TravelStream™ news feed for member inoursuitcase on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/inoursuitcase en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Tue, 29 Sep 2009 08:14:02 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1253100948/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1253100948/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1253100948/tpod.html Tue, 29 Sep 2009 08:14:02 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Leh, Jammu and Kashmir, India

The gorgeous dark blue and sunshine sky greeted us when we woke up in our Upper Karzoo guesthouse in Leh. The clouds were all whipped up into fluffy bits. We had views of the snow capped Himalayas and the ruined Royal Palace and even a terrace to roll out the yoga mats for the morning session. The weather was perfectly divine. We were laughing when we discovered that Leh was beautiful and full power Shanti. After the chaos of Delhi, the silence here was deafening. Bliss is. We slept in and recovered from our insane bus journey on the Manali to Leh Highway then took off to slowly explore the town which sits at 3500metres and where are short walk can leave you breathless. We were going to need a few days to buy maps, consult locals and plan an independant trek to the Markha Valley region and to acclimatize a bit before we went, it's a harsh and remote environment out there.The town is touristic being full of trekking agencies, restaurants and souvenir stores but it was a good wander around the old town amongst the mud brick houses and also in the Tibetan area where there were lots of maroon and orange robed monks (they love to wear brightly coloured Crocs shoes under their robes). In Leh some of the more traditional Tibetan ways of living were being played out and it was lovely to see that most local Tibetans were dressed in their own traditional clothing. They give a lot of respect to the roots of their dress codes as they always love the way it portrays and reflects what people feel, think and believe. The clothing is both practical and beautiful. Both men and women wear long dark robes of many layers made from hand woven tweed, sheepskin, or wool. The women also wear a long woollen apron called a chuba that is covered in bright horizontal stripes woven like a barcode and sometimes some metal accessories are attached. The shoes are hand weaved from wool or leather. Women never cut their hair, instead they wear long braids and plaits in them and often weave jewelry, stones, and precious gems into the braids. Some of the men wear a  funky hat with fur and silk brocade. One of the most distinctive traits of the Tibetans is their affinity for beautiful jewellry. Jewellry is  handed down amongst Tibetans for generations. Turquoise and coral are two of the most loved stones and we saw flashes of the striking red and blue all over Leh. Jewellery  is considered so important that the women believe that if they forget to wear their earrings that they will return to Earth as a donkey in their next life. We were lucky to see the Tibetans dressed in all their best costumes during the Ladakh parade a couple of days later.Speaking of donkeys, there are lots of street donkeys, asses and mules in Leh that have been injured or are old or disabled and no longer able to work so they are abandoned in the street after an already hard life and forced to eat garbage. We have a definate soft spot for them. One of the first things we saw in Leh was a creatively painted sign for a donkey sanctuary that you could visit. One day Nadine followed the friendly signs for miles out of town until she reached  the "Home For Helpless Donkeys" set up by South African photojournalist Joanne Lefson and run by caretaker Padma Dorje where the cute donkeys recieve medical care, food and a sanctuary away from Leh's vicious dogs. It's a good life for a donkey here eating, mating and playing with a warm space to sleep. What a wonderful idea. Nadine left a whole lot of hugs and a healthy contribution and we bought bunches of carrots to feed to any other abused donkeys we found in the street. What's hot? Donkey sanctuaries and it is possible to sponsor themNext we hit up the second hand clothing stores where the best of Leh's used fashion was on display. It was difficult for me to decide between a pink cheerleaders sweatshirt with a giant velvet letter "A" on the front or the alpine Xmas knitted snowflake design sweater but i ended up going for a quality fleece for 120rupees. I also bought a white puffy, sleeveless down vest that reminded me of rapper Eminem and some red woollen socks that remind me of Santa Claus plus some long socks to cut the toes out of and use as arm warmers. Tulasi scored the sale of the century by winning a shining bright blue, hooded, 80's style arctic Kath and Kim design, retro ski jacket (no matching pants unfortunately) and turtle necked skivvy for the trek. Gold to Tulasi! For the trek we were keen for more of a wild wander in the Himalayas  than a packaged tour and after a little digging around and talking to people we decided it was possible to do a trek on our own by carrying our own gear and staying with Ladakhi families and buying food from them. It was a bit of a gamble because most people take ponies, a guide and camp in tents but we wanted the freedom that comes from being on our own and going where and when we wanted to. A good decision but it meant we had to be prepared with full medical kit and emergency food plus we would have to carry heavy loads at altitude. It was good to run into Australian Beccles and Tim who had just climbed the difficult Stok Kangri mountain and who provided inspiration for our own trek.We had made it to Leh just in time for the "Ladakh Confluence" music festival which was set on the banks of the Indus River, surrounded by mountains and celebrated music, art, heritage, culture and nature. Despite some bad organisation there was an impressive lineup of global musicians playing percussion, folk, fusion, acoustic and experimental styles. We were well impressed with a guy called Davide Swarup from Amsterdam who is a Hang-drum maestro jamming with the Israeli guy we met on the bus to Manali, Ortal Pelleg as they brought in the sunset. Another band we were impressed to hear was Jaipur’s energetic and engaging group Rajasthan Roots with star performer Kutla Khan demonstrating his unbelievable mastery of the morchang (mouth-harp) and khartal (Rajasthani wooden castanets) and band leader Adi Bhasin Post singing up a storm. The band all wore flowing kaftans that were blowing in the breeze as they performed, adding to the magic. Donkeys were wandering around the sight and there was also a rogue goat involved.  We shoved momos into our mouthes, drank endless cups of tea and watched a glorious vision of the sun setting with a mystic pink glow cast over the Himalayas. There was a trashy Tibetan rock band who gathered a mosh pit and a drumming and a sacred fire circle to finish.Another day we went to the Main Bizarre street to meet Beccles and Tim and to watch the start of the colourful Ladakh Summer Festival which begins with a parade through town that ends at the polo ground where various dances, songs and traditional performances are done by cultural groups. It was a full power tourist palava with pasty packaged tour groups and papparazzi taking over the scene and behaving badly but it was a great chance to see all the wonderful costumes and also the very special headpieces worn by the young girls. The pieces which are encrusted with turquoise, silver and red mountain coral are given from mother to daughter and worn on special occasions. There were monks, archery contestants, polo horses, drummers, horn blowers, masked dancers and ladies with elaborate jewellery and flower arrangements. That afternoon i fell extremely ill with the dreaded swine flu symptoms again. I stared at a set of horrendous orange curtains for the next three days as my body fought off an intense chest infection and associated fever. Nasty.We have to get moving on our trek or we're going to miss the Dalai Lama who is giving teachings in McLeod Ganj on September 15-17. We wanted to make it in time to celebrate Tulasi's 40th birthday. So, i rolled out of bed in a weak state and made the final preparations for the trek, packing, tweaking the route, sorting out the medicines and stocking up on dried fruits. There's a wonderful store in town that sells fantastic Apricot kernal cream which is perfect for protecting your facial skin in this Himalayan air.Rain, hail or shine, we leave tomorrow for the Markha Valley trek.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1251715164/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1251715164/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1251715164/tpod.html Tue, 29 Sep 2009 04:57:16 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Manali, India

As promised the Volvo coach picked us up from the side of a busy highway somewhere in Delhi and we immediately found that our pennies were well spent, this one proved to be the most comfortable bus we've taken in India, lay back seats and all. Usually when you buy this kind of ticket (in our case tickets for the deluxe Volvo coach) at a random travel agency in the city, you are ushered onto an overcrowded and skanky paddock basher mini bus with seats that don't move and a thousand stops ahead of it and told it is the bus you paid for. You either take the dodgy bus or lose your money and your time. We were well happy and happened to be seated in front of a spiritual healer from the US who lives in Manali and an Israeli hang drum player who was heading up to Leh to play at the Ladakh Confluence Music Festival, this made for some interesting conversations including one about the river the bus was following apparently flowing uphill, the spiritual healer was convinced that the river was flowing in reverse and tried to inform all the passengers on the bus about it. It was actually flowing downhill and i think the guy had eaten too much LSD back in the day when he was following The Grateful Dead around. The scenery was quite spectacular and it was good to get away from the heat and up into the fresh mountain air of the Kullu Valley in central Himachal Pradesh state. On arrival we headed straight out of Manali (on advice from The Deadhead) and took a short rickshaw ride up the hill to the Vashisht village where we checked into a basic hotel next to a Himachali temple and immediately took the bathroom bucket down to the hot spring geysers and filled up with enough hot water for bucket showers each. Joy and bliss is this piping hot water after a long bus journey. The next day we booked our bus tickets for the famous bone shaking road that would take us to Leh in the beautiful isolated Ladakh region of Jammu and Kashmir. This road is only open for three months of the year, the rest of the year it's snowed under and covered by avalanches. We are nearing the end of the season for travel to this area. It's a popular motorbike journey on Enfields for many travellers and there seems to be alot of Israeli bikers around. Crazy days, but it reeked of adventure and the alternative was an expensive flight and scary landing. Tulasi and Tenzin Samten (currently we are going by our Sivananda ashram and Kopan monastery names) were up for the high altitude challenge and we wanted to make it it time to catch the Confluence Music Festival and the start of The Ladakh Summer Festival. Australian cool cats Beccles and Tim did the journey by bike before us.Like Vashist, the villages surrounding Manali are hippie havens and are known for their cheap charas. Charas is the name given to hand-made hashish in India. It's made from the extract of the cannabis plant that grows wild in India and is an important cash crop for the local people. We saw the plants growing everywhere near Manali where the best quality charas is supposed to be produced. Charas has been used across the Indian sub-continent for its medicinal and religious properties for thousands of years and was sold in government shops (along with opium) in the early days of the British Empire although at present it is supposed to be illegal and travellers apparently get stung for bribes when caught with it.We wandered around town and played with giant white, hairy rabbits which for the record had nothing to do with the charas.Manali itself is popular with Indian holidaymakers and there's lots of adventure activities on offer like zorbing and even yak skiing? but we were more into the survival sport of shopping for clothing to keep us warm. Having bought all the cold weather gear a few times already on this trip, we were not so keen to purchase more socks, jackets, beanies and scarves but it looked like we would have to. How many beanies can your wear in Australia? We found an excellent tailor in town (for the plug, his shop is called Gulatis) who knocked up a lined merino wool oriental style vest for Tulasi and a silk khadi chuba dress for me. Khadi is handspun and hand-woven cloth. The raw materials may be cotton, silk or wool which are spun into threads on a spinning wheel. Mahatma Gandhi advocated the use of Khadi to promote self-reliance (instead of using cloth manufactured in Britain industrially). It's a good fabric to wear in India because it breathes well and i like it because it's a natural organic textile. A chuba is the traditional style Tibetan dress that all the women in the mountain wear everyday. It's a full length, form fitting, sleeveless wrap around dress and is a very feminine and comfortable garment. It's normally worn over a silk blouse but it would be nice to wear it without the undergarment to a formal occasion at home. As far as i'm concerned, the silk khadi cuba is the new little black dress.The tailor worked well into the night on our garments and they even delivered them by rickshaw to our hotel.What's hot? hotel delivered custom-fitted Tibetan chuba dressesWe also stocked up on lots of dried fruits and nuts as bus