Kakamega in Western Kenya

The drive to Kagamega took about 7 hours and passed by Lake Naivasha and Lake Nakuru, where I could faintly see the pink glow that indicates hundreds of wading flamingos. We also drove through Kisumu, which is a city on Lake Victoria, the biggest in Africa, which also touches Tanzanian and Ugandan soil. We stayed at a guest house on the outskirts of Kakamega. It offered a variety of dishes, but the common ones are ugali (white mash made from ground corn), sukuma wiki (greens) chips, and chicken.

I had no idea what I'd be doing, but the first farm we visited had two pigs. One was a little guy tethered by his leg to a stick in the ground, and the other a large sow tethered to a tree. Having never dealt with these creatures before, I watched as Flo (a vet from Nairobi) put a metal cable snare around the little pig's snout as someone wrangled the pig still by grabbing its ears. We took length and girth measurements, got a blood sample from a reservoir behind the eye, checked the tongue for cysts (from Taenia Solium), injected it with ivermectin subcutaneously behind the eye, weighed it, and ear-tagged it. This would become the procedure thereafter.

There is something I didn't know about pigs' vocal habits. When they are not bothered, they grunt happily while eating and walking around. When they are hungry, they whine by squealing loudly. But when they are snared by the snout, they wail like they are meeting their end. It doesn't matter how big they are either, the little ones are just more high-pitched. It took some getting used to this, but eventually it didn't bother me and I became quite the pig-wrangler.

One day I was feeling sick, so I asked to go back to the hotel to sleep it off and be closer to the faciities (to put it nicely). I woke up at midnight that night feeling nautious so i grabbed a bucket from the washroom, but I blacked out and when I opened my eyes again, I was flat out on the ground in a cold sweat. I knew this was fairly serious, so I managed to meander to knock on the next room over where Flo was staying before I fainted again, this time in the hallway. When I opened my eyes I saw Flo and another neighbor whom I don't know hovering over me with concerned faces (I later learned that he was asking Flo if SHE needed any help, implying that I was some drunk tourist who was harassing her by knocking on her door then passing out in my boxers! haha). I managed to get some clothes on and we went to a local hospital who checked my blood pressure and temperature. They told me to come back in the morning when the lab staff were there to do tests. It ended up to be a simple case of Giardia that I picked up either from India or from food in Kenya, which 3 days of tinidazole quickly remedied. It became an ongoing joke that Flo had to deal with this muzungu (what little kids call white people, it means white stranger) in his boxers in the middle of the night. Apparantly all I said was 'we have to go' (implying the hospital).

Before we left, we visited Kagamega Forest, a national park. We saw many colobus and red-tailed monkeys and some of the coolest trees I've ever seen. The reason for the interesting trees is that this is Primary forest, untouched by modern development thanks to Kenyan National Park Service. We also saw some baboons crossing the footpaths in front of us. There was a lookout point where we could see much of the forest, but it was a climb to get there. We took matatus there and back (local minibuses) which drive twice as fast as they should due to the potholes and quality of the vehicle itself, but provide quite an exhilarating (albeit dangerous) experience.

I like eating sugarcane. All you do is take a big stalk, tear off the skin with your teeth, and bite off the inside stuff. Then you chew it to get the juice from it and spit out the fibre. It is natural liquid sugar, and provides quite a midday boost of glucose when waiting for matatus!

Limuru- my introduction to Kenya

It's cold in Limuru. I didn't expect it, and nobody told me, so I packed light and caught the flu after 5 days. It's okay, I'm sleeping it off and pumping myself with lemon ginger tea and vitamin C pills. I'm currently staying at the International Livestock Research Institute (ILRI), a posh complex on the west side of Nairobi. I have a beautiful room all to myself, equipped with everything a hotel room could offer plus a small kitchen, and a couch. Yes, a complete contrast from India has taken place, but it will only last a few days. I start researching tomorrow here at the institute, and in a few days I believe we head off to Kisumu, the city on Lake Victoria!

The first thought I had of Kenya in the airport taxi was that it must be the most fertile land I have ever seen! It is a nature-lover's paradise with large, bold flowers, a wide variety of lush greenery, tall healthy trees everywhere, and hundreds of different colorful birds. I am told that the Rift Valley (Western Kenya) puts what I've seen to shame. I can't wait!

I just spent the last 5 days in Limuru volunteering for "The Nest Home", a place where children live whose fathers have left them and mothers are in prison for petty crimes committed in order to survive. I first took a taxi to the half-way house (ironically half way between Nairobi and Limuru!), a place for the mothers after they are released from prison. They also take care of all the babies under 1 year old. There was a 7-day old baby who was also born 1-2 months prematurely who had an eye infection, manifested by yellow liquid coming from her left eye. I carried her - the tiniest baby I had ever seen - as Raymond (the driver) took us to a hospital where an Indian doctor looked after her. I wanted to speak of India with him but he hadn't been there for years. He prescribed some medicines and we returned satisfied. (I asked as I left today how she was, and the infection is gone, praise the Lord!)

I took a matatu (public 15-seater van, the local travel norm) ride to Limuru, situated about 30 minutes north of Nairobi. When I arrived, I was greeted emphatically by 70 children from the ages of 1 to 17. I spent most of my time hanging out with them, playing with them, and supervising them. Their eyes are so beautiful, bulging like the precious moments figurines except in place of the sickly pale skin, these children have gleaming black skintones. I also got to know the maintenance man, John, as I helped him with various projects around the yard like installing windows and cleaning and rearranging a shed. He invited me to his family home for dinner two nights ago- chapati and potato curry! It didn't taste like Indian food, but it was delicious.

I got to meet a German named Lucas who I shared a room with. He is doing the same thing at the Nest Home that I was, but for many months. He and I checked out the town of Limuru, and it reminded me of the towns in Niger, but a bit more well-off. They had cafes, internet joints, butchers, and outdoor fruit sellers. Nobody really called out to us to buy something like I would expect anywhere in India, which took some getting used to (I kept thinking,'when is someone going to harass me to buy something?'). Instead of rickshaws everywhere, there were only matatus driving by and a whole bunch of guys with motorbikes willing to rent out rides.
I fell sick with the flu on the last day, probably because a few of the children had it and sickness travels fast in dense populations. I really am enjoying ILRI though, and these next few days should be relaxing. I'm actually excited to begin working again! Weird!

By the way, were you wondering why Kenyans always win olympic races like the steeplechase? In Nairobi, the elevation is around 1600 metres from sea level, and in Limuru, it was over 2000. Also, most of the land within the triangle between Nairobi, Kisumu (Lake victoria) and Tanzania (to the south) is over 3000 metres in elevation. To put it in perspective, Toronto is around 100 metres, and Vancouver is only 2. I think we know who to cheer for!

Himachal Pradesh and the Punjab

John and I decided to change our plans, cancel our train ticket to Amritsar, and take a 16 hour bus to Manali in search of adventure. This idea was based on the dream to paraglide in the Himalayas (we also had a reference from friends of a safe and good place). Manali is a hill station in Himachal Pradesh (north of Delhi) which was relatively undiscovered until the 1960's. It was just a little mountain village, but now it is a thriving tourist destination with hundreds of shops, hotels, and eateries. In fact, it is so crowded and busy that we decided to stay at a little touristy village just east called Vishist. We met our friend Golnoush by surprise and spent the first afternoon with her hiking to a waterfall. Then we met this tour operator named Ghanthu and realised there was so much to do here! We ended up planning for ourselves a sweet few days that included skiing in a mountain peak, paragliding through 3 valleys, and motorbiking through the winding mountain passes!

The first day, we got in a jeep which took us through countless switchbacks to Rhotang Pass, one of the few peaks that is possible to drive to that still has snow that hasn't melted. We were sporting these ridiculously colored one-piece snow suits that we rented that morning. Mine was flourescent pink, purple, and green, and John's was purple, green and black. I swear the suit was older than me. When I show you pictures, you will think it was the 80's. We quickly realised that the roads didn't actually make it to parts above the snow, so though we had rented the jeep all day to take us up and down the mountain (essentially our gondola), there wasn't much he could do. For all the runs, we had to hike up the snow for about 20 minutes and then have about 3 minute runs down. It was hard work, but super fun- an experience that I never thought I would have. On our last run, we were in the middle of a mountain snow storm, and I was really glad to be wearing the 80's space suit.

