on a semi deserted street. (Mom and Pops, you might want to skip this part) I was appalled when I began walking towards the Palace and the older brother cramped my space and said to me, "Let me fuck you in that Temple." I said "No!" He tried pushing me and I took his scrawny ass and slammed him against a wall. I continued onward without turning around. What a little shit I thought to myself. I got back to the parking lot to find our wonderful Indian driver, Jodie, sleeping in the van. Shortly after my travel mates emerged from the palace, praising me for not going in. We made our way back to the hotel. At this time one of my travel mates, Nate, was not feeling well. They all decided to take a nap, while I went with Jodie, to a Hindu Monkey Temple. I requested that Jodie walk up to the Temple with me. We arrived at dusk to find the temple covered with monkeys. I followed Jodie, doing as he did. Taking off my shoes, ringing a bell overhead, getting on my knees, and praying in front of the Monkey god. A temple keeper placed a orange dot on my forehead and poured holy water in my palm. I drank the water. Immediately thereafter I could not stop thinking about having worms. Not such a holy experience, when my germophobic mind keeps telling me that I'm gonna have a tapeworm from going barefoot and drinking holy water out of my dirty ass palm... I love India...xoxo...to be continued...
Not so H

Lunges with convenience

I'm in Delhi drinking hot chi out of a dirty cup, while sitting on an ancient computer. I left my friends yesterday to travel solo. I realized that I don't travel like others do. I'd much rather be sexually harassed, sleep in dirty hotels where the front desk help looks like a bunch of criminals, get random knocks on my door at all hours, than stay at the Sheraton. Some might call it self sabotage, but I prefer the road less traveled.

Things simmered down after my friends arrived in Delhi. After picking them up, I took them past the human feces, cows, drug dealers, and burning garbage to my crack hotel, so I could pick up my back pack. They looked at me like I was insane. How could I have suggested that they would want to stay in such a shit hole? Normal, regular human beings would not subject themselves to such low standards. So, we made our way to a safer area of the city and ended up staying in a fancy quest house with its own terrace and living room for $180 a night. I argued that the cost of this room was way out of my budget, but my friend told me not to worry that he would pay for the room. Delirious and sleep deprived I went to sleep. I awoke the next morning to find my travel mates wearing their jogging outfits ready to go for a run. That's when I started questioning their sanity. How were they going to go jogging wearing in their Lulu Lemon work-out outfit past begging, malnourished children?

While my travel mates preformed lunges and sit-ups, I went downstairs to eat breakfast. I was seated at a large table with nice, stereotypical, frat boy Americans, who spoke of beer and fake breasts. I told them about my plans for extensive meditation here in India and one of the guys said, "I'll meditate...haha...on a bottle of whiskey." Understanding of their ignorance, but knew this conversation was headed nowhere, I retreated back to my room shortly after eating my bowl of cereal. I found my travel mates expressing their enthusiasm for the venture ahead, while drinking Indian beer. Interesting I thought, doing squats to drinking beer. They informed me that they had hired a driver to drive us down to Jaipur from Delhi and take us sight seeing for three days. What? We rented a driver to drive us around India in a safe, clean, A/C mini van? What about getting lost, harassed, shoved, and pick-pocketed at the train station?

So, the driver, Jogainder, conveniently picked us up at the guest house and our journey began. Driving from town to town, we observed India safely through the confinement of our A/C mini van. Stopping only at clean tourist-approved rest areas for a bite and tea. After five hours of driving and seeing a handful of dead animals on the road, such as a cow, a couple of dogs, a cat, and a pig, we arrived in Jaipur. Jaipur, known as the "pink city," was no different from the typical madness we had so far seen in India. Hundreds and hundreds of people doing hundreds and hundreds of different things, such as pissing, shitting, begging, and praying...I love India...xoxo...to be continued...

Mommy, am I crazy?

Wow....I met an older Indian man on the airplane that ended up being my father figure during the flight. He bought tea and granola on our layover in London and he had the passenger next to him change seats with me, so I could sit with him. He invited me to a very formal Indian wedding on March 3rd and I happily accepted his invitation. After traveling by air for over 30 hours I finally arrived in Delhi, I found no hotel man waiting to pick me up. I deliriously walked up to the pre-paid taxi line to attempt the trek into Delhi by cab. I carelessly did everything you are warned not to do in all the travel books. I walked out of airport at 6 a.m. and was bombarded by touts offering me this and that. Feeling overwhelmed and slightly lost, I got into a cab that was not assigned to me. The cab driver and another Indian fellow got into the front seat. It dawned on me that this was very dangerous. After thoughts of jumping out of a moving cab and being run over by one of the million rickshaws on the road, the cab dropped me off in one of the worst areas of Delhi. I walked by piles of human waste, cows, burning garbage and entered the first hotel I found. Shady looking men were working the front desk. I got a room for $8 that had no toilet paper and dirty sheets. Smells of cow dung seeped through the open window as I lie there contemplating what I was doing there and whether I had lost my mind. I finally got up and phoned a Indian fellow I had found through my fellowship. I took a rickshaw to meet him. What a lovely man he was. He took me around Delhi and we had coffee. I told him I felt as though I was dreaming and I was concerned for my sanity. Slowly I started to feel better and I was dropped off close to my hotel, so I could attempt the trek back to the airport to try to find my friends that were flying in. I hired a driver, Sanchee. As he drove me in a beat up van in severely congested traffic, I no longer questioned my sanity. I knew I wa insane and just began laughing at the chaotic honking of horns and millions of cars and rickshaws on the road. I made it to the airport. I looked at the 1960's arrivals switchboard, hoping to see that my friends flight had arrived in Delhi and that somehow they could restore me back to sanity. I was concerned when I saw no flight from Hong Kong. I stood there praying and waiting with all the other Indians. Standing there in the same clothes I"d been wearing since I left SF, with frazzled hair, bloodshot eyes, sweaty arm pit stains, with a broken bag in hand. I saw my friends walking out of immigration. I started yelling at them. They mistook me for some crazy lady, until they recognized me. I embraced them and attempted to describe the chaos I had so far experienced, but words cannot describe it...I love India...to be continued...xoxo

Arrival in India - November 21, 2008 4:56:16 AM PST

Just want to let the three of you know I made it to Delhi.  It's crazy here.  I'll write more later.  Love you guys very much.  Mauh xoxo