snacks for the crazy road trip. The orchards of Himachal produce huge quantities of apples, pears, plums and apricots. Tulasi is particularly fond of whole dried apricots that you can bite the almond tasting apricot kernal out of the middle of. This region is famous for it's warm Kullu shawls which are woven on handlooms using wool from sheep, pashmina goats or angora rabbits and are decorated with wonderful designs. The shawls are woven by local women who have organised themselves into weaving co-operatives and each village has a different weaving style. I bought scarves for gifts and Tulasi bought a shawl from the Bhutti Weaver's Co-operative in Manali town. Nice one. Enough about the shopping. We ran into some friends from Kathmandu who had spent the last few weeks making beautiful djembe drums in Rishikesh, one of which they played at the jam session at the World Peace Cafe. We also listened to a guy play a wonderful sitar solo for about an hour.Now moving on to the Ladakh roadtrip.The night was pitch black and a vicious street dog fight had just finished when a car arrived to pick us up from the deserted main street of Vashisht and take us to our 2am private bus that would spend the next 20 hours crawling it's way to Leh in the Indian Himalayans 479km away. Ladakh translates into English as "The Land Of High Passes" and we passed over quite a few. The Manali to Leh highway crosses some of the highest motorable mountain passes in the world, including Rohtang La (3,978m), Baralacha La (4,892m), Lachulung La (5,059m) and Taglang La (5,325m). This historical trade route was originally linked to Yarkhand and was severed by the India-China war in 1962, and later was transformed in to military supply road by the Indian Army.We were in and out of sleep as the bus performed switchback after switchback in the dark on the unpaved bumpy jumpy road and made it's way over the Rohtang Pass. Surprisingly, there were shepherds out in the middle of the night herding sheep and goats along the road. Once the sun showed it's face for the morning, we discovered we were well into amongst it, into the heart of the mountains and snow caps were in view. The colours of the landscape were rich in the spectacular Himalayan scenery. The bus stopped so passengers could drink an early morning chai before continuing on all day. Later we stopped at roadside yurt tents made from parachutes for snacks of butter chapatti bread and more chai. The bus driver was a fast talking guy with a dyed, jet black, lego head haircut, was decked out in faux gold-rimmed Rayban sunglasses and a shiny black leather jacket and was manically chewing gum for the whole trip. The guy proved to be a very experienced driver / pilot as he dealt with oncoming trucks, petrol tankers, military convoys and other buses on the single lane road, dodged ridiculous cliff drop-offs (sometimes of hundreds or thousands of metres) where the ground threatened to landslide at any moment (it was best not to look down) and took diversions and short cuts when he thought it was safe to do so. The drive took us across the More Plains which is an uninhabitable area featuring some stunning sand and rock natural formations and flanked by mountain ranges on both sides, it passes by the Sumkhel Lungpa River and in parts there is no road to follow. In fact, there is really no settlements at all along the highway but we did see gangs of road crews (mostly Nepali migrants) working the horrendous job of resurfacing the road for the small wage of 150rupees a day.I started to read the road signs which were getting more and more obscure as the journey went on. They were designed so people drive safely. Some were hilariously funny like "If You Are Married, Please Divorce Speed", 'The Bend, Be Slow My Friend", "Be Slower On The Earth Than Quicker To Eternity", "Drive on Horse Power Not Rum Power", "Mind Your Brakes Or Break Your Mind", "Drinking Whisky, Driving Risky", "Overtaker, Beware Undertaker" and "Don't Gossip, Let Him Drive", so very Indian indeed. Other ones in the area include: Do Your Dozing In BedImpatient on Road, Patient in HospitalDrive Like Hell And You'll Be ThereDo Not Be Rash and End In CrashDon't Dream Otherwise you'll ScreamHospital Ceilings Are Boring To Look At, Avoid AccidentMake Love Not War But Nothing While Driving and of course the best one:"Darling I Want You But You're Driving Too Fast"Did one individual person invent all these random signs which seem to be more of a distraction than safety messages or was it a group brainstorming activity?Most people do this remarkable journey in two days giving them time to acclimatize but us hardcores decided we would risk it and get it done straight. It wasn't the most comfortable bus trip but we wouldn't have changed it for the world, the landscapes were beautiful. Owing to the high altitudes, the heights of which we were not aware of before we began the ascent and the low-oxygen levels in the air we experienced slight mountain sickness by becoming very tired, nauseus and both of us suffered from headaches. Luckily we had our sleeping bags to keep us warm otherwise we would have frozen ourselves solid. There were numerous military checkpoints along the way and even a check for swine flu symptoms at one point. Of course i had all the symptoms again. Finally we reached Leh and it was just in the nick of time because most of the passengers were starting to morph into various creatures and the signs of cabin fever had started to appear.It was quite late at night, The Ladakh Festival is starting and His Holiness The 14th Dalai Lama had just left town so there were many tourists around. We allowed a hotel tout to guide us to a budget guesthouse in Upper Karzoo which turned out to be a good deal. Sometimes the bus touts come in handy, they know where to find the rooms when nothing else is available.We are safely up in the mountains and the Ladakh adventure begins.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1251378778/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1251378778/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1251378778/tpod.html Mon, 21 Sep 2009 10:57:37 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Delhi, India

We're back in Delhi. After taking an afternoon train from Agra to Delhi, we checked into a dive of a room in the delightful Vivek Hotel which is located in the heart of the seedy traveller's hub of Paharganj. Worst room in the best hotel and a good choice because the chefs there made gorgeous salads and we could do yoga on the rooftop before the kitchen opened in the mornings.&nbsp;Unfortunately, there was also a stalker&nbsp;hotel manager who&nbsp;decided he would follow&nbsp;Tulasi from the ashram around and&nbsp;try to come in our room and all that annoying&nbsp;jazz.&nbsp;Faulty towers staff.We weren't up for another historical monument viewing day and the heat was fairly draining on the energy levels so we dug a little deeper and found some unusual and surprising Delhi treasures to explore. Kitsch style. We thrived in the city chaos that had seemed so ridiculously confronting when we had first landed here from Cairo and started our&nbsp;love affair with India some&nbsp;nine months ago. It seemed almost calm and we remembered it to be very hectic. The energy&nbsp;of the city had us buzzing and&nbsp;we found some interesting and inspiring experiences amongst the filth, poverty&nbsp;and grime that appears on the surface. There always seemed to be a beggar's hand outstretched for money but there's alot of wealthy Indians too and we got a glimpse into the lives of a good cross-section of the Delhites as we traversed across the old and new parts of the city exploring museums, mosques&nbsp;and temples, paying our respect to Mahatma Gandhi, picking up some leather bound books at Khan Market, dodging Indians at Chowri Chowk, checking out India Gate, going wild at the zoo, experiencing a monsoonal flashflood whilst stuck in a rickshaw at peak hour, mingling with&nbsp;snobbish art aficionados&nbsp;and self-proclaimed 'intellectuals' at <i>The National Art Summit and&nbsp;working ourselves up into&nbsp;a magnificent shopping frenzy that left us exhausted. We even went to a McDonalds restaurant.Mono Loco was beside himself with joy when he got wind that we were going to the zoo. The National Zoological Gardens were something a little bit different for the day and the animal's enclosures were quite adequate and resembled their natural habitats, some of them were so large that we couldn't even see the animals that lived there or perhaps there were a few animals on vacation or&nbsp;maybe it was all you can eat&nbsp;buffet night happening down at the sloth bear pavilion. It took most of the day to cruise around the large&nbsp;zoo and pose for photos&nbsp;and sign autographs for all the Indian visitors. We felt like we were in the zoo when groups of people followed us around&nbsp;and to them, &nbsp;we seemed to be even more fascinating than the animals. There were a few exotic specimens on offer and a whole lot of Indian antelopes. Included in the day was viewing of &nbsp;water birds, liontailed macaque, chimpanzee, deer, Himalayan Black Bear (who was distressed in the heat), tiger, alligator, caiman, leopard, sloth bear, Indian rhinoceros, pheasants, buffalo, African elephant, wild boar, lion, peafowl, crocodile, hippopotamus, wolf, zebra, giraffe, asiatic lion, gibbon, jackal, jaguar, cassowary, emu and a curious gibbon that freaked out at Mono Loco and tried to steal him from us, Mono Loco is better off in the care of his human mums. There were some more of those bizarre trash bin animals that i've seen getting around all over India including one doing security.The crafts museum was well done with exhibits from all over India including metalware, woodwork, old jewellery, tribal masks, puppets, paintings and terracotta figures, the whole site set up so artisans could work in their traditional way. Unfortunately none of them are selling anything there and they did a very desperate sales presentation to us as we left. We were also lucky on this day to catch the peak day of the four day <i>National Art Summit which was held in a modern (air-conditioned) exhibition centre and showcased&nbsp;a most diverse range of modern and contemporary paintings, sculpture, photography, mix media, prints, drawings and video art by established and upcoming artists. With over 50 top galleries from around the world attending, we had a great time wandering around amongst a whole lot of art enthusiasts which included art collectors, artists, critics, curators and students from across India and overseas. We stood out like sore thumbs in our well-worn travel threads. We think people might have thought we were starving artists and didn't judge us. The people watching was almost as good as the art on display which was of high standard and i was in my element as each corner turned revealed a piece more inspiring than the last. It was a full power fashion scene with everybody checking each other out and talking about the art loudly. There was a great outdoor installation space. One of our favourite pieces outside was an installation of a giant dalmation dog covered in tiny glass beads. The artist of this particular piece agreed to have his photo taken with me but when i asked Nadine to take it she didn't realize it was his piece and thinking he was another Indian random man she waved him out of the photo. Hilarious. i was surprised that taking photographs of the artworks was possible and snapped away at all my favourite ones. Whilst inside the exhibition rooms there was a raging monsoonal storm lashing outside and everyone was asked to remain inside until it calmed down, some of the pieces were damaged and tree branch debris littered the roads. It didn't matter to us because we spent hours there anyway. This exhibition was our highlight of Delhi and we were well impressed with the set up. Upon leaving, we were standing on the street outside the exhibition centre when a well dressed man approached us and told us that we would have to pay more for a rickshaw if we stood where 'the intellectuals' waited for a ride. Indian art, it'll surprise you and attending the art summit was better than traipsing all over town looking for galleries plus we found some real coffee in the cafe there. Bliss is.This same day we declared ourselves intellectuals and&nbsp;paid more for a rickshaw to take us back to Pahaganj although the sun was gone and the sky turning black due to a beast of a storm cloud that was brewing overhead. We made it to the&nbsp;middle of the&nbsp;Connaught Place ring road where it was peak hour traffic before i&nbsp;leaned out the door and yelled out at the top of my lungs "<i>bring the chickens in, a storm's a brewing" as i do whenever there is a storm and at that moment the heavens broke open and sideways rain pelted us like golfballs, there was no escaping it, the flimsy plastic doors of the rickshaw flapped around in the wind and&nbsp;we were soaked to our skin with the full power monsoonal rain, quite an experience in the city.&nbsp;Just add water and you have&nbsp;an instant flood. The city was brought to a standstill and traffic was forced to slow down or stop, our rickshaw stalled on the road and refused to start. We were directly under a large tree, the large branches of which were threatening to fall and crush us dead, it was really that dramatic and the one time i have felt terror in India. The scene became a blur of car lights, water and honking horns and cars slid around and screeched their tyres occasionally bumping into each other like dodgem cars at a carnival.There was no shelter, no relief from the storm. Our driver was barefoot in the rising water and frantically trying to push us and his rig to safety. Once&nbsp;the storm calmed&nbsp;a little we saw debris littering the&nbsp;road and&nbsp;the Delhites having just finished their working day took off their shoes and waded through the flooded streets with big grins on their faces. It has been a hot summer and the cool that comes with the rain is a welcome relief to the residents. We ended up at <i>McDonalds restaurant of all places and were curious to see what was on the menu. A moustache-od Indian doorman in hilarious uniform (a cross between a cop, a maharaja king and an action hero complete with white latex accessories) opened the door for us to enter and we were greeted with a very busy restaurant full of people stuffing french fries and burgers into their mouthes. Unfortunately the evil&nbsp;<i>Ronald McDonald has made it to India, the dirty clown. No sacred cow on the menu though.