The next day we took a jeep to another place called Solang. We hiked up about 500 metres with our paragliding instructors and waited for the winds to subside. I was strapped into the parachute for about 10 minutes when suddenly I was instructed to start running! So I did, not realising that the paraglide behind me was taking flight, and I ran until my feet were lifted off the ground. It was an incredible feeling. The next one was about 30 seconds later when I was 500 metres up, overlooking 3 beautiful valleys! Wow. The winds were a bit wild that day, so when we landed, I sort of felt like a japanese monster (perhaps Godzilla?). My instructor, who was strapped behind me tandem style, was yelling, "side, side!!" to all the people watching on the landing pad. They were running every direction, holding on to their children, and screaming as my big feet landed unopportunistically into a mud puddle. I laughed it off, but not the mud. When John got down, we were joking about going zorbing (rolling down a hill in a big plastic ball). We asked how much it was, and at 300 rupees, we were both game (about $8). What ensued was a super fun 5 minutes rolling down the hill where we didn't cease laughing like little girls. I kind of felt like a 5 year old kid at a carnival, lacking only the pink cotton candy that, wouldn't you know it, was being sold everywhere! We were also offered rides on little white ponies for about 300 rupees, but we had had enough adventure for one day.

The last day, we were both given keys to Pulsar 150's, a popular mid-sized motorbike. First, the renter drove me to the gas station to fill up, and I drove back. I have driven a motorbike only once on the dirt airstrip in Niger last summer, so I was a bit shaky starting up. He proceeded to tell me that I have to buy anything I break (his confidence in my driving skills was overwhelming). John was just starting too, so we spent the first hour just driving up and down a flat spot (quite rare!) with a wide shoulder (equally rare). Then we took off towards a little town that we had never heard of. I'd say that it was really tough to keep my concentration on the bike and winding roads, and off of the serene white-capped scenes in the distance. But driving did demand my attention. Driving in India is on the left, for starters (which by now, I have gotten used to), but in addition, 'might makes right' and the words painted on the back of every big truck, 'honk horn' are the only rules on Indian roads that I am aware of. It is an intense mix of offensive and defensive driving. Anyways, it was an exhilarating experience that I was happy to still be alive afterwards (thank You Lord!).

We took a deluxe sleeper bus to Dharmsala, which arrived just outside of it at 3 in the morning, where we boarded a little minivan that took us up the elevated switchbacks to town. There was an identical van in front of us that had to be pushed at regular intervals, which made a german man very audibly angry! But that made John, me, and the French people in our van laugh. John took off on the first bus out of Dharmsala to meet his mom in Amritsar, so I was on my own for the last few days. I got a room and went to bed till 11.

When I woke up, I had only that day to spend in Dharmsala, which is the residence of the 14th Dalai Lama, and is thus the epicentre of Buddhist teachings and Tibetan movements. I visited some temples and museums that displayed Buddhist culture, and also some human rights institutions that speak against the atrocities committed by the Chinese lately. There was a museum that talks about the Chinese occupation of Tibet back in the 40's which was regrettably closed that day. I learned a lot about the rising movements of the Tibetan people also. For example, in the last few years, Tibetans have become increasingly disapproving of the Dalai Lama's peaceful yet ineffective methods of dealing with China. The influential Tibetan Youth Movement has merged with the 4 other largest Tibetan NGOs on the issue of independence of Tibet to form the Tibetan National Uprising Movement. Their first major move was to have a massive march to Tibet, an act that would bring international attention, and bring light to China's terror, because they are anticipating and expecting open fire at the border. The leaders of this movement are much more Gandhian than Dalai-Laman, in that they are commited to non-violence, but also to non-cooperation. They want to break some rules. So we'll see what happens in these next few years. I am of the opinion that this Tibetan issue can only increase in importance because it involves directly the two nations that will be the most powerful in the coming years- China, who won't take them, and India, who has been housing them for about 60 years and may have to take a side soon. Lately, India is continually being supportive of Tibetans as refugees in India, but will not aid them in their fight against China.

Aside from the Tibetan issues, Dharmsala and Mcleod Gang are half filled with tourists (this being peak season). I went with two French friends to a restaurant that Pierce Brosnan favored during his time in Dharmsala. I had an excellent tuna pizza, and thought about what he would have ordered. I took a local bus out of there to Amritsar, and after 3 stops and 6 hours, I was there. I arrived at the Golden temple just in time to leave my things and catch a shared jeep to the waga border. Yes, the Pakistan border! There is an ecclectic ceremony that happens every night before sundown supposedly to portray a positive Pakistan-Indian relationship. A mirror-image stadium has been constructed, with a gate and two large flag poles at the centre. Before the action started, the Indian side was WAY more packed, and they were blasting popular dance music, so there were some Indians who were moving their hips on the pavement. At 6:00pm, both Indian and Pakistani men assumed crowd cheer-leadering positions by yelling loudly in the microphone (in words I didn't understand) and the respective crowds responded with uproars of national pride. Then soldiers in tall hats resembling a small peacock-feather spread marched towards each other, and stopped short of the gate, raising their legs high as they walked. After much of this, they eventually opened the gate and lowered both flags simultaneously. I noticed the Pakistan flag was lowered slightly slower than the Indian flag, and wondered if anyone was offended, but everyone clapped when they were both down, so I suppose not.

After the jeep ride back, I entered the path around the golden temple for the first time. It is truly magnificent- I believe it's half gold and half bronze (or is it copper?), and is surrounded by a large pool of water (almost a small man-made lake), which provides for great photos at nighttime. The temple itself was glimmering, not to mention the reflection off the lake. They have live music from 3:30am till 11:00pm everyday! There was an excellent tabla player and two vocalists resounding out of bose speakers (not too shabby!) which circumvented the lake. I tried to catch the sunrise, but was late. When I finally walked into the temple, I found a quite surreal environment. There were worshipers prostrating themselves in front of a few holy men taking donations and putting them in a box, while others were performing rituals over some fabric-covered coffins, alongside many people reading/chanting parts from the holy book, with two microphoned tablas and vocalists singing and playing, and a big beautiful video camera catching it all on film!

I asked a man on a bus about the difference in the upside down cone-shaped turbans that the men wear and those with a ball in the front that the teenagers and boys wear. He said that at a time chosen by the father, a son is permitted to start tying it the manly way. It has religious significance 'tied' to it. Perhaps it is to the Sikhs what a bar mitzvah of the Jewish people or baptism of the Christians is, in regards to their faith.

I also visited a place called Jalianwala Bagh. Here is a little park surrounded entirely by buildings except for its only entrance which leads to a street. In 1919, some Indians were assembling peacefully when British General Dyer marched in, blocked the only entrance/exit, and ordered open fire on the masses, including women, children, and men. After 10 minutes and 1600 rounds fired, there were around 1500 casualties and about 2000 wounded. If this doesn't make sense, realize that there is a well in the park (I thought it was about 60 feet deep) that people jumped to 'save' their lives (most died). It reminds me of when people were jumping out of the windows of the world trade centre. To any rational person, it would mean suicide, but in such desperate moments, perhaps it is the safest bet. There are still bullet holes in some bricks in the walls. Nigel Collett, the author of Reginal Dyer's biography said, "As an Englishman, I cannot help but feel sorrow and shame at what he did... The massacre was the worst atrocity by a British officer ever recorded." A prominent Indian named Rabindranath Tagore, who was also a Nobel laureate, denounced his title of knighthood (given to him by the British) in protest. This incident consequently became a stepping stone to Indian independence.