&nbsp;We dodged the&nbsp;<i>McAlloo Tikka and&nbsp;the <i>Maharaja Mac burgers and went for thickshakes and ice-cream instead.One of the days we went to <i>The Bahá'í House of Worship which is known as the <i>Lotus Temple due to it's flowerlike shape and&nbsp;this was another highlight of Delhi although the inside was closed the day we&nbsp;visited. The Bahá'í laws emphasize that the spirit of the <i>House of Worship be a gathering place where people of all religions may worship God without denominational restrictions. The temple looks a little bit like the <i>Sydney Opera House. It's constructed in a circular shape inspired by the lotus flower and its design is composed of 27 free-standing marble clad petals arranged in clusters of three to form nine sides, an impressive piece of architecture.We roamed around the <i>National Gallery of Modern Art and also the <i>National Museum plus went crazy at the city's quirky doll museum. I bought a beautiful print of my favourite piece from the art gallery, it's of an oil painting called <i>'Girl With an Apple' by an artist prince called <i>Raja Ravi Verma. The driver who took us to the <i>Shankar's International Doll Museum was baffled as to why we wanted to visit it, telling us it was just for kids. This place was set up by the renowned political cartoonist, <i>Shankar Pillai&nbsp;and has one of the planet's biggest collections of&nbsp; costume dolls that stare at you as you enter the building and we were happy to see Australia represented by a couple of Aboriginal dolls and a koala. It's about as much fun as you can have for ten rupees but a little bit freaky to have all those tiny glass and plastic eyes looking at you and there were&nbsp;no Barbie dolls in the collection. We couldn't find the Mahatma Gandhi museum but went to pay our respects at the memorial marking the spot where he was killed. It is the location where Mahatma Gandhi "The Father Of The Nation" spent the last 144 days of his life and was assassinated on January 30, 1948. On display in the Museum are photographs, sculptures, paintings, frescos, inscriptions on rocks and relics pertaining to the years Mahatma Gandhi spent here. The meagre personal effects of Gandhiji too are carefully preserved.&nbsp;There is an impressive larger than life statue of Mahatma Gandhi with a boy and a girl holding a dove in their hands standing on either side, emerging out of&nbsp;a globe, symbolising his universal concern for the poor and the deprived. The shopping frenzy was ridiculous and stretched across the city. We went to Khan Market and hunted down some leather bound books that are copies of our favourite spiritual classics, i went madhouse at Fabindia buying up some beautiful cotton dresses and we also ended up buying clown costume accessories of hats, fascinators and ruffled braces at some random shopping complex called N Block in Greater Kailash for ultra-wealthy Delhites. Then we headed to the state emporiums and on to the bargain hunter's paradise of Paharganj where anything and everything from all over India is up for sale. I did some business with earrings and we both scored some wooden blocks for printing and some embroidered poofs, cushion covers&nbsp;and mirror-worked wall hangings from Kutch. I hit the jackpot when i found a treasure trove of tribal conch and silver jewellery from Gujarat and Rajastan being sold by ladies down a side street in Janpath and i also bought some leather pixie shoes. We each have a lifetime supply of bindis and Himalaya and Biotique products and we stocked up on a couple of khadi cotton kurtas.We don't want to forget India and there's not much chance of that because we have souvenired half of Delhi and it's sitting in our parent's spare rooms in Oz. A shopping frenzy.After the palava of posting our packages home to Australia, we were ready to head for the hills once again, this time to the most Northern parts of India including&nbsp;Leh and the Ladakh region for trekking and a festival in Jammu and Kasmir state, Mcleod Ganj to see&nbsp;His Holiness The&nbsp;Dalai Lama in Himachal Pradesh and Amritstar for The Golden Temple in Punjab before heading to Rishikesh for more yoga and then thinking about getting home for Christmas, this is the last leg of&nbsp;an amazing journey that we don't want to end, adjusting to life back in Australia is sure to be difficult after such a long time away from any kind of regular life in society.What's hot? FreedomFirst we take a bus to Manali,&nbsp;a good stopover place before&nbsp;travelling further north, we lashed out and bought tickets on the comfortable delux bus at double the price of the state bus.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250426344/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250426344/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250426344/tpod.html Thu, 27 Aug 2009 09:06:58 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India

We were off and racing to the train station at Jhansi 18km away from Occhre in a small 'Wacky Races' collectivo autorickshaw, crammed in sardine style&nbsp;with 12 other people and our backpacks too. All for Indian prices. Next we took another one from the Jhansi bus to train station with another crew including a female sadhu who spoke Hindi to us for ten minutes, i think she was putting a curse on us or giving us a blessing. The woman was holding out her hand for money and eating&nbsp;a fruit salad picnic from her metal alms bowl. I gave her all my mirrored glass bangles.The ticket purchase was easy&nbsp;but we only bought general cattle class and ended up being sprung by the conductor in the less busy sleeper class and had to pay 70 more rupees to get to Agra.&nbsp;We snacked on roasted peanuts the whole way there and threw the shells all over the floor. There were five transvestites in our cabin who had obviously been in the game a long time as they had long hair, nails, little breasts, jewellery including toe and nose rings and elaborate earrings, handbags, saris and high heeled shoes. They talked and laughed loudly and caused a scene when they were told to move down to general when it was discovered they had no tickets.&nbsp;Indians are a little bit afraid of these ladies because they&nbsp;supposedly have the power to put terrible curses on people unless you give them money. Some of them make a living this wayOnce in Agra it turned out that we&nbsp;had scored a good hotel with an amazing view of the Taj Mahal from it's rooftop restaurant in the Taj Ganj area where all the artisans and labourers who built the extravagant monument first settled back in the day, the day being 1631. Nice one. I must admit i did get a breathtaking '<i>Ahhh Wowwww , <i>Woaaahhh,<i> it's fantastic' feeling the first time i saw the grand palace dominating the skyline, it looks so pure and dollhouse perfect that it seemed to be glowing, very surreal. We'd been looking at a picture of the Taj Mahal on the front of our Lonely Planet guide book for a long time but there is something about seeing the real thing. It gives you the feeling that dreams can come true. At the hotel i&nbsp;found a tiny retro snowdome with a plastic statue of the Taj Mahal inside that is showered in glitter when you shake it. My life is now complete, that is all i ever wanted in life. What's hot? Snowdomes. The Taj Mahal is simply beautiful. i couldn't wait to touch it to make sure i was really there but it turned out, i would have to wait another day.Things went a little pear-shaped from here.While i was bust blogging in the internet cafe across the road from the hotel, Nadine suddenly appeared at the door crying her eyes out and holding a towel on her arm which was dripping blood, alot of blood. My first thought was that she had been knifed in the street but eventually she told me she had had an accident, she had slipped over in the shower whilst she was doing laundry and landed on some serrated tiles, taking a large slice out of her elbow. She had sat on the floor of the shower naked and wondering what to do whilst blood was pooling all around her like a bad horror movie. There was actual elbow skin on the floor. Somehow she got dressed and over the road and i took over from there, she was in shock the poor little lamb. I took her up to the hotel room and cleaned the wound then tipped out the remaining contents of our two first aid kits, all the good gear has been pillaged over the past two years and all we have left is an exotic mish mash of medicines and first-aidy thingybobs that have words written in strange languages on them. You can usually find what you need though if you rummage, we've collected a good range in there having been through quite a few medical situations. I inspected the wound&nbsp; and found it to be a deep cut on the funny bone with lots of bruising and a scrape up the forearm. The cut is in a smiley face design so it will be a good party trick scar in the future when we can draw eyes on it and make it talk. Trust Nads the clown to get a smiley face shaped cut on her funny bone. Bahahahaha!!! She's the only clown in the history of the world to forget her red stick on nose which is funny in itself.&nbsp;We made the decision to deal with the wound ourselves because the thought of going to an Indian hospital or doctor is fairly daunting. I went to a pharmacy and bought all the gear like cotton wool, cleansing solution, iodine and betadine, bandages, gauze and even an arm sling. I set up a mini surgery in the bathroom then cleaned the cut well and tried to close it up with skin closure bandaid plasters then and put a pressure bandage on it. I gave Nads some pain killers and i was feeling fairly confident about being in control and Nads had calmed down but then as she lifted her arm off the pillow, blood started to stream from it and large red stain began to spread across the pillow. The bleeding was far from controlled. There was no other choice but to go to hospital late on a Sunday night. A rickshaw driver took us to a couple of backyard doctor's houses that were located in the filthy, dark backstreets of Taj Ganj, luckily they were all closed and we ended up at a private hospital which we found specialized in <i>'IVF Test Tube Babies' as the sign read. We were the only patients, we woke up the night shift nurse who was snoozing away in front of an '<i>Indian idol' type television show and then sat in the waiting room under a sign that read <i>'determining the gender of your unborn baby is punishable by law, not practiced here'. The&nbsp; assistant cleaned the wound (with no gloves on) then called the big boss Doctor who was busy attending a party although he was well happy to come to work knowing that a foreigner's dollars were involved. It was all very 1980's hospital show but clean enough and we had confidence in the highly educated, English speaking doctor. The verdict was stitches that were supposed to be sewn using anesthetic. Nadine was taken into the clinic's labour ward and a strange old lady came to visit her than the procedure took place. We're not sure if it was forgotten or that it was decided not to use it but the anesthetic was nowhere to be seen and the three stitches were done straight up. A pain killer was injected into nadsy's arse cheek, everything was dressed and we were on our way home. Mono Loco also had a bandage applied to his arm and the next day after another hospital visit, i bought Nads some gold chocolate coins for being so brave. Drama over.We took a bus out to the fortified city of Fatehpur Sikh, 40km away from Agra and spent the afternoon wandering around the Dargah Mosque, the sufi saint Shaikh Salim Chishti's tomb, the great red sandstone palace of Jodh Bai and the Diwan-i-Am. Touts and vendors were out in full force. We had previously been spoiled at the Orchhe palace and thought it to be much more special than the one here, but we did admire the Persian, Islamic and Indian designs and especially liked the Panch Mahal which is a five-storied pavilion that was used by the court ladies. There is also an interesting courtyard where it is said the Emperor Akbar played a chess like game using slaves as playing pieces. The other quirky occurrence of the day was watching tourists wear baskets on their heads at the mosque where you have to cover your head and seeing muslims lick the wall with their tongues at a particular spot inside the saint's tomb. There was some good tourist watching opportunities. On the way back to Agra in the bus, Nadine was stuck with a stare bear next to her who was edging close to getting a Hilltop Helen's '<i>get-outta-it' elbow in his face after he 'accidentally' went for the grope on Nadia's left breast. We took an 'Indian helicopter', a cycle rickshaw back to the hotel where we managed to score a partial sunset view over the Taj Mahal and saw it silhouetted on the skyline. Lucky&nbsp; duck ducks.The next morning we were out the door at 5:45am so we could hit the Taj Mahal before the hourdes of day-trippers arrived. It's an absolute tourist mecca. We parted with the hefty 750rupees each to get in the gates and were fortunate enough to spend time at the Taj with only a handful of the first visitors for the day, a relaxing way to appreciate the grandeur of the monument and to get some photos without every man and his dog and Korean tour group member sticking their head in them. The first view we got was of the classic Taj Mahal seen in photographs with the monument in the