Looking back, my favorite parts of Amritsar were the music, the free food and lodging, and the 5 rupee cokes sold outside! That's only 10 cents! I boarded my last train (classy- 3 tier AC) to Delhi, where I have been packing and buying last minute trinkets. I can't believe I am finally on the eve of my departure from this fascinating country. I actually have SO many memories of my time here, mostly good if not simply bizarre, that I wouldn't put it past myself to return one day. Some Indians I have met claim "The world is in India". They usually mean that India houses every religion of the world- Hinduism, Buddhism, Muslims, Jews, Christians, Jainism, and everything in between. I like to add that there is truly every type of landscape here also. There are snow-capped mountains in the Himalayas, the great Thar desert in Rajasthan, sandy beaches in Goa, rainforest wonder in Karnataka, busling cities in Mumbai, Kolkata, Delhi... vast endlessness in Ladakh, and long reaching rivers like the Indus and the Ganges. In addition, there are so many people groups here; people of Nepali, East Asian, Arab, Mughal, and even British descent (I won't try to name more). I love this land. But I do miss Canada.

I arrive in Nairobi at noon tomorrow, and will begin a whole new experience: a few days volunteering at a children's orphanage, and then researching with a prof from Guelph University for about a month. More to come on that, I suppose!

Service and Extremes

It is said that in order for India to develop like many other nations of the world, they need to increase their Tertiary (Service) sector to a level that surpasses the Primary (Agricultural) and Secondary (Industrial) sectors. On paper, I'd agree. However, the ironic opposition to this is that after visiting almost anywhere in India, you experience service constantly. I know the service industries they are talking about refer to entertainment, food, hotels and the like, but I haven't entered a village without being offered to see a reptile ascend out of a reed basket by a snake charmer (what could be more entertaining?), or restaurant owners and hotel operators running up to me and advertising their business. It is a non-conventional type of service, but it is a service. On the train to Delhi last night, five minutes wouldn't go by before another chai wala (person who offers tea), chip, or drink seller walked by preceeded by their nasaly announcements. And after getting off a train, there are 3 taxi and 4 auto-rickshaw drivers without fail, all surrounding me and bargaining for our mutual "good price" (the highest one I'll give and the lowest one they will). I think the key point is that they don't make the government much money. It's the five star hotels and restaurants that the country wants to see on the incline, with a matching entertainment industry equipped with operas, theatres, sporting events, and horse racing stadiums (however, the IPL- Indian Premier League- of cricket which is in its first season must be making a killing). However, the fact that the multiple service industries existing in India don't make the government any money does not negate the fact that they exist, and there is some of the most humble and best service here than I have ever experienced.

I decided yesterday to spend my last meal in Amritsar in a posh place, so I took a cycle rickshaw to Crystal Restaurant. I paid just over 200 rupees (about $5) for world famous Darjeeling Tea, a delicious tomato butter chicken curry, and two orders of butter naan (some of the best bread ever). The youth next to me were busy talking about the Simpsons, and there was a lunch business meeting happening on my other side; I felt right at home. This brings me to my next point in that India is a culture of extremes. These youth were acting as if there wasn't a care in the world, obviously children of successful parents who pay for all their needs (not unlike my upbringing). In contrast, the youth of Sudder Street back in Kolkata were either working extremely hard labour for little pay, or desperately looking for work as a cycle rickshaw driver (which, by the way, makes one sterile after 3 years of hard work). Another example is food. I can eat at a posh place like Crystal's, and as I leave the restaurant be confronted by street vendors selling greasy samosas or puri bread for a few rupees. On any road at any time, there are the poorest people driving cyle rickshaw who are dirty and perhaps sleep on the streets, who are passed every moment by business women and men driving BMWs and the like (there are much more Tata and Honda cars, which are more mid-range vehicles). Anyways, just an observation.

Foreign folk songs at an ashram

On one of the trains from Kolkata to Jaipur (the one leaving from Delhi), the most peculiar, awkward, and violating thing happened to me. John and I were having a delightful conversation with a couple of British and Indian origin who had decided to settle in a little town on a hill in Mexico when some eunuchs came by. I have tried to ask locals who speak english what the deal is with these people, but nobody seems to have a clue. Some locals give money out of embarrassment, or fear that they will kiss or harass them. Some say that little boys are taken from their parents, castrated, and then forced to dress like women and beg when they reach a certain age. Basically, they are men (with no physical manhood) who dress up in saris (women's garb) and act in a feminine manner (even overly so, I would wager) and ask for money. I have only seen them on trains. They have never bothered me before, or any other foreigner for that matter, but this particular time, there were three eunuchs who approached me. One sat beside me and started to stroke my arm. I made the fatal mistake by asking him to stop and leave in Hindi, which made me seem more local (or at least accustomed) to the eunuch. He persisted in his efforts until the Indian expat lady sitting across from me asked him to leave, and with that, he got up. However, as he left, he jabbed his hand directly on my crotch, contacting the very manhood attached to me which he lacks. I was shocked! He and his two friends were gone in a flash as I, stunned as a deer on the road, was both speechless and actless. The feeling of awkwardness passed soon, but my frustration took about an hour to subside. I guess I was overwhelmed by the lack of rules (or perhaps simply enforcement?) of sexual harassment here, and also felt a deep sadness for the women who undoubtedly get it worse.

Anyway, when we got to Jaipur (after 40 hours on a train) we had a wonderful two night stay at my old host family, the Mathur's, where we read a lot and watched a Bollywood movie in theatres. My host dad arranged a jeep to take us about 30 minutes north of the city to a small Leprosy Ashram called the Ramgarh Reintegration Centre, where we were to volunteer for the next 4 days. We thought that the job description would be similar to working with the sick in
Kolkata (bathing, feeding, massaging) but we were mistaken. This place is a simple place, filled with students living simple lives. This ashram is a vocational training institute where anyone can come (though mostly cured leprosy patients do) to take a six month course on a trade. These include tailoring, perfume-making, dairy operating, electric repairs, two- and three-wheeler repairs, and computer training. What could we do, as they were properly settled and content? Well, by nature of our upbringing, we taught English and computer training! It was great fun- we completed 5 one hour English lessons which covered the basics, and ended with our part of the cultural exchange where we talked about Canada, mentioning hockey, wildlife, and maple trees among other things. In computer training, they were making documents on word and powerpoint. They were ecstatic to watch how fast my fingers type! I helped one man take an article from a newspaper and reproduce it on word.

Like I said, this place is astonishingly simple. Every night before the sun went down we would all play cricket on a patch of ground next to the cows. It was amazing to see so many people enthusiastically playing the nationally-loved game despite their handicaps (many had crutches or canes due to the effects of their past bouts with leprosy). Then they would go to prayer, which consisted of all 38 of them forming lines in front of a little temple, folding their hands, and sounding off a 10 minute song (completely by memorization!) to many of their gods- I caught the words Krishna, Parvati, Shiva, Brahmhan, Ganesh, and others. I kindly folded my hands and silently prayed to Christ, and I felt right at home. After that, we would sit in the grass in a circle until supper. One night, they had a game where they would sing a line from a popular Indian song, and the first word of the next song must begin with the same letter that the last song ended with. They went on for hours as the sun set, and I even joined in with some english songs. The food was plain, the lifestyle relaxed, and their belongings far from extravagant, yet I have never experienced such close companionship and unity among a group of people in those 4 days. Never. Not in any church or friendship circle, and I am apt to guess that I do not yet belong to such an organisation of friends. There is so much to learn from the simple, and my only regret was that we left too soon, so my outlook on friendship and mutual living could not be further nurtured. To be honest, I found it quite exhausting because every second of the day they wanted to spend time with John and I- we had to peel ourselves away to read and even sleep! I suppose my individualistic upbringing is far removed from the collectivism of this ashram.

There was a boy named Saddam Hussain there who was a tailor. They always joked about his name, and he was absolutely hilarious. He also had the best voice of the group, and graced us often with foreign folk songs of India at any time of day.