distance on a raised marble platform at the Northern end of classical Mughal gardens, four small domes, a central bulbous dome and four decorative minarets at each corner of the platform. We spent a long time skylarking here, watching tourist behaviour, offering to take solo visitor's pictures on their cameras and taking foolish photographs like the jump for joy and lining up shots so it looked like we were lifting the top off the main dome of the Taj as though it was a butler's serving plate, lame really.The Taj Mahal is actually a sad tribute to love, it's a mausoleum built by Emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal who died giving birth to their 14th child. Poor Jahan apparently had some serious karma debts to pay and not long after the Taj was finished, he was imprisoned at Agra Fort from where he could only see his creation. Not sure what became of all the children. We ventured closer and took some more photos from a platform where you could see the monument reflected in the watercourses and where we met our new husbands of the day, wealthy Punjabi men who were dressed in large turbans, white suits and most sporting impressive beards and sunglasses, these guys were delighted when we agreed to pose for photographs with them, honeymoon style in front of the Taj and had their personal photographer record the event . Up close and personal with the Taj, we could admire the white marble that's carved with flowers and inlaid with thousands of semi-precious stones and circumambulate the exterior with it's four symmetrical faces with vaulted arches and quotations from the Quran written in calligraphy using inlaid jasper. The scene was made all the more beautiful as the Indian women moved around with their colourful saris and dark skin contrasting against the white of the marble. We stopped to chat with a few curious families. The interior was not so interesting with the false tombs of Mumtaz and Jahan and not much else but it's an exhilerating feeling to be inside such a beautiful structure nonetheless. We made our way outside to view the mosque and jawab and get some more Taj views through the large archways. The whole thing is in pristine condition.On the way out i noticed alot of people having their photographs taken on a particular bench chair and it turns out that Diana, Princess Of Wales had sat there during her solo visit away from her husband Prince Charles. A photograph of her sitting on this bench seat was considered to be a statement of her solitude and was taken not long before her marriage ended, that's the friendly fact for today. Once outside we dodged the spruikers outside the marble and carpet emporiums and struck a deal with a non-English speaking cycle rickshaw guy to take us through the crazy traffic to the Itimad-Ud-Dalah,&nbsp; otherwise known as the Baby Taj and then on to Mehtab Bagh park where we got a good view of the back of the Taj from across the Yamuna River, it looked alot like the front. We also ended up in some other random locations because we couldn't communicate with the driver, one of these was some bizarre Durga and Hanuman shrines with some friendly guardians who grew cabbages in the field next to it and had built a cement staircase with no railing that was freestanding and lead up to the sky from where you could take photos of the Taj above the trees. A true stairway to heaven perhaps. They gave us a Krishna tikka dot and were well happy we had visited them. Before we had left the driver / rider had said we were going on a '<i>sun safari tour in his Indian plane, no gasoline, just exercise' . We prefer to take the cycle instead of the auto rickshaw because these guys badly need work, the rigs are better for the environment and we see everything more slowly. Our guy had skinny legs, dirty disco inspired clothes, ripped pants, half a bike seat and some rags that he wiped sweat off with. He rode the whole way with some bidi cigarettes and a pack of matches clutched in his hand. The heat was extremely grueling on the guy who pedalled us around for more than 3 hours in the scorching midday sun. We originally set the rate at 120rupees but ended up giving him 300 at the end of his exhausting ride and he was well happy and joyful, almost dancing in the street.I bought a beautiful little marble treasure box inlaid with stones and another snowdome to satisfy my snowdome fetish. We're good at bargaining now. I play the Indian's at their own game. I say<i> 'this (insert souvenir name) is cheap and best, price is not expensive, i am your first customer today, i am lucky customer, Indian prices please'? Then i ask for their starting price by saying <i>'how much you sell it for'? Then after this i ask '<i>not your price, not my price, a little bit less please sir' and it seems to be a good way to stay in control of the annoying bargaining situation. At first in Morocco we found it excruciating to bargain for every small item but now we find the interaction to be a good way to talk with the locals and also a fun game with lots of humour and wit involved. What's hot? bargaining. A guy waved a sign advertising ice-cream at me in the street so i stole it and danced with it for awhile spruiking outside his shop. <i>Sab Kuch Milega- 'Everything is possible' in India.A couple of quotes trying to sum up the beauty of the Taj Mahal:'<i>a teardrop on the face of eternity' - Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore<i>'the embodiment of all things pure' - British writer Rudyard KiplingAgreed.Tomorrow we are back on the train to the capital Delhi where our Indian adventure began 10 months ago. We are as they say in India '<i>Enjoying The Life'
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250262592/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250262592/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250262592/tpod.html Sat, 22 Aug 2009 00:11:41 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Orchha, Madhya Pradesh, India

The early morning bus to Orchha was a prime specimen of comfort for a surprising change with&nbsp;leg room and few stops on the way. The people of Northern Madhya Pradesh state proved to be a friendly bunch even giving us free bananas and cucumbers at&nbsp;one rest stop. During a 20minute stop Nads and i did a clown show for the chai wallahs and ladoo sellers at the bus station who whooped in laughter and clapped&nbsp;as we well, made clowns of ourselves. it was a hilariously&nbsp;funny bus trip because we had overdosed on chai and a share pack of Tangy Spanish Tomato Lays chips.The bus left us on the highway and we struck a deal with three lads in a rickshaw to take us to Orchha, 8km away. Competition was fierce for our fare and a short fight broke out. The lads sparked up their MP3 player and attached it to some hardcore speakers from which blasted Hindi movie music as we joined the 'Wacky Races' inspired rickshaw race into town.&nbsp;We kept all our fingers and toes well inside the rig while enduring the crazy driving bumper car style. That's why we travel Indian style for Indian prices, it's way more fun.We scored a hotel right next to the Ram Raja temple where Hindus faithfuls believe Lord Rama lives and breathes. Gold. The monsoonal rain made an appearance shortly after we arrived turning the dry as a bone road into a flooded stream&nbsp;within ten minutes. We grabbed the brollies and set off to check out the friendly town. We walked down to the boulder strewn Betwa River past a sadhu who offered us chai and&nbsp;past a colourful temple where people were taking shelter. We listened to the divine sounds of women and children chanting and singing at the shrine and felt grateful once again for being in India. Magik. I took a very depressing phtograph of an anorexic cow standing in the middle of the road in the pouring rain, it looked hauntingly sad.The next morning we rolled out the yoga mats on the rooftop next to the Ram Raja temple and got the prana started for the day whilst vendors set up their chai, food and sweets and flower offering stalls below us. I had done my first headstand asana on the Mona Lisa rooftop in Varanasi so was happy to be making progress with the yoga thanks to my good teacher in Tulasi from the ashram. Reeettaaainnnn. We bought some chunky jewellery and had breakfast with some cows. There were no foreign tourists around as most people were day trippers here so we set off for the fairytale&nbsp;palace of Jehangir Mahal and had it to ourselves. It's a medieval castle of breathtaking architecture and we had a great time exploring it and roaming around the surrounding forest amidst ruins.The&nbsp;fort complex is located on a seasonal&nbsp;island in River&nbsp;Betwa but there were no crocodiles&nbsp;in the moat nor dragons inside to protect it.&nbsp;There were some persistent tour guides though and one guy&nbsp;even had an umbrella with his name and a 'For Rant (Rent)' sign on it. Not sure if you could rent him or his umbrella.&nbsp;A four-arched bridge leads to the amazing fort complex on the island. The Jahangir Mahal was built in stone by Bir Singh Deo in the early part of the 17th century to mark the visit of the Mughal Emperor, quite the arse kissing welcome&nbsp;gift. Barbie would have loved to live here too, it was like a gothic dollhouse. Everything was symmetrical and every&nbsp;angle you looked from gave you a different glimpse of beauty.&nbsp;We spent seven hours there exploring each&nbsp;level, trekking up every staircase, finding all the secret rooms, watching the&nbsp;resident black-faced monkeys&nbsp;and soaking up the views from the rooftop.We entered through a&nbsp;tall set of wooden doors complete with heavy duty spikes designed to keep invaders and elephants out. My first reaction was that it would be a great venue for a psytrance party and i even picked out a space for the DJ decks. This&nbsp;palace&nbsp;was made to stand the test of time and was in very good condition, almost in it's original state. The stone had aged well and the colours were gorgeous.&nbsp;The castle's splendour is&nbsp;evidence of the glory of the Bundela rulers of the time. Some original artworks remained painted on the ceilings.&nbsp;The palace is&nbsp;built on a rectangular base and is relieved by a circular tower at each corner surmounted by a dome, while two lines of graceful balconies supported on brackets mark the central storeys. The roof is crowned by eight large fluted onion domes, with smaller domes between them, connected by an ornamental balustrade. Vultures sit and spread their wings on the spires at the top. It's all so pleasing to the eye. I even found a bondage room complete with metal rings built into the walls. It was early so we did a photo shoot and Nads made a movie of me&nbsp;in the central courtyard doing an umbrella jump for joy dancing an singing act from &nbsp;<i>'Singing In The Rain' from the 1952 comedy musical film:I'm singing in the rainJust singing in the rainWhat a glorious feelin'I'm happy againI'm laughing at cloudsSo dark up aboveThe sun's in my heartAnd I'm ready for loveLet the stormy clouds chaseEveryone from the placeCome on with the rainI've a smile on my faceI walk down the laneWith a happy refrainJust singin',Singin' in the rainDancin' in the rainDee-ah dee-ah dee-ahDee-ah dee-ah dee-ahI'm happy again!I'm singin' and dancin' in the rain!I'm dancin' and singin' in the rain...Be sure to watch the video below for a live performance.You can't beat India in the monsoon season, everybody has a smile on their face. The palace was light and airy with countless windows and pierced stone screens that looked out over the skyline to the west and over the tops of trees and ruins in the other directions. it made you want to roam around the forest surrounding the castle and so we did. There were lots of goats and some ruins of havelis and Rapunzel type towers that have been overgrown with jungle, it looks like a maze of secret gardens. While Nads went to get some water, i watched some guys chase and milk a goat, drink the milk then throw rocks at the goat and also found a dead cow. The best views of the palace were from through the forest where it was framed by tree branches and looked even more like a surreal fantasy come to life, it was as though you were dreaming. It reminded me of the fairytale Sleeping Beauty:<i>Sleeping Beauty is a love story which includes a princess and a handsome prince. At the christening of a long-wished-for princess, fairies invited as godmothers offered gifts, such as beauty, wit, and musical talent. However, a wicked fairy who had been overlooked placed the princess under an enchantment as her gift, saying that, on reaching adulthood, she would prick her finger on a spindle and die. A good fairy, though unable to completely reverse the spell, said that the princess would instead sleep for a hundred years, until awakened by the kiss of a prince and true love's first kiss.<i>The king forbade spinning on distaff or spindle, or the possession of one, upon pain of death, throughout the kingdom, but all in vain. When the princess was fifteen or sixteen she chanced to come upon an old woman in a tower of the castle, who was spinning. The Princess asked to try the unfamiliar task and the inevitable happened. The wicked fairy's curse was fulfilled. The good fairy returned and put everyone in the castle to sleep. A forest of briars sprang up around the castle, shielding it from the outside world: no one could try to penetrate it without facing certain death in the thorns.After a hundred years had passed, a prince who had heard the story of the enchantment braved the wood, which parted at his approach, and entered the castle. He trembled upon seeing the princess's beauty and fell on his knees before her. He kissed her, then she woke up, then everyone in the castle woke&nbsp;and they all lived happily ever after.We went out of the palace walls to the river then checked out the 'pleasure pavilion' or concubine's palace which i think was more like camel stables. We re-entered the palace through the ornate ceremonial gateway that was built for the Emperor's visit and where two stone elephants flank both sides with bells in their mouths before going to the cenotaphs which are tributes to Orchha's rulers. We met lots of kids on the way home and stuck temporary tattoos all over them.This day of adventure was one of the best days of my life and is counted as further proof that i was a princess in Northern&nbsp;India in one of my past lives.&nbsp;True story.The next day we did the early yoga then went to the morning puja at the Ram Raja temple where hindu frenzy was in full swing with people chanting, making offerings of food, sweets, flowers&nbsp;and cash, touching their foreheads to the floor, lighting incense&nbsp;and circling statues of Rama. Lord Rama is worshipped as king.Orchha lived up to it's name (hidden place) and goes down as one of the most special places we've visited, completely under-rated by Lonely Planet and other travellers, that's our opinion anyway.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250249798/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250249798/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1250249798/tpod.html Fri, 21 Aug 2009 23:59:13 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh, India

Nadine caught the swine flu symptoms for a couple of days but we enjoyed our last bit of time in Varanasi lounging around the ghats, making conversation with spiritual types, saying our good-byes to our new friends and buying them gifts, sitting around with threads tied to our toes making macrame jewellery and doing a lulu hair wrap dreadlock extension workshop. We each learned to put a dreadlock extension in each other's hair then cut it out when it was finished. Dreadlocks are for hippies and we're not hippies. Hahahaha! We even had pirate t-shirts printed for all the waiters and chefs at Mona Lisa Cafe. Our very own pirate crew!! Aarrggh me mateys! The day that Nadia was ill, i had gone on an adventure in the backstreets and had not returned all day. Vishal, our favourite waiter heard Nadine crying in the room and went in to comfort her and keep her company until i returned. After this he was calling her mum. I felt terrible when i came back to find Nadia sobbing with a high fever and her new son looking after her. I immediately threw a wet towel over her and she felt better, the next day the symptoms had cooled down and we were able to get the last tourist quota tickets on the train to Satna. The swine flu hysteria is at an all time high in India thanks to the media frenzy that has created mass paranoia. We saw one newspaper article that advised people not to go outside unless it was necessary. Come off it chaps.On the last night Vishal helped us with our bags throught the streets late at night before we caught a cycle rickshaw to the train station. Nadine gave her new son enough baksheesh (500rupees) so he could take a month long swimming lesson course and learn to swim in The Ganga. Once at the train station it was the usual scattered palava. It was late at night and many bodies were sleeping in every available slice of platform space. Loads of starving beggars too including one kid with emancipated arms and legs that he was swinging around at all angles as he dragged his body around asking for some kindness. The train stations always seem to be magnets for those suffering most. I pulled the 'women-can-go to-the-front-of-any-line-in-India' card and pushed and elbowed me and my backpack in through the scrum of men crowded around the general enquiry booth. It worked a charm and the attendant told me which platform was ours.I helped a nice Russian couple on their honeymoon who were struggling to find their way. You have to be forceful at these times to get on your train. As we sat on our bags being stare beared at on the platform, we helped a Scottish couple when we heard their train being announced at another platform and while this was happening, we obviously missed our own announcement that our own train was in fact departing from another platform. Unaware of this we boarded the train on time on the original platform, found our sleeper beds and settled in for the night. The train left very late after sitting stationery for a long time. We had tickets in general class so there were the usual randoms and chai wallahs walking around all night and a gail force wind blowing in through the open windows. I didn't get much sleep because i was mostly in fear of someone stealing my bag through the window while i slept. Once dawn broke, the train pulled into a station that turned out to be at Allahabad. We had gone the long way round to Satna and there were three guys trying to get into our sleeper beds which they claimed were theirs. They showed us the passenger manifesto that clearly had their names printed next to our seat numbers. What the? How could that be? I told them to take the issue up with the conductor then rolled over and pretended to sleep. One of the guys sat on the end of my sleeper and the other slept on the floor. Later, when the conductor finally appeared it became apparent that it was our mistake of course, we were on the wrong train and had slept in someone elses seat. I apologized to the lads straight away but luckily for us the train we got on was still going to Satna. Lady luck was on our side, we could have ended up anywhere.Once in Satna we took a rickshaw with a guy who was one of many who have asked us about the recent race attacks on Indian students in Australia. This has become a common topic of conversation when we say we are from Australia. It is in the newspaper everyday here and this is fueling the concerns amongst Indians. We hate having to defend Australians because of the actions of a very small group of idiot fools. First question to us is always about cricket or Ricky Pointing then they ask us why Australians don't like Indians and ask us why the students are being attacked. How do we answer that? We are embarassed by this ridiculous, horrendous behaviour going on in our home country and it is terrible for the India and Australia relationship which has always been very good in the past. Bloody ignorant, unconscious, racist people. The bus was the usual drill with the bus activity and sights and roadside action of rural India holding our attention whilst a Muzza look a like bus driver dodged water buffalo and goat traffic jams and weaved us in and out of the traffic of bicycles, autorickshaws, trucks, dogs, people and buses to get us to Khajuraho where we visited the Kamasutra temples. The sculptures on the temples here are said to be the finest in the world, we have to agree, the work is extraordinary and most beautiful. The best temples they were but Khajuraho was the worst place we've visited in India for hassle and annoying men who have no idea how excruciating they are from a Western women's point of view.There were swarms of flies buzzing around everything so i decided to make one of those very suave Aussie cork hats.Traditionally worn by jackaroos and swagmen in the blow-fly infested Australian outback, the cork hat has since become part of the stereotypical representation of the Australian even though i don't know anyone who wears one. The shape and material of a cork hats vary, though typically they are shaped like a slouch hat. Pieces of cork, often shaped as bottle stoppers, are threaded on string as to hang from the brim of the hat. The low density of cork means a number of pieces may hang from a hat without adversely increasing the weight. Movement of the head causes the corks to swing in a swatting motion, thereby discouraging insects from swarming around the wearer's head. It's a great invention and it can also be used for all those Crocodile Hunter fancy dress costumes. That's your friendly fact for today. What's hot? Aussie cork hats. Now i just have to locate a wine shop which is pretty much impossible in rural India. So i guess making a lagerphone (Australian bushband percussion instrument made by nailing beer bottle tops onto a broomstick) out of the question too.There are very few tourists around now so the hotel touts hit us hard and three had even boarded the bus one stop before the town so they could give their spiel and hand out cards in the hope of gaining commission. We managed to pass them off onto the other tourists on board. When we got off we felt sorry for the desperate looking cycle rickshaw guys with no work so paid a guy 10rupees to cart us and our gear 100 metres up the road to the hotels and checked into Zen Hotel, where the advertised zen garden was actually a stagnant cess pit, the boys working there were a little bit too attentive and the owner was a Baba who thought he was the re-incarnation of Osho. We did have a fan though so we could beat the heat and dry our clothes and we scavenged a couple of his OSHO&nbsp;World magazines on the way out which made up for their overpriced pizza. We had done a deal for a room with a television and asked that the staff bring us one so we could watch BBC news and see what is going on in the world. There was a dispute over them giving it to us because they were probably watching cricket on it and didn't want to give it up. Eventually it came and we decided that there was nothing we wanted to watch anyway. Hahaha.We ventured into the street and it wasn't long before we noticed something very strange. There were lots of men and young guys around who all wanted to stalk us and ask us if we wanted to go for chai, talk to them, ride on their motorbikes or walk with them. They were crazy about it and we found them difficult to shake. Not just some of them but all of the men in town, seriously. Everybody else wanted us to give them money or go to their shops. It was the worst harrassment in all of India that we have encountered. At one point there was people stalking us on motorbikes as we walked down the street and also a guy ran after me as i rode on my bicycle keeping up with me and talking as he ran. Constant harassment. We called them the 'Stepford Husbands' after the film the <i>'The Stepford Wives' . Does their close proximity to the Kamasutra temples make them all so desperately horny? It's a mystery and unusual for an Indian town of this size. We had the feeling that a truck full of pornography films from the United States had been delivered to this town by mistake and that the movies had been passed around town so now all that have seen them have absolutely no idea of how to interact with Western women without being completely annoying and overbearing fools. Very bizarre and i would definitely not recommend single white females to visit Khajuraho alone. Get in and get out. Madhouse and quite a shame because the temples were amazing. The town was horrendous.We walked in the rain to the Old Village area where a group of local children were all going completely manic crazy bananas during the space of time before a monsoonal downpour hit hard. They were jumping all over us and dancing and screaming in excitement then cheering when the rain came. I made a nice little movie of them. They all eventually left us so they could go and make mud pies except for one child who decided he was going to be our tour guide at 10rupees for three hours. The 8 year old kid lead us through the donkeys, goats, chickens and buffalos to the temples and also to his 'uncle's' shop who happened to have an interesting antiques gallery out the back of his house. The guy carefully held up every piece in his collection and explained it's usage. He had old henna storage boxes, brass puja cups and chunky ladies anklets amongst his carved statues.The next day it was raining so we ditched yoga and went straight to the temples. It quickly became apparent that there was lots of packaged tour groups visiting the temples, many had flown in from Delhi on quick stop overs. The tourists were a different kind here, most were fresh off the boat and dressed in clothing we found hilarious like safari vests and pastel colours and everybody had a video camera. People mostly skimmed over the artwork and took pictures of themselves in front of the temples, some missed the most interesting pieces. People film things that are still and not moving and i have never been able to work out why they don't just take photographs. We watched the tour group behaviour for a long time which distracted us from looking at the temples, it was all so fascinating and we realize now how difficult it will be for us to return to any kind of normal society back at home, we really are very detached. It was entertaining to watch people trying to deal with the challenging touts and hassle. Are we being mean? The sandstone Kamasutra carvings that decorate the three groups of temples in Khajuraho were built by the clan of the Chandela Rajputs during a century long burst of creative genius that went on from AD950 to 1050, they are absolutely stunning and fascinating to see, beautiful. It is a great mystery as to why they were built here in this isolated area but this helped them be preserved from Muslim invaders. There was huge amounts of labour involved in the exhilarating stone work on the temples and it was all done in 100 years. How and why? Some of the work is hardcore erotic and there have been many theories regarding the sculpturesadorning the facades and interiors of the Khajuraho temples. Some people believe these temples to be centres of tantric mysticism, which regards sex as an important part of human development and the attainment of the Absolute. Others believe that they were constructedas such to lure men and women back to the family and worldly life, which play an important part in Hinduism. I believe they were used as pleasure pavilions for mass royal orgy parties and were built in an isolated place by a playboy who didn't want to be disturbed as he indulged in all his fantasies. Amongst the carvings there are broad-hipped and high breasted nymphs (<i>apsaras) displaying their bodies on wall panels, putting on make-up, washing their hair, playing