Before we knew it, we were on our way back to Jaipur, where we took a train to Delhi. We made a last minute change of plans by cancelling our train to Amritsar (Punjab) and instead taking a night bus to Manali (Himachal Pradesh- the Himalayas again!). We have been here for about 4 days, and the adventures have been unbelievable, so stay tuned! All I can say now is that I thank the Lord that we are in one piece, and tonight, I'm off to Dharmsala (the residence of his holiness the 14th Dalai Lama). Phir Milenge (see you later).

Kolkata, the city that works

India has a sweeping culture. By that, I don't mean that there is a specific domineering set of practices that is being proselytized across the nation. I simply mean Indians sweep. Everyday, every owner of their home, restauraunt, and shop spends a few minutes sweeping the inside and outside of their tidy places. Street sweeping is essential because India has two issues that we do not in Canada: most of India resides in the tropics, and the word "litter" must not exist in Hindi. Regarding the tropics, it is understandable enough because the wind brings the dust to every nook and cranny, leaving a thin (thicker depending on time past!) film of dust over everything. It is the same in Western Africa if I remember correctly. Regarding the latter, I'm sure I have spoken of the garbage issue before, but in Kolkata, it became all the more alive due to the sheer amount of people. The garbage bins I have seen are seldom used despite their written plead, "use me", and when they are used, I believe it is simply dumped in a discrete location. The only dump I have ever seen is one on a side street in Kolkata, but it contains so much food waste (compost) that it is perpetually full of cows, dogs, and birds. The fact is, India's society as a whole simply throws garbage on the ground no matter where they are, expecting that it will get swept! Sweeping is also a must because garbage in the open street drains leads to stagnant water, which can harbour disease. Thus, it is a system that works, (sort of) even though it may seem odd. Perhaps our massive dumps in North America give us more problems than small amounts of garbage evenly distributed (everywhere, as in India). I can think of soil degredation due to leaching of liquid chemicals for one. Anyways, I'll leave that discussion to those with more knowledge on the subject.

Another way Kolkata is a city that works is the contined survival of the poor. There have been so many reasons for the massive amounts of extreme poverty in the city: there was a severe famine in 1943, and the Indian-Pakistani war of 1971 ended in a massive human migration - about 4 million Muslims to East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) and 1 million Hindus to trade places and come to Kolkata. There has also been a communist government that, in the past, led to economic stagnation, which brought many poor farmers to the city to look for work. This is part of the reason that in Mother Teresa's time, there were so many people simply dying on the street from hunger and sickness that she felt moved to start her Missionaries of Charity work (more on this later). All this to say that my impression today of the city's inner-workings must differ greatly from her time and that of the writer of "City of Joy". Yes, there are so many poor in the city, and yes, there is a stark difference compared to some of the wealth that can be seen (grand British buildings that were built when Calcutta was still the capital of India, until 1911), but they are a surviving and hard-working poor. I don't know how it happens, but from my impression-and I walked right through many slums- most people are not in serious want of food. They are provided for, some say by a miracle of God. Countless people run tiny fruit shops, cobblers offer to shine your shoes, and human rickshaws (two big wheels, a seat, and a person in front pulling) haul people all over the city. They work extremely hard, and though their life is unbelievably strenuous, the city's people continue to exist. It works.

John and I volunteered with Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity for 5 days, and it was a truly enriching experience. In the morning I was at Prem Dan, and in the afternoon I was at Kalighat. Prem Dan is a home that provides long term care for men and women suffering from mental illness, leprosy, tuberculosis, HIV/AIDS, and neglect. The men and women are separated, so I worked with the men- there were about 150 in total. Most are elderly, and jobs were very basic, including showering, toiletting, feeding, massaging, and shaving. Everyone sort of found their niche, so to speak, and I found mine in massaging people with chronic pain in their back, legs, arms, or head. Some of these men were suffering so much, yet, they never complained, and were grateful for their current life, which is a lot more than can be said of their life outside the walls of Prem Dan.

The afternoon was spent in Kalighat, which was Mother Teresa's second love (next to Jesus, I presume). It is the home for the dying and destitute that most people associate Mother Teresa's work with. It was the first one she started, and was the place she most felt at home. It serves about 100 men and women who either are sent by hospitals because they are near death, or are physically picked up off the street in one of the Missionary of Charity's emergency vans. Again, the service here was basic, taking them to the bathroom, feeding them, or just talking with them, but it was unbelievable. I helped a nurse everytime she dressed a massive open wound that covered both legs of an old man, who only silently flinched at our touch (I'm sure I would have screamed). Some men were well under 70 lbs, and suffered from TB, HIV/AIDS, and others. Though Kolkata was 40 degrees Celsius in the shade most days, I thoroughly enjoyed my time there simply because of the effect that the work had on me. I began to believe Mother Teresa's view that "In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love". I was doing what anyone could do if they had the time and desire (no great thing), yet the simple aid I could give was a form of love that was reciprocated with priceless smiles coming from a grief I could not know.

John and I ended the Kolkata experience by attending a cricket game! The Kolkata Knight Riders vs The Mumbai Indians match happened on April 29th, and we dressed up in rip-off jerseys and flags to cheer on our team (Kolkata of course!). Shah Rukh Khan owns the team, and he made appearances before and after the game on the field. He is to Bollywood even more than what Brad Pitt is to Hollywood. It was great fun, the stadium held about 100 000 people (massive!!). They did the wave, and people were dancing all the time. In the end, Mumbai won by 7 wickets. I wouldn't have known what that means before the match, but now I feel I know the ins ad outs of the sport, which makes me feel that much more Indian!

The glorious Himalayan Range

Despite the elevation (over 12000 feet), the fresh mountain air compared to polluted Delhi was as refreshing as the dip I took in a freezing fresh mountain river.

The trip started at midnight in Jaipur, Rajasthan, when John and I boarded a night train headed for Delhi. When we arrived, we took an auto rickshaw to Luke's place and began our plans for the day. We had until midnight to pack and buy supplies, including a propane stove, packed food, gear (including my new "forester" swiss army knife!), and a rental tent. We embarked the 32 hour train with 6 loaves of chocolate banana bread from a bakery owned by Luke's friend. The train was filled to the max, but emptied around noon the next day at a popular station in Bihar- it's capital, Patna. Left on the train were mostly those headed to the north-eastern state of Assam. These people were incredibly nice, and we shared a compartment with a family of 5. When we got to New Jalpaiguri, we ate a quick meal, and took a shared rickshaw to Siliguri and a shared Jeep to Darjeeling, a hill station that used to be the summer home of the British when Koklata got too hot (ironically, I am presently in Kolkata in the hottest time of year- it reached 47 degrees Celsius the other day). We ate momos for lunch (a tibetan pirogi) and got another shared jeep to Manebanjan. We booked a shirpa (guide) at the tourist station who was to meet us the next morning, so we set up tent on a plateau and gave our virgin propane stove it's first job- soup!

We trekked for 6 days, covering 87 kilometres, and raising to around 3800 metres at the highest point. The views in the third and fourth day were the most spectacular, we could clearly see Everest, Makulu, Lahotse, Kachenjunga (India's highest, 3rd in the world), and many others. It's called the 'sleeping Buddha' because when viewed from Sankadphu and Phalut (where we saw it), it looks like a big belly, where the one to the left looks like a face (with a nose and chin protruding) and to the right are feet (I guess you have to see it). The views were spectacular, and it felt pretty hardcore to carry 60 pounds on our backs and sleep in a tent. One morning, we awoke to frost on the fly- proof of the cold nights!

Our guide, 'Tsering Shirpa', was a hero. At 38, he is an extremely experienced guide who knows the passes inside and out. Everytime there was a leaking hose on the side of the road, he would do a quick repair- probably saving a lower town from water availability issues. Since we were sleeping in a tent, we had freedom to stay wherever we wanted, so Tsering would bring us to his relatives, who treated us to chapati and Yak meat! Sooo good! Honestly, we spent more time in Nepal than India on this trek (named the Singalila trek) because the main road acts as the border, and we spent most nights the Nepal side. If you get queasy, please skip the next section.