games, dancing, posing with men and endlessly knotting and unknotting their g-strings. The rest of the carvings depict the everyday life of the common Indian of the time when the carvings were made and various activities of other beings including alot of elephant action. There are also gods, goddesses, dragons, warriors, mythological animals, musicians, potters, farmers and other folk including some hidden gems. I found an otherworldly nymph with pixie ears who came from another dimension, a man having sex with a horse?? and also a cool little piece with a woman pulling on Ganesha's trunk. There was alot to see in the carvings and you had to look closely to find the stories and humour, we spent quite a few hours there and chatted with the guardian of the giant Nande bull statue facing Shiva's temple. The guardian wanted to talk cricket of course and also was very curious as to what the name of Ricky Pointing's wife is, no bloody idea mate, i hate cricket but would never admit that to an Indian. There was access to some of the temples and inside was usually what looked to us to be dancing or sex platforms with giant pillars for pole dancers as well as some little wall niches, balconies and podiums that looked to be spectator's areas and chill out zones.Outside the site there was a funky restaurant with an authentic looking bird's nest tree house table high up in a tree but the seats cost 200 rupees each for the experience so we drank Limcas on the street instead. As well as the lecherous leech men in the main street there were more children who latched onto us pulling at our legs and demanding coins, school pens and chocolate. We ate delicious onion pakora and potato parathas for 15rupees at a rudimentary kitchen called 'all kinds of lassis' in the main street where the chef was a friendly chap and we both agreed the food was up there with the all time best of India. We also spent an hour in a silver and gemstone shop where the owner gave us some good information about the different stones and their values. Nadia bought a beautiful silver and peridot ring.After this we rented bicycles for 30rupees a piece and rode to the Jain temples where we met up with our tour guide kid again and also half the kids in the neighbourhood who followed us. The village people were most friendly with smiles and namastes all round. There was lots of animals and ladies were busy drawing water from wells and carrying it in metal pots stacked high up on the heads. We rode past a ramshackle shop called <i>The Talking Trees where there was a great artist working away with a chisel&nbsp;to shape&nbsp;bits of gnarled, hard wooden roots into figures with tribal faces and many&nbsp;hidden suggestions. I really loved his work and admired the guy's artistic eye which we later found out was enhanced every night as he smokes hash and works to make the pieces appear from the wood. That is why they talk i guess. It's an ancient wood carving tradition and his skills were passed onto him from his grandfather. The wood is rare as it is found underground and only in this particular area, unique souvenirs from the Kamasutra temples. I bought two pieces that were way above my budget so it looks like i'll be eating street samosas for awhile to make up the cash. The guy was well happy to make some money but sad to see his little creations leave, they were all like his children and have lots of personality. I assured him that i would love them and talk to them daily, after all they are talking trees and there's magic in the artist's hands.We stopped in the old village when we came across a group of children sitting on old sheets of X-rays and sliding on their arses down a big mud pile. Once they spotted us it was all on and we were both dragged into having a go at it much to the children's delight. They shrieked and&nbsp; clapped when we made it to the bottom of their small hill as their mothers looked on and laughed from a construction site nearby. The women were busy carrying bowls of dirt and heavy bricks on their heads but stopped work when they heard the commotion at the mud hill, it was a fun time for all. We avoided all the leeches and ate more parathas before holing up in the hotel to escape the nosey staff. Next stop is the&nbsp;more shanti Orchhre where there is an unrenovated palace set into the jungle.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1248257293/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1248257293/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1248257293/tpod.html Sun, 09 Aug 2009 06:26:45 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India

We're still supercharged from the solar eclipse. As well as all the action in the intoxicating backstreets and on the Ganges, there's a whole range of teachings and weird and wonderful courses on offer in Varanasi so we decided to try our hand at a few new skills. This filled in the time&nbsp;when i wasn't&nbsp;doing business with&nbsp;the wonderful family i met who have a small shop and factory with four machinists and who were able to make me many&nbsp;impressive clothing designs to send back to Australia. Nice one. They even&nbsp;printed my Aaaargh!!! pirate t-shirts and the woman of the shop makes us chai and thali lunches, they're all shining gems. I did a bit of other business with jewellery and also have a trusty Baba supplying me with clay chillums that are all the rage in smoker's corners. Possible Swine Flu AttackI&nbsp;was terribly ill in Varanasi for a few days and Nadia had to look after me as i lay in the very hot hotel room (up around 40degrees) with what turned out to be all the swine flu symptoms of weakness, fatigue, fever, cough, sore throat, diarrhea, body aches and runny nose. It was a low point having to lie in the bed all day. We're not sure if it was actual swine flu but it seemed to disappear just as rapidly as it started, very fast. The fever was very high and Varanasi was out of thermometers to gauge it until some chap went somewhere on his motorboke and brought&nbsp;one into the pharmacy for me. The doctor's clinic&nbsp;in Varanasi&nbsp;is basically a hole in the wall with space for six chairs, the doctor treats everyone in the same room in view of all the other patients. He uses medicines and tools that he keeps all jumbled up in a huge pile on his corner table, i was trying to avoid a blood test at all costs. If it was discovered that i had really contracted it then there was also a possibility that we would have been kicked out of town by people chasing us with pitchforks. True story. Since the attack on my system, i've stocked up on Spirulina and Ayurvedic well being tonics to accompany my Chywampresh and Safi intake. Should be bouncing off the ceiling soon.Street FoodThe food options are good here, especially the cuisine on the street however sanitation conditions are poor and it's a bit of a risk endulging, of course we did anyway. Mangoes are hot property and we've&nbsp;still been munching out on the idlies, masala dosas, jalebi, potato patties, malai koftaswashed down with chai after chai after chai.MonkeysGangs of monkeys would make their way onto our rooftop just before sunset everyday when we shout out <i>monkeeeeeyyyyyy time! they&nbsp;create havoc by thieving anything that looks interesting, swinging around in the trees, fighting and eating any food lying around. One day i caught a monkey trying to come in our bedroom door after it had snuck in the roof door then it left a little surprise shit at our doorstep. We've got steel bars up over our balconies off the room but another day whilst i was dozing on the bed i felt as though someone was in the room with me so i opened my eyes and looked around&nbsp;to find that three&nbsp;monkeys were eyeballing me.&nbsp;A mother monkey had&nbsp;pushed her tiny baby in through the gaps in the steel bars so it could sneak around and pilfer our mangoes whilst the dad kept&nbsp;his eyes on me in case i moved.&nbsp;As soon as the robbers were caught in action, the baby was out the window, scooped up into the mother's arms and they were gone. It did make me feel anxious and vulnerable&nbsp;to know the little rascals&nbsp;could get into the room and i was afarid they were after our own Mono Loco.Total solar eclipse movieOne night we went to a movie night at Jyoti turkish coffee cafe where a very sweet Japanese film maker named Kaoru Inoue was showing his unedited footage of the Varanasi Total Solar Eclipse as well as some footage from previous ones. On the eclipse morning the guy had a good position on the ghats as the sun disappeared behind the moon and he managed to capture the&nbsp;emotions of the&nbsp;thousands of pilgrims who were bathing in The Ganges at the time.&nbsp;Some days later&nbsp;we accquired&nbsp;his movie and he gave us some other good information and conversation.Nag Panchami It seems that everyday in the City Of Lord Shiva there is a festival or some kind of celebration of a tradition and one of the more obscure ones happening whilst we were there was called<i> Nag Panchami.&nbsp;The day&nbsp;is dedicated to the worship of <i>Nagas or Snakes. Yay! Snake day! Snakes are worshipped in Hinduism and Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva are closely associated with serpents. Lord Vishnu has the seven-hooded Snake Shesha as his bed and Lord Shiva wears a&nbsp;snake around his neck.&nbsp;On Nag Panchami people draw snakes on their doorways to welcome them and prayers are offered at Naga temples, sacred places with idols of Nagas and at anthills. In some places, people fast from sunrise to sunset. Unmarried women believe that praying to the Nagas will help them in getting good husbands.&nbsp;Milk, betel leaf, betel nut, tender coconuts, turmeric powder, puffed paddy, jaggery, flower bunches and tender leaves of palm and areca trees are offered to please the snakes. On this day many sadhus and&nbsp;snake charmers&nbsp;brought snakes including cobras into&nbsp;the&nbsp;alleyways&nbsp;in baskets and asked people for money. Whilst in a shop two kids cornered us in and threatened to let their snakes loose in the store unless we gave baksheesh. I snapped a couple of photos and dropped him a&nbsp;couple of rupees&nbsp;just to be&nbsp;safe but&nbsp;the cobra escaped anyway and&nbsp;a kid had to strangle it around the neck to&nbsp;catch it. Some of the snakes are drugged or have their mouthes sewn shut and&nbsp;some are force fed milk on this day. Say no to crude snake handling.&nbsp;Astrologists I had hunted around Kathmandu, Nepal&nbsp;trying to find a traditional Tibetan astrologist but never did.&nbsp;Never fear, there were plenty of guys in Varanasi up to the challenge and talking tourists into parting with their dollars. I'm sure there's some real McCoys around but not in the tourist sector.<i>&nbsp;Jyotishasrta- literally the science of light<i> or astrology has been practiced in India for centuries. The Indian system uses palmistry, numerology and the precise position of stars based on both the lunar and solar calendar. The Astrologers in Varanasi are considered extremely authoritative and politicians and businessmen are known to consult them before making any critical decisions.&nbsp;Of course, a traditional Indian marriage can not be arranged until the astrologist matches the&nbsp;horoscope of &nbsp;the bride and&nbsp;groom. Jyotishcharya is&nbsp;based on the Hindu philosophy that one's actions and fortunes are pre-determined by a&nbsp;cosmic design, that design reflects the will of god for you. Astrology helps read&nbsp; the stars in order to understand god's will. We asked around in the good ole kitchen of the Mona Lisa Cafe and before we knew it we were being whisked down the backstreets, down an alleyway to the<i> 'old and famous' <i>House Of Astrology and through a curtain behind which was lurking a so-called famous astrologist. Mr Mystery himself. The guy was sitting on some cushions on a bench seat pretending he was a levitating Maharaja. He was giving three Indian pilgrims sitting opposite him some teachings and dismissed them with a wave of his hand when we walked in the door. The guy automatically assumed we were going to pay his huge fee of 2300rupees for a consultation about our past, present and future lives using our birthdates, hand writing and fingerprints. Nobody earns that much in Varanasi. At the same time as showing us old photographs from the eighties of Goldie Hawn at the dinner table with his colleague to prove he was an astrologer to the stars, he had us fingerprinted and was firing questions at us. I told him we were just coming to meet him initially and started backing out the door. The guy got quite mad, slamming his books shut and acting like he was putting a curse on us, sorry mate, you can keep your bad vibes, delivery not accepted. We left laughing our heads off.&nbsp; My run-ins with the astrologists of Benares didn't end there though.Another day whilst returning from music lessons near the burning bodies ghat, a guy with rotten red teeth latched onto me in the street and it quickly became evident he wanted to tell my fortune too. I fired questions at him before deciding to take him up on his offer, if only for comical reasons and the experience of the street astrologist. We sat out the front of a shop selling rice in bulk and gaudy orange Ganesha statues and talked about philosophy, the planets and the stars whilst Hindi film music blasted from a radio. People kept stopping to praise Ganesha with him, i was surprised to find out that there's a solid Ganesha following here too and some people worship him as their number one deity. I've got a soft spot for Mr Elephant Head, the clearer of obstacles myself because he was the first deity that appeared to me in an Ayahuasca vision and who got me interested in the Hindu gods and goddesses. Then i was mad for Shiva, now i'm going into a Saraswati zone. Anyway, the guy looked over my feet, tongue, teeth, palms and face and made random comments about them. He wrote down some figures and told me some random, general predictions. We also had a staring match where he said we were reading each other's astrology. For the record, he folded first. He gave me some sacred herbs but i wasn't sure what they were for so i crushed them up and put them in my pocket like a true pixie would. He gifted me some mantras and then offered me a rudraksha talisman. I left him with some small baksheesh to keep him in <i>paan for awhile and he had cured me of my desire to ever visit an astrologist again, a win-win situation. I saw him again the following day and he didn't recognize me at all.Music Lessons- Flute and Djembe<i>'Today like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground' - Jelaluddin RumiJust for a change, we've decided to take some music lessons whilst they're available to us at&nbsp; rock bottom prices, about 100rupees an hour one on one. I started with the flute seeing i had started lessons as a child and had been carrying around my beautiful Auroville model for months. i am a closet Jethro Tull for sure. The teacher, Manohar was full power classical Indian, wearing a silk kaftan and had come into the city from his village just to do the class with me. The guy only spoke a little English so we let the music do the talking. We shared a chai in between me trying to huff and puff and blow correctly.Every now and then he would take my hand and blow on the back of it to demonstrate breath pressure. I was having trouble getting the right sounds because i was slouching and not holding the instument tightly. The teacher told me that the flute is yoga, i straightened up and then miraculously the wind from my lips was making the sweet sounds i desired, If the flute is yoga and 'all life is yoga' as it states on a special edition Sri Aurobindo 2 rupees coin that Nads found the other day then it's all connected and i should have another lesson. After this we had lunch and a jam session with a flamboyant Japanese drag queen.Another day we were in for the djembe drumming class. For one hour we were bashing on the drums with the basic base and high beats of:Dis Taka Dis TasDiga Taka Dis TasDis Taka Dis TasDiska Ska Dis TasDis Taka Dis TasTaka Taka Taka Dis TasDis Taka Dis TasDiska Ska Taka Taka Taka..... it kind of gets into your head and it's hard to get it out again. Dis taka dis tas............The teacher had left us alone for a few minutes to practise and a Scottish lady comes running in the music studio and tells us how great we sound and that she was drawn into the room. We nearly fell off our drums laughing but then it turned out she was looking for a yoga teacher and we had a business card from the Yoga centre where we were to attend class the next day. We invited her to join us. We had further djembe lessons and found the drums to be fun to be learning together plus we can practise all the time like when we sit at restaurants tapping on the table and annoying other customers. We went to the school a few times in the evenings when we could use the drums for free sessions and were loving them so much that we even hired the drums for a few days so we could play them on the rooftop of the hotel. The&nbsp;very poor kids that live in the alleyway next to the hotel were well happy with this because they loved to play too, especially one little one who has a mental disability. After the first time we gave them a play on the drum, they started to&nbsp;jump all over us whenever we came in or out asking us for toffees and clapping their hands. We gave them our play time and once we bought them wooden spinning tops. These kids have absolutely nothing and most of them have an illness or diseases of some kind, their heads are shaved because of lice, their teeth are rotten&nbsp;and they have cuts all over them. Their families are large and they all share a very small and dirty living space. They all sleep on the rooftop together and for water they pump it&nbsp;up from the ground and carry it with buckets into their home. It's a hard life for them and the women but they are full of giant smiles and most friendly. Dis taka dis tas........YogaWe've been doing our own Sivananda yoga routine in the mornings on the rooftop with the sparrows but decided to try another style so we found out who the gurus were in Varanasi and did a two hour class with the wife of one of the gurus at their small ashram. The class started out with laughter yoga then combined Ashtanga, Sivananda and Iyenga techniques and Pranayama&nbsp;to make up&nbsp;a fast paced class&nbsp;that was quite a workout and got the prana flowing nicely. Dis taka dis tas........Jewellery Making We saw some of the hand woven, South American style macrame jewellery on display in a shop and decided we would learn to make it with the enterprising young chap who&nbsp;owns the shop. The guy comes from the very large and poor family who live next to our hotel and him and his three brothers&nbsp;are doing&nbsp;very well by&nbsp;learning to speak Japanese and Korean, working as tour guides, running a couple of wooden boats on The Ganges and selling chai. It turns out that he is a new dad too and we later found out that his bride is related to the family i do business with but it is a tragic story because the young couple who are deemed to be from different castes, shunned the arranged marriage rules and married out of love. This means that the young girl was completely cut off from her own family for this action and will never see them again. Cruel. This means for her whole life.&nbsp;The girl's&nbsp;mother is very sad and will never see her newborn grandaughter. It is very difficult to get your head around the whole&nbsp;caste system in India. They are brave for taking a love marriage, all respect.&nbsp;For about three hours we sat and weaved a&nbsp;semi-precious gem into a necklace and were surprised to find that the pieces turned&nbsp;out very nicely. We bought a couple more stones to practise with and continued to visit the guy's shop regularly for&nbsp;tips and pointers.&nbsp;I found one very nice stone that resembled the total solar eclipse.&nbsp;&nbsp;Dis taka dis tas.......Cosmic Forces Are At PlayOther than that we just soaked up and observed the Varanasi life. We took a rickshaw cycle ride around the city and the muslim quarters and wandered around the ghats and explored temples,&nbsp;joked around&nbsp;with locals and shopped&nbsp;plus we spent alot of time in the famous Mona Lisa Cafe with all the other clowns and random characters that loiter around. We bought a couple of pieces of&nbsp;Varanasi&nbsp;silk which&nbsp;is prized the world over. Varanasi is famous for its silk weaving cottage industry and entire families are&nbsp;involved in this creative work.&nbsp;There were also some great wooden toys and&nbsp;bangles to be admired. I'm obsessed with the Taj Mahal and even though we are yet to visit it i've been stocking up on Taj souvenirs including a funky silk cushion cover.&nbsp;The 8 year old kid who sold it to me&nbsp;was looking after the shop while his dad went to the market, he was a beautiful, friendly kid with a pure and clean aura and shining eyes and was busy telling me about all his favourite foods. He&nbsp;mentioned that he '<i>too <i>much' liked chocolate&nbsp;so we hid a Dairy Milk chocolate bar under&nbsp;the cushion covers for him to find then pretended it had magically appeared.We did the afternoon walk down to the burning ghats&nbsp;but didn't linger too long because there was a darker vibe down there with less friendly people, a few shady characters hassling us and numerous&nbsp;hash pushers who wouldn't take no for an answer. The word&nbsp;HASH was being grumbled to us on every corner and we always had a couple of leech blokes hanging off us asking us if we wanted smoke. Even when we told them that we didn't smoke they would follow us around asking ridiculous questions and trying to show us their product. Say no to hash leeches. We saw&nbsp;a dead body being carried on a bamboo stretcher through the backstreets on it's way to be burned, the doms (outcasts) carrying it were chanting, it's a very relaxed approach to a funeral but also very real. The highlight of the day was finding a wicked new Joker playing card for my collection. We went for a beverage on the rooftop at Shanti guesthouse, a popular backpackers joint where the young crowd and all the staff were&nbsp;stoned. We managed to&nbsp;meet&nbsp;two Spanish lads for a great conversation. These guys were hard core mountain climbers and had just&nbsp;finished a climbing&nbsp;expedition&nbsp;in Pakistan on one of the&nbsp;highest mountains in the world. Their team of 4 people&nbsp;had taken 62 porters and spent 7000 Euros each for permits in an attempt to summit, unfortunately they&nbsp;couldn't make the top&nbsp;but were happy with their&nbsp;journey. They told us of the mystical pull of the mountains that has them risking their lives to climb them, they were interesting chaps. We walked home through all the little alleyways wih their shrines, temples and shops magically shining with twinkling lights to light our path.&nbsp;As well as the business items,&nbsp;we had quite a few&nbsp;garments made by the tailors here who seem to be experts in their work.&nbsp;Most of them can find your fabric and knock up a piece in a couple of hours. I'll really miss having clothing custom made when i leave India.There's a litter of four cute, new puppies in the street that we've been feeding biscuits to and we'll miss them when we leave because they are so vulnerable and weak and we have often stopped to check on them. One day at the ghats we saw the horrendous sight of a puppy that was not quite dead yet but had all it's intestines hanging out of it's body&nbsp;and was lying motionless on the ground but still breathing, a victim of a motorbike hit in the narrow alleyways. We wondered for awhile about how we could kill it and end it's suffering but didn't know how to deal with it. Did we ask someone to do it, put it's little body in the Ganga to drown it or what? We just weren't sure what to do and neither was anyone else because we saw it later still lyimg there. We should have acted but didn't want to offend anyone. We'll also miss Aklihesh and Assis from Jyoti Dresses who i've done all the business with, they are our little family.dis taka dis tas......My 6 month old Canon digital compact camera has stalled, the lens is well gone and the motor that runs it is making little buzzing noises so we took it to a camera doctor who ensured me that it was full of dust, fair call because i've used it everyday in the dirty and dusty streets of India. We have bought a new one that we hope is not a copy just to be on the safe side and then had the oldie repaired too. There's alot of pimp my camera going on in these parts and it's very difficult to know if you are getting the real deal or not.Whilst waiting for the camera doctor&nbsp;i sat and watched a street side renegade dentist. The guy was basically sitting in a gutter with his utensils and tools laid out all around him including torturous looking metal mouth openers and heavy duty pliers for yanking teeth out. He also had a little&nbsp;food cooker burner for lighting a fire and sterilising his pots,&nbsp;some syringes sitting around and some old dentures and moulding clay that he makes into new gums for people's teeth. A very scary trip to the dentist when you are visiting him. I also watched a very skinny, starving woman who was quite aged and naked except for a thin sari whcih kept falling off her as she shuffled along the road all huddled up and using flip flops on her hands to walk. The woman made it about 15 metres, stopping every now and then to hold out her alms bucket for money and then she was exhausted. A human being suffering, this woman was in very poor shape. Later i took her some food, kissed her hand&nbsp;and left her a 100 rupees note, enough to buy about 15 small meals.On one of our last nights here there was a fireworks&nbsp;display that started to light up the sky right outside our room at 3am and continued&nbsp;until the sun came up, we're not sure why.There is a farmer who lives below us and milks dairy cows in his house at night time. In the morning he becomes&nbsp;a baby specialist doctor and&nbsp;many ladies line up&nbsp;with their babies&nbsp;in his cow milking courtyard to see him, they take a number and wait all day with crying little ones that we can hear from our room.The whole city has a magnificent energy, cosmic forces are at play. Afternoons on the ghats are a wonderful magical time to be on the Ganges, there's a purifying and uplifting energy there as was spending time on the rooftop when the birds and kites would fill the sky. Living in Varanasi amongst the people you start to see more and more, there's glimpses of things that are so random that you're not sure if you saw them or not. Cows are in abundance here. Cows sleep in houses, come into restaurants and even into the internet cafe. I Love it. I Love cows.&nbsp;Say yes&nbsp;to cows, except when they accidentally stand on our&nbsp;puppies in the street. Say yes to Varanasi, i am sure i will find my way back here again, it feels way too much like my home and there's many lessons to be learned here.The effects of the heat&nbsp;are not so intense once you acclimatize but soon we're heading for the&nbsp;colder&nbsp;Indian Himalayas via my beloved Taj Mahal and a couple of other stop overs.Swine flu is now running rampant in India so it was a likely scenario that i did in fact contract it earlier.Unfortunately, i have given in and got&nbsp;a pair of those ugly&nbsp;Crocs shoes from the shop i do business with. My flip flops were just not cutting it with the amount of cow shit in Varanasi. Not only that but my deluxe pair feature stick on charms in flower and mushroom design. Sad, very sad but bloody well comfortable to wear and they don't flick mud up the back of your kurta when it's raining and you step in puddles. I'm sorry to admit it but what's hot?CROCS are hot. Crocs rule alrightDis taka did tasdiga taka dis tas....................