We wanted to eat a chicken for dinner, so every day we would ask Tsering "can we buy a chicken in this town?", which he would answer 'no' until we reached Gorkey on the second last day. A local woman caught a chicken from a small coop, and brought it to us. Because I bought a new swiss army knife (the "forester") and I was dying to use it (no pun intended), they offered the chicken to me to cut its throat. After cutting it (and it did take some sawing force action) it bled a fair bit, and it kicked for a few minutes. An old man was holding on to it, but I can see without a doubt where the phrase came from ("running like a chicken with its head cut off"). We proceeded to make the best chicken noodle soup I have ever had, and a stirfry to top it off. The village cat was happy with the leftovers.

We had a few days in Darjeeling where we saw the zoo (red pandas, himalayan black bears, tigers, snow leapoards, and deer) and the himalayan mountaineering institute. The cuisine in Darjeeling was tibetan and delicious- momos and tibentan bread! We listened to a live band playing covers of random western hits, and then said goodbye to Luke the next morning. John and I saw our first bollywood film in theatres (race) and did a lot of running around. World famous Darjeeling tea, great local novels, and a traditional Gorkey military knife were some of the purchases made.

Life changed as quickly as the weather when we dropped from Darjeeling to Kolkata, but I'll elaborate on that next.

Exams, a tiger, and Delhi

I know it has been forever, and I apologize! I left off in Jaisalmer Fort, which was guided by an audio tour that was really well done. Apparently, there has been more rain in Rajasthan in recent years, and Jaisalmer has been thought to be in danger of structural damage due to too much water! We took a train to Jodpur after that, which consisted of a neat section lined with blue colored houses that could be seen grandly from the Jodpur Fort. This fort was similar to Jaisalmer's fort except that it seemed to have higher and stronger walls, though it is no longer a "living fort"- the townspeople live around the fort. To be honest, after the fort tour, a few of us took pleasure in staying in the hotel and ordering room service while watching movies on cable. It was a much needed dose of home, and we ended the night by dancing in a really cool bar that felt like a cottage. There was even a DJ just for us, and some serious lighting including strobe lights and black lights!

That weekend, I headed for India's capital- Delhi! Tom and John came too to visit my friends Luke and Brent who have a flat in the south end. We visited some crazy markets, one underground that sold some random things including liquor flasks and binoculars. There was also the Government Cottage Industries Emporium, where traditional goods of the country are sold at fixed, fair prices where the proceeds go to the small manufacturers themselves. Literally, almost every ware in India was within those 5 floors! We also enjoyed the dirty bird (KFC) and Mickedees a few times. There was a Tibetan rally one day where about 150 tibetans roared in the streets against China's inexcusable actions and merciless killings. My friend Luke hangs out with street kids sometimes, so we spent one afternoon playing games with them in a park and utilizing coloring books. Tom and John and i bought some stogies and took some pics near India Gate, which was WAY bigger than I thought it was. Along the way, a man with two monkeys on leashes let us take our picture with them for a fee. India Gate is a unique experience because it is surrounded by a huge park of grass and trees where Indian families come in droves to spend the evening together. It definitely felt more like a place and symbol of pride for locals than a tourist destination, which I liked. By far the most impressive part of Delhi was the subway (metro) system! It is brand new, and it so pristine. Funded 60% by a Japanese bank, they will continue construction for about 3 years, and it will link all of Delhi gloriously. Honestly (probably due to it's newness) it trumps Toronto's subway by far.

Studying continued for a week, and then John and Katie and I went in search of the elusive tiger on a safari in Ranthambore! We met a German couple in our hotel, and early one morning, we stood in a line to book an open-topped jeep to enter the park. After about 1.5 hours of craziness at 4 in the morning, we were off! I picked our route from a bag, and we sped off in a park that felt like a slightly dryer version of Jurassic Park. The animals we first saw were some spotted deer and long-tailed monkeys. Then there were many birds, but I can't name them. We kept listening to warning calls from other animals that would give away the position of the tigers, and at one point, about 100 spotted deer ran out from a bush, so we thought for sure a tigress was out for an early morning kill! However, after 10 minutes and no tiger, we were getting discouraged that we wouldn't see it. The park is strict about sticking with the route you choose (there are around 10), but our guide knew that the tiger was just one track over! So he talked with some other guides, and asked us if we were willing to pay a bit extra to keep some mouths quiet, if we wanted to see the tiger. Morals aside, we REALLY wanted to see it, so we agreed, and the next 3 minutes went by ridiculously fast. Our driver sped through the adjacent track like a rally racer until we arrived at a spot where 5 other jeeps were parked and silent. I caught a glimpse from the side (and a few photos!) of a slowly meandering beast with magnificent orange and black stripes. Within moments, we were racing out of there, and out of the park. So exhilarating! Within the little town that Ranthambore was in (about 3 hours south of Jaipur by train) there was an incredible local restaurant that sold masala dosas and delicious sweets that was satisfying to the taste buds, stomach, and wallet, and we couldn't ask for anything else.

Exams were intense, and were over fast. The final party/get-together was at an outdoor restaurant with all our host families and teachers. It was an odd and abrupt way to say goodbye to our friends of 4 months. Everyone dressed up so well (except the guys... figures) and red wine filled our palates. Thus ended our India Semester. Some have gone home to Canada, but most are still traveling in India, Europe, Thailand, Nepal, and others.

I will tell of an unforgettable week in the Himalayas next...

Rajasthan, full of desert cities

On our way to Jaipur from the Taj, we stopped at a the Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary where we saw a number of beautiful kingfishers, peacocks, storks, and spoonbills among others. The land was bought by the Maharaja Bharatpur in the early 19th century, declared a national park in 1982, and a World Heritage site in 1985. Unfortunately, due to decreasing annual rains during the monsoons, the actual "wet" part of the wetlands and marshes now spans only a fraction of what it used to, so many migratory birds are either moving somewhere else, or decreasing in number due to scarcity of survival space. It was nevertheless a great opportunity to feel like a geeky camera-carrying eco-tourist, but instead of wearing a goofy hat, I sported a bandana that most bandits would be proud of.

We arrived in Jaipur soon thereafter, to first meet our host parents who we are to stay with for the duration of this month of classes in the University of Rajasthan. When I discovered that the house-father of Tom Abel and I is a retired a colonel in the Indian Army, I became slightly nervous. Was I to shave my face and hair? Will there be strict rules and curfews, including random pushup workouts for wrongdoings? I had no idea, but was pleasantly welcomed by a kind man who has been retired since '87. He lives in a mansion of a house in North Jaipur, along with his wife, daughter, two sister-in-laws, brother-in-law, two housekeepers, and tintin (the white alaskan dog, who looks much like "snowy" on the show "tintin"). I honestly get pampered with hot breakfasts in the morning (omelette, toast, and chai), packed lunches, awesome dinners, internet in-home, laundry service, and an interesting family to hang out with. Two women in the house are professors at the University of Rajasthan, and there is a really intelligent 17-year old who is currently writing her 10th standard plus two (grade 12) exams.

The courses I'm enrolled in are extentions of the last module (in Mysore), but are each independent in nature. My courses include Indian Philosophy, Politics, Economy, Public Administration, Environment, and I'm auditing Hindi. They have been going well, but the days are long, with 6 hours of class per day. I feel like I'm back in grade school with my packed lunch, backpack, and cheap notebook.

Last weekend, my friend Luke visited me from Delhi. He came with his friend Brent, and along with Tom and John, we rented a taxi to explore Jaipur. We first went to Amber Fort and Jaighar Fort, situated north of the city. We had so much fun in these forts because they were so big. Unlike many other such structures, the construction was so asymmetrical that there was a seemingly unending amount or doors and passageways like portals to unpredictable destinations. We saw the tallest tower with a bold flag blowing in the wind, and were determined to make it there eventually, so that was our unofficial goal to our wanderings. When we reached it, there was a massive lock on the door. However, on the southern edge of Jaighar Fort, there lies the largest cannon on wheels in the world, with a range of 22 kilometres and weighing thousands of metric tonnes. They call it Jaivan and it has only been tested once. We went to the "pink city" later, which is a walled portion of Jaipur where every building is painted pink (after fading, it is really all red), which is supposed to be a color of welcome. They re-painted it pink to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876, and again at the event of the visit of President Bill Clinton. We checked out an ancient astrological observatory called Jantar Mantar, and I saw Hawa Mahal later with Tom, which is a large wall made for the "ladies of the court" to observe the city's events without being observed themselves. Also pink.

The next day, Luke and Brent and I hiked up to the Nahaghar Fort, which offers a breathtaking panoramic of Jaipur city, as well as a switch-back road up and a sketchy hike down. Tom and I might visit them in Delhi soon.

On Thursday, our big group took a night train to Jaisalmer, which is where we are right now. It is on the outskirts of the Thar Desert, that is, the Great Indian Desert. The Fort of Jaisalmer is situated on the highest point of the city, and is one of the only living forts still existant- about 25% of the city still lives in the Fort itself. This place is alive with turbans and brightly colored garments worn by the locals, as well as beautiful instruments like a violin-like instrument played with a bow that resounds like a tunnel. We checked out a nearby lake, which is filled with ghats and a few personal collections of heritage that have been turned into museums. There are also Havelis in the city itself, which were basically beautifully built multi-level houses owned by rich business men. Each has a welcoming room which was used to serve opium to newly arrived guests (apparently the first thing to offer guests!). The bed frames in the living quarters were made of pure silver, and the women's powder room was stocked with expensive jewellery. The most exciting part was the incredible view of the Fort at sunset from the top of the Havelis.

One of the most anticipated items of our itinerary happened yesterday, which was a camel ride amid the Thar Desert. We piled in jeeps and drove west towards Pakistan for about an hour (we were apparently around 40 kilometres from the border. yikes!), largely offroading until we got to where about 30 colorfully dressed camels were patiently waiting in the sand. It wasn't my first time riding these gentle beasts, but it was my first time riding them in massive, smooth, gleaming sand dunes! It was like all the postcards and movies but brought to life in real time. The heat wasn't too bad because we rode from about 4 until 6:30 at night or so. One of the camels kept sending off mating calls (they were all male by the way, so I assume this was the dominant male) where he would bellow a deep rumble from deep inside his diaphragm, and then his massive tongue would protrude out the left side of his mouth, and blow up like a balloon, adding a unique auditory element to the call. It was grotesque to watch, but fascinating to listen to, and we joked about what would happen with all these males in the event of a wild female camel approaching from the distance (the consensus was that we would all die from falling off our running camels as they chased her through the desert). We watched the sunset over the dunes as we drank chai and ate snacks. Dinner was rice and dahl, and was followed by a performance of local dancers and singers, playing the harmonia, drum, and hand-held wooden slabs that reminded me of when musicians play the spoons. That, coupled with firelight and thousands of stars made the night romantic, but I'm sure the romance was taken once we started singing english tunes like "in the jungle" and "summer of '69" at the top of our badly tuned lungs.

Well, I'm off to see the Maharaja's palace here in Jaisalmer Fort, more to come...

From the Ganga to the Taj!!

Since Pondicherry, it's been non-stop travel and excitement. We got on a 40 hour train from Chennai to Benares (Varanasi), which is Shiva's city. It is situated on the bank of the holy river of Ganga (the Ganges), and ghats (steps leading into the river) line the entirety of the west bank of the river. What an incredible yet bizarre place to be. There are two "burning ghats" in the city which is the location of public cremation ceremonies that occur 24-7, and have been for around 5000 years continuously! Apparantly the flame beneath one of the temples from which they light a torch to then light the bodies has been ever-burning for hundreds of years. I observed how a dead body wrapped in white cloth would be brought to the river in a procession held by 4 men, dipped in the Ganga, and then laid on a pre-stacked wood pile. Spices, sandalwood powder, flowers, and scents would be sprinkled on the body before lighting the fire. The oldest family member of the deceased would wield the fire stick (would tend to the fire and especially the body in case any body parts would detach and roll away - it is common with heads - so that everything is properly burned). However, though I observed slight natural mourning, grief was not present in any of the family members present. In fact, there is a 10 - 14 day celebration of the life of the individual after the cremation. A Catholic monk from San Fransisco named Robert explained to me that Hindus really understand that the opposite of death is not life, but birth. Thus, as birth is a part of life, so it death, and it is silly to an Indian to grieve for too long. Other than the ghats, there were plenty of neat tiny roads around old Varanasi which I grew to love, some great bakeries, and music shops where I took a 2 hour tabla lesson and 1 hour sitar lesson. I also got to watch Pujas (holy men) do a little dance near the ghats in the evening as they ceremonially played with fire and smoke, as well as watch a community cricket match on a platform near the river. Also, taking boats on the Ganges early in the morning to watch the sunrise and the pilgrims bathing (with clothes on) from the ghats was a memorable experience.

We visited Saranath, which in an area outside of Varanasi where Buddha was said to have given his first sermon under a certain tree. We visited this exact site, and were surprised to discover that though the same tree had died thousands of years ago, seedlings from the original tree have been continually planted in the same site. In other words, the tree that we visited is a great great great grandfather of the original tree (give or take a few greats)! Aside from that, there were tibetan, chinese, indian buddhist temples within a short walk away, each differing in style of building and the specific figurines that were chosen to share the worship stage along with Buddha. There was also an 80-foot high ancient stupa. A stupa is a solid semi-sherical clump of brick that is otherwise astonishingly void of form. It was the first site of worship for Buddhists who didn't consider Buddha one to be worshipped (Buddha never asked for such treatment). Rather it was anti-figurative to symbolize an earnest search for truth instead of worshipping a deity, which was the custom of Hinduism at the time. I left my bag in the tibetan temple and went back to get it an hour later, and they were very kind to give it back.

A train took us from Varanasi to Jhansi, where we visited a palace nearby, in which I dressed in my best green and gold silk tunic. There was a great tour of it, along with a nice little touristy village and a river where the monkeys almost attacked us. Basically I was taking photos when one glared his teeth (which, if it has ever happened to you, you know that it scares the bageebees out of you) and followed us a little. Later, we had dinner at the palace (I know, it sounds hot) where a little ensemble of a harmonia (like an accordian) and tablas were accompanying a transvesdite dancer. What!?, you may ask. Well, this person was dressed like a lady, and was bellydancing, but had a veil over his face the whole time. Except, his belly was straight, not curved like a woman's, and one time he lifted his veil and smiled at one of the girls. She gives testimony to the fact that the dancer was male, and I must say it was more than slightly uncomfortable to watch the awesome moves he was making on that dance floor.

We took a bus to a series of temples called Kujaraho. These are unique in India because they are the only temples that display explicit sexual stances and activity alongside all the religious deities and depictions of the ancient texts that are commonplace (Ramanyana and Mahabharatra). Most of the temples were Shiva temples, though there were carvings of Parvati, Vishnu, Brahman, and Ganesh. When I say Shiva temple, I mean it had a shiva lingam inside the central chamber, which is incidently also supposed to be a phallic symbol (perhaps the association with sexual carvings lies therein). My overall thought of the temples was that only about 5% of the carvings were sexual in nature, yet because it is the only one, all the postcards hone in on these like the other 95% don't exist. One interpretation I offer is that this is an example of amplification of an obscure topic in the name of tourism and capital gain. Or simply an obsession of sex in a sexually repressive and perhaps deprived culture. Or both.

On the way to Agra, we came across a traffic jam that lasted 2 hours, and that had started 5 hours before we got there. We were in Rajasthan, and apparantly an accident had occured where the family members of the victims barricaded the street demanding immediate action against the perpetrator (perhaps the driver was drunk?). This tells me that Rajasthan's people have a strong social will to them, and also that their provincial judicial system may not be up to par. Anyways, there were litterally 200 locals surrounding our bus for hours, beggining with kind and excited conversations (in which I left the bus and talked with them outside) but ended in opening our windows and asking for things, as well as actually harrassing some of the girls on our trip. I switched seats with a friend of mine so that I was on window side, and the next time they opened the curtain, they saw my face, and the look on their face of astonishment/surprise was pretty hilarious. Unfortunately I was too upset to enjoy the situation, as I was yelling things in Hindi and English that expressed my frustration. Eventually, flowers, garbage, and even little pebbles were being thrown in through the windows (they were really hard to keep closed with no locking device). I was quite happy to start driving away.

But we made it to Agra!!! Thank goodness because it was unbelievable. Almost everything I've seen up to date has not fully reached my expectations (if I were to be honest with myself) compared to the hype that is involved. However, the hype attached with the Taj Mahal is world-wide and the great expectations I entered with were met with a magnificent marble structure at the height of the potential of things made by man. Maybe it is too high an appraisal, but I was taken aback by its beauty. In other perspectives, it is also a symbol of a misuse of wealth because it was made by the sweat of hard working poor people, in a land where the poverty was rampid. This could be viewed as a good provider of jobs, or as an exploitation of human capital. To add insult to injury, in many cases it was this grandeous manner in which the rich lived that kept the poor in their poverty. Of course, there can be an infinite perspective on all things, so I give only a few. Alas, instead of the overused expression, "You have to see it to believe it", I say, "You have to see it to perceive it".

Hampi, Madurai, Pondicherry, and NGOs

Namaste! I am currently in the city of Puducherry (formerly Pondicherry), which is in the union territory of Pondicherry, which is ruled directly by national governance instead of the states of india, which are substantially autonomous. It was a French colony until 1954 I believe, even though India had been independent from the British since 1947. There are many sections of the city that are clearly remnants of colonial France, exemplified in residential buildings, churches, and city infrastructure like sanitation and road planning. Other than that, it still feels a lot like India with the markets everywhere, and a side street with a Hindu temple that has an elephant who blesses people just outside.

There is a terrific beach called Auroville beach, that has white sand and warm water! It is 8 km away from the international commune called Auroville, which claims it is an experiment for the unity of humanity. There are many nations represented there who basically are non-political peace lovers who seek to achieve unity within diversity. Many work on projects of sustainable living, and most (if not all) practise yoga as a means of peace and unity. The Matrimandir is a large golden dome within the commune which people can meditate and perform yoga in when they choose. "The Mother" is a woman who started the whole thing, and today is actually the celebration of her ideals, one of which was the non-existance of constitutionalized marriage.

Last night, there was live music in the middle of Nehru Street in Puducherry, consisting of a stage full of electric drums, tablas, male and female singers, and a keyboard. Then, down the road, there was a brightly lit statue of a deity on a float rolling through the same road, powered by a generator behind it. There were many shopkeepers and townspeople coming to offer gifts, and 3 brahmins dressed in white lungis (man skirts, of which I own and happily wear 3) accepted the offerings. The gifts consisted of strings of flowers, shawls from clothing venders, and fruits. Most of which would be put in a metal pan and burned, giving off an aromatic smoke.

Madurai was a pretty awesome town, with the normal hustle and bustle of a normal Indian town, but with an incredible temple called the Minakshi Temple. Minakshi (or Parvati) is the consort to Sundeswerar (or Shiva), so the temple also had dedications to Shiva. There were a number of gopurams (towers) and many halls, each including ancient decorative pillars. It is the custom to have markets, or bazaars infront of temples for people to sell their wares, so there is a large one in Madurai. One night, my friend John and I met a guy about our age who took us on a city bus to the other end of town to another temple out on the water. He wanted to take us on a boat, but it was dark, there were no other boats around, and he had an engraving on his arm from a knife carving. The scar constisted of four letters which he was unable to truthfully explain (he told us a few different answers). So we figured he was part of a gang or at least super sketchy due to the situation, so we took a rickshaw back to town. Altogether a good time. We also visited the Gandhi Museum in Madurai, which told an extended account of the liberation of India (from the Brits) and Gandhi's life and works aside from that. The facility was created by Nehru, suitingly, as they were good friends and colleagues throughout the birth of the nation. The day after visiting the temple and the museum, we visited 3 NGOs around Madurai. The first was a Mercy Home, which took abandoned girl babies and abandoned elderly and gave them a place to live (for the babies, they also helped arrange foster parents). The second was a movement to empower women by education (of both women and men) and rights awareness. The third was called DHAN (development of human action) which basically facilitated micro-credit loans all over the country for small self-governing groups of people. All have had tremendous success and serve a vital part of Indian social society.

The weekend before Madurai, we went to Hampi, which is an area in nothern Karnataka which has many really old archealogical sites. There were so many temples that I couldn't really count them. Many were Hindu, some were Moslem, and some of the ruins simply consisted of religious baths, and simple city infrastructure like roads, waterways, and tunnels. One morning we climbed a small mountain (more of a large hill- it took about an hour) to watch the sunrise- absolutely breathtaking from up there! It was neat because we had just seen all the sights the day before, but now we got a bird's eye view.

In between all these places, we have been taking night trains, which has become quite an enjoyable experience. I have gotten good sleeps and met some really cool people. And of course, the most memorable phrases are repeated mercilessly by sellers (namely, "Chai" and "Coffee"). A little Indian girl named Sita kept coming to speak English to us (numbers 1 to 10 and nursery rhymes like "twinkle twinkle little star"), which was priceless. I think she had a crush on me. Well, off to supper. Something French.... maybe baguettes and pasta?

Hospitals

Asha Kirana is an HIV/AIDS hospital that is next door to our hostel, and they arranged an education presentation to a nearby police training facility in which I tagged along. The police sent a bus with bars over the windows (clearly for transporting criminals!) which picked us up and drove us across the city. When we got there, we were brought to a room with about 200 constables wearing tan colored uniforms and matching hats. They reminded me of "man in the yellow hat" in curious George... but with tan hats. I got some pretty hilarious photos of some officers posing on their motorbikes afterwards. The talk itself was in Kannada (the language of Karnataka), but the presentation was in English, so I understood most of it. I feel it is actually fairly strategic to inform the policeman who will be enforcing prostitution laws (for example) how HIV can and cannot be transmitted, as it will help their judgment and keep them from propagating social stigmas. But can you believe that men who have trained and educated for 12 years in the police force have never heard of the basics of HIV/AIDS? How much do uneducated know about it? It's scary to know that a very conservative figure of 5 million HIV positive people live in India. Who knows how high the liberal number reaches? With little education, lots of stigma, and not universally organized system of ARV distribution, this country may see the ravages of HIV/AIDS similar to the likes of South Africa or worse.

On a lighter note, we visited the "Hospital in the Forest", which is an NGO that operates about half an hour away from Mysore. It serves tribals of the area, but also provides schooling and sanitation. It is an organization that operates very well, and shines as a model for other NGOs that want to do similar work in other areas of India.

Now I gotta study, I have 3 tests and 2 papers due in a few days, so phir melege (see you later)!

Banana leaves and exhaust

Last night, six of us took two rickshaws to a restaurant in downtown Mysore. The drivers were friends, so naturally, they were playfully passing each other as they drove, allowing us to yell at our friends as we raced. These were among the more souped-up rickies (which means they could probably drive 80 km/h downhill (about 20 km/h uphill!), pretty impressive for glorified 3 wheeled motorbikes). The best part of those little motors is that you shouldn't feel safe in them, even though you do, so its an adventure every time.

The food at the restaurant was served on banana leaves as plates. It was mostly scoops of vegetable chutneys, a mountain of white rice, and bowls of soupy curries (accompanied with a 7-up). It was hilarious because our server was a 10 year old boy, and they didn't have most of what was on the menu that particular night. However, his little face lit up when we ordered something they did have, and he would bob it side to side excitedly (that's how indians nod- it means yes, or an approval, or I like to think it means "of course, you idiot"). I asked "do you have fish curry?" (a disappointed "no") , and "do you have fish fry" ("no"), and because someone had already ordered it, I said "but what I REALLY want is the chicken masala," and he was ecstatic!

However, after thinking about it, it settles well with me that they didn't have a lot of what was on the menu. It simply means that they didn't buy any fish that afternoon. In Canada, we buy a quarter chicken from Swiss Chalet, and of course it's available! They just go get it from the freezer where it has been for that last month. In Canada, everything is available all the time. Here, fruits are available in season, and products based on demand.

Back to the automobiles idea, the Tata Nano is a car that has been put on the market, and sells for around Rs. 100 000. It is the most affordable car ever in India, and people are expected to buy it like hotcakes. For the Tata car company, and workers everywhere who have been waiting for a cheap form of transportation and westernization like this, this is a godsend! From my humble point of view, the congestion is already reaching its limits on many roads. And with global climate change being a pressing issue these days, making a car available to hundreds of millions of salivating consumers is a slippery slope. But its

Mysore Palace

I heard a subtle sound of crunching metal and I got up from my seat at the internet cafe. Peering outside, I saw a man who just had a small accident in his motorbike (he seems to be okay), but already within 1 minute, a crowd of 100 people had circled the site: a demonstration of the care, curiosity, and density of people in this country.

I've been in Mysore for a few weeks now. The classes I'm enrolled in are really interesting: Hindi, culture and civilization of India, science technology and development, Indian Economy, and Natural Chemicals of the Environment. I share a room with my friend Tom in a hostel down the street from the school. It's called VILD (vivekananda institute for leadership development), but our specific sector is SVIIS (swami vivekananda institute for Indian studies). The profs are mostly retired professionals, so they provide good insights into their respective fields.

Last weekend, we visited Mysore Palace, which was built in 1912. It's designs amalgamate hindu, muslim, gothic, and rajput styles of architecture, which was recognizable inside. Some rooms were so different from the next that I was surprised it was all the same place. The money and intricacy that was put into this place was incredible. Unfortunately, taking photos is strictly prohibited so i didn't get any of the interior.

We also visited a huge dam built near the city (the 2nd in the world after Niagara falls to harness hydroelectric power), where after dark, there was a light show over large gardens that grow there. We stopped later at a Muslim Palace that was a grave (same idea as the Taj Mahal), and a Hindu temple on the top of the highest hill in Mysore. There were lots of monkeys there, along with a street full of vendors of the most brightly colored spices and grains.

You have perhaps heard that cows are holy here. They are treated as such, and when I asked why, the answer I got was that they only give. They give work to farmers (pulling tools), milk for drinking and butter (later turned to ghee), and manure for fertilization. Why would we kill something that only gives? A novel idea to be sure. I obviously don't think they are holy, but it's neat to see not only the care for them by people, and their reaction to this treatment. They own the road, along with wherever they choose to roam. I have been in countless traffic back-ups due to a cow slowly mozying along the road. They do react to car horns, but its as if they reserve the right to be on the road, like they know they're invincible!

jared

elephants and temples

To sum up the last few weeks, I love India!While we were still in Kochi, we took a boat tour through the 'backwaters', which is basically a channel that fills with seawater during high tide, but reverses direction and fills with mountain freshwater during low tide. I bought fish from vendors near the Arabian Sea one evening, and brought them to a restaurant to fry them up with masala (spice). I also saw two concerts at a little pavilion. One was a three-piece band with veeda (like a Sitar), tablas, and another drum instrument. The next was a Katakali dance: a traditional enactment of a story in one of the Vedas (the Hindu traditional literature/scriptures). We also took lots of rickshaws and ferries around Fort Kochi, the tourist area, to Ernakulum, the main city, to shop and visit a pharmacy. I got over-the-counter malaria medicine for 20 days for 13 rupees (about 25 cents!). (And don't worry mom, I asked a doctor if it was legit before I took them!)

Then we took an 11 hour night train from Kerala state to Karnataka state. I stayed awake all night for safety because I hear theft is an issue on trains. I played cards and bought little 5 rupee coffee shots from vendors who would walk by periodically. When we got there, we took a bus to Turtle bay, which is a beach resort! While we were there, we played soccer and volleyball with locals, snorkeled, and visited a fishing village. While I was at the village, I made a friend who spoke English, and I went fishing with him and his father at 5:15am (still dark!) in a little canoe. He dropped a net made of fishing line about 1/2 kilometre long, and caught about 200 fish within 2 hours! It was unbelievable to see all the twinkling lights of both the incredulous stars (due to a total lack of air pollution there) and the other fishing boats kilometres away.

We bussed it to an organic farm, but we stopped at a Hindu temple during a festival. It was crammed with people, and there was incense and loud gongs sounding often. I gave a rupee to an elephant who ‘blessed’ me by catching the coin in his trunk, gently tapping my head with his trunk, and then giving his master the coin! There were hundreds of people in a pool within the temple grounds, and I believe it symbolized spiritual purification. I didn’t take a picture then because there was an armed man on the top of a roof keeping a close eye on us (they don’t take to tourist photography too well). At the organic farm, we learned lots of ways to farm without pesticides and instead using natural chemicals and methods. I picked coffee beans, tea leaves, spices (like cardamom, black pepper) and learned how to process them. We took bucket showers because our cabin lacked running water.

Everyone eats with his or her hands here. It is actually quite clean to eat with my hands when I use bite-sized pieces of naan or chapatti bread to scoop up the rice and curry. There is so much variety to the curry here, and I have never been more satisfied with purely vegetarian meals! The spice is beginning not to bother me, though I had a 10 minute bought a few days ago after eating a chili pepper whole (one reason to lessen the presence of my male ego). Speaking of which, I have a story here, but if you love rodents, DON’T read this next part please.

Us guys were having some rat problems in our room, as they were chewing on the wires and keeping us up. So before we knew it, my friend Tom fashioned a spear, but when the rat showed up again, he just couldn’t follow through. So I grabbed the spear, and without really thinking, thrust it at the rat in a fit of adrenaline! We were all shocked and silent for a few seconds until we realized he was dead, and we roared with a cheer! Turns out I got him right in the neck, and they didn’t bother us anymore. We joked about it for the next few days in inside comments, but the girls eventually found out what we did. We also had a massive (7-8 feet) rat snake up in our rafters, and a local coerced it with a stick to leave.

On the way from the organic farm to Mysore, we stopped at an elephant farm and we rode elephants! They are so big and beautiful, and the one I rode was 51 years old. We also visited a Tibetan refugee settlement and their Buddhist temple. Man, they have beautiful architecture and paintings; both colorful and glamorous. The police captured our bus while we were in the temple because they didn’t like foreigners coming there, but our leader bribed them to leave us alone.

I’ll write about Mysore in a bit, gotta go to class.

Kochi via 3 flights and a bus

The smell getting off the plane was sweltering hotness mixed with curry and fresh palm trees (altogether quite inviting). We have arrived in Kochi via 3 flights and a bus in which we were each honored with a lei presented by the drivers of the bus. I felt like I was in Hawaii (though I have never been). Nevertheless, the smell of fresh jasmine flowers around my neck was unbelievale.
I love it here: it's hot, the people are really nice to talk to if they aren't selling anything, and the food (though spicy!) is very tasty. The touristy area of Kochi consists of a fishing port packed with little outdoor shops and an old fort near the Arabian Sea. We helped a crew hoist up a huge chinese fishing net just off the beach. Yes, we definitely dipped our feet in the Arabian Sea, but swimming is sketch due to the polluted Kerala water- Kerala being the state.
In the Brussels airport, I indulged in a Belgian waffle (a small, dry thing that comes without sauce or a fork but is surprisingly delicious) and some Belgian chocolates (both pricey and worth it). I think we are now 10 1/2 hours ahead of Torontonians.
Now for a long awaited nap.

To Begin,

We all know India has a massive population and embodies a plethora of cultures within its borders. What, however, can be learned by experiencing Mother India that pictures and videos do not teach? I haven't the slightest. But perhaps this page will fill with a few strokes and colors of that portrait as this trip unwinds.

I'm Jared Wohlgemut, a 3rd year Biomed student at University of Guelph. I'm about to embark on a semester abroad trip to India, and these will be my stories. Hope you enjoy them as much as I will enjoy living and writing them.