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247844920/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247844920/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247844920/tpod.html Fri, 07 Aug 2009 05:40:58 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Bhaktapur, Nepal

We had a few days to kill before we recieved our second six month visa for India which we had arranged from Kathmandu. So, we joined the delightful Stefano, an Italian traveller who was heading our way in a taxi to 'The Tantric City' of Bhaktapur, the most timeless and traditionally intact town&nbsp;in the Kathmandu Valley and where we could see Newari people going about their daily lives in this medievil and modern open air museum. The Newar people are the indigenous people of Nepal's Kathmandu Valley, they&nbsp;are a linguistic community with Tibeto-Burman and Indo race, bound together by a common language.Bhaktapur is&nbsp;a place of vibrant culture and centuries-old traditions&nbsp;are still in action as people were busy making their simple livelihoods, very fascinating to observe. Also, it was a welcome relief to find that traffic has been kept out of the main part of town making for a pleasant atmosphere. Bhaktapur's Durbar Square has some interesting structures still standing but many of the original temples and buildings were destroyed in the 1934 earthquake. There's some giant stone lion statues and also garlanded statues of Bhairab and Ugrachandi. The statues date from 1701 and it's said that the unfortunate sculptur had his hands cut off afterwards to prevent him from duplicating his masterpieces. There is a colomn of&nbsp;King Bhupatindra Malla who had a great influence on the art and architecture of the town and he is seated with folded arms and facing the Golden&nbsp;Gate. The interesting Golden Gate or Sun Dhoka&nbsp;is the entrance to the main royal palace which is heavily guarded and access to us was denied. The gate has some nice work with a garuda, serpents and the goddess Taleju Bhawani being shown.Nadine braved the street food carts and snacked on pani puri which is a popular snack for daytime. The moustachi-oed vendor takes a puffy hollowed crispy fried shell of a ball made from wheat flour and semolina and pokes a hole into it with his feral dirty fingernail&nbsp;then he shoves his whole hand&nbsp;and the ball into a watery mixture of tamarind, chili, chaat masala , potato, onion and chickpeas and gives it to you on a dirty plate after which you throw the whole ball in your mouth in one go, no biting. Nadia and every school girl within ten metres of the cart couldn't get enough of them. The bhuja was also popular here. This bhuja was tangy and sour and was comprised of puffed rice, dozens of spices, crushed peppers, red chillies, sour vinegar, onions, dried peas, tomatoes and&nbsp;lemon all poured into a jug and mixed up with a spoon then served ina&nbsp; newspaper cone and&nbsp;shoved into your mouth&nbsp;with a rectangle of cardboard. We took a very slow walking tour past buildings of architectural beauty, shrines, water tanks and wells and through the cobblestoned sidestreets that link a string of temples, courtyards and monumental squares. We stopped to admire details and bits of art that seemed to be&nbsp;everywhere carved into windows, walls and doors. We met lots of kids including a&nbsp;trio of three with a giant bicycle who had learned to work the tourists quite well by putting on a convincing charm then trying to drag you off to thangka painting shops&nbsp;later. There were so many kids around and cries of 'school pen' or 'chocolate' followed us wherever we went being hollered at us from doorways and also from windows above. There was also alot of&nbsp;very elderly residents who seemed to blend in with the antique surroundings.&nbsp;Ladies were sitting around in groups knitting the colourful beanies that they sell in the tourist market in Thamel and the old-timer men were sitting around in pilgrim's shelters playing ludo, chess or cards. Some ladies were spinning wool or weaving on handlooms. Goats, ducks, chickens, cows and pigs had free roaming space wherever they wished to go. Grain and rice was&nbsp;laid out on the ground and corn cobs and strings of garlic were hanging from rooftops to dry in the sun.&nbsp;People popped out of windows above us to say hello and watch us as we past and school children waved at us from inside their classrooms. We stopped to watch children playing a game of marbles, to see people fetching wtaer from wells&nbsp;and also to admire some locally made puppets and paper. In one courtyard there were children hitting old bicycle tyres with bamboo to roll them along and also a couple of kids playing table tennis.We walked through a potter's square where a guy was working a wheel and workers were sorting clay pots in various stages of completion as they&nbsp;dried in the sun next to a Ganesh shrine under a pipal tree. The strong communities of potters, woodcarvers and weavers produce work of outstanding craftmanship. We wandered around Tachpal Tole square where the Dattatreya temple built in 1427 still stands. The temple is said to have been built using the timber from a single tree and there is some erotic tantric scenes carved on the side of it's base. The entrance is guarded by two rather comical looking malla wrestlers. There is an old Hindu monastery that has a 15th century window with carvings of a peacock and it&nbsp;is said to be the finest window in the valley. We shared a chai served by a robust child who had the arrogance of a working man, this is common in India with children who work froma&nbsp; young age, they are like young men in children's bodies. We ventured through the maze of streets to the ghats on the Hanumante River where there was a cluster of Shiva linghams. We followed some chanting into a temple where a group of Hare Krishnas were playing instruments and singing to fill the air with magic and we were also offered red tikka dots and were invited to make an offering. We shared a beverage and an interesting chat with Stefano at the Cafe Nyatapola, a cafe in a temple on Taumadhi Tole square, Stefano was leaving back to Kathmandu and we were staying the night at Shanti guesthouse where we had views right over the Durbar Square and were up amongst the temple tops. I ate some of the famous <i>juju dhau 'King Of Curds' yoghurt for dinner, a curd that is only produced in Bhaktapur and normally served in little clay bowls. The next day we were happy to see the rain gone and the sun come out as well as a beautiful early morning sky of wispy whisked up clouds. We woke to the sounds of the giant Taleju Bell ringing and Nepalese folk music drifting to us from nearby shops. I could see ladies taking offering plates of food and flowers to the temples for the first puja of the day. We made our way back&nbsp;to&nbsp;our favourite Taumadhi Tole with the 30metre high Nyatapola Temple, the highest one in Nepal and worthy of a jump for joy. We climbed to a nearby rooftop cafe to glimpse the snowy peaks of the Himalayas peaking through the clouds&nbsp;behind.The stairway leading up to the temple is most impressive being flanked by guardians on every level. There's wrestlers, elephants, lions, griffins and goddesses and inside the temple is a hidden deity of a tantric goddess to whom the temple is dedicated. There's some beautiful brass bells that hang from the rooftops of the temples and i managed to purchase an a couple of what i think are authentic ones from a curios shop on the square. I also scored a necklace made form the old Indian coins.We made one last stop at the 'Erotic Elephants' temple which has some weathered old carvings of copulating animals including elephants in the missionary position with their trunks entwined in pleasure. There were very few tourists around and i must say i felt a little bit&nbsp;strange stalking around the temple looking for carvings of animals having&nbsp;sex.&nbsp;We wandered around before taking a mini bus back to Kathmandu. When we went to get off the bus, it braked suddenly and we all nearly fell over. In the hustle of the action a guy caught Nadine and stopped her from falling but also took the opportunity to help himself to her money and new&nbsp;visa card which was in a zip lock bag in her shoulder bag. Luckily, she realised immediately that it was missing and i was lucky enough to catch the guy who took it stuffing it into his shirt as we all sprawled out onto the busy peak hour sidewalk. Very quickly&nbsp;and to his surprise i reached forward and grabbed it back from him then shook my red Spiderman umbrella at him whilst yelling something like <i>'you're a thief, you don't steal other people's money' which caused a bit of a scene and the guy was completely embarassed in public as everybody stared to see if the&nbsp;crazy tourist was going to attack&nbsp;the guy with her umbrella. I Loved it. Classic. Maybe he won't steal again and maybe Nadia will be more careful with her money. We bought some of the sweet cakes on the way home and i tried unsuccessfully to buy a Nepalese bra.Nadia's Birkos are now gone, donated to a taxi driver, they're no good in monsoons. We'll miss you Birkos.We had been in Nepal with the right attitude, a spirit of curiosity&nbsp;and open hearts and we had been rewarded with a rich experience of the people of the Himalayas and the valley but were also excited to be going back to our beloved Mother India tomorrow.Rest In Peace BirkenstocksAnd now for Kid's Corner:Lame Elephant Jokes Of The DayWhat cheers you up when you are sick?A Get Wellephant cardWhy don't elephants ride bikes?They don't have a thumb to ring the bell.If you see an elephant in your car, what time is it?Time to get a new car. What did the grape say to the elephant?Nothing, grapes can't talk. Why did the elephant cross the road?To squash the chicken on the other side!Why do elephants paint their toenails red?So they can hide in a strawberry patch. What time is it when ten elephants are chasing you?Ten after one!and lamest joke of the day:What game do elephants like to play most?Squash.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247836449/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247836449/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247836449/tpod.html Fri, 07 Aug 2009 05:31:14 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Gorakhpur, Uttar Pradesh, India

For our last night in Nepaland in honour of Omar and Tanja the marmouts,&nbsp;we went out to a renovated house for a 12 course traditional Newari dinner that turned out to be a glorified dhaal bhaat with traditional dancers twirling around with pots on their heads. The waiters were all snobs and when we left we got into an arguement with&nbsp;all 20 cycle rickshaw drivers&nbsp;who were waiting out the front for the night to end. Nice one. We'll definitely miss going to the dhaal bhaat though.We had a superb overland cross from Nepal back into India where we ill spend another five months. The border crossing adventure from Kathmandu, Nepal to Varanasi, India began at 6am when i went in search of plastic tarps, did a three times around the bus Reiki protection walk then us, bleary eyed blokes high on morning chai, alot of new colour televisions and a few dead chickens boarded a paddock basher of a mini bus that was decorated with standard issue Cheech and Chong UV flouro pom poms, heart shaped tail lights and had images of Shiva plastered all over it. I'm sure the quality decor and 'Om namah shivayas' made up for the tyres with no tread that would take us screeching around blind corners over sheer cliff drop offs, swerving around on-coming buses and big rigs and dodging the usual buffalo, cows, goats and rogue chickens as we&nbsp;bumped and jumped&nbsp;our way towards the Sunauli border at ridiculous speed. The Nepalese roads are crap, full of potholes, often blocked by strikes and too narrow for traffic to pass each other plus everybody sits on there horns.&nbsp;Luckily, this first leg we had a free run through and no video player which meant no&nbsp;wailing Bollywood bullshit. I had asked the driver to get some plastic sheeting for our bags on the roof and was very surprised when he pulled out the goods when it started to monsoon rain yaks and yetis halfway into the journey. Nice one fellow. Bus vendors were out in full force flogging off underwear, vitamins, made somewhere in Asia faux branded sunglasses, World Wrestling Federation t-shirts&nbsp;and gold bling watches that only rappers would seriously wear. There was lots of daytime roadside action with the highlight being the open air-lay out a plastic tarpaulin-massacre a goat and hack it up into pieces- weigh the pieces&nbsp;and sell&nbsp;to punters-roadside&nbsp;butcher shops of torture. Goat torture is popular here and sometimes done just for ridiculous Hindu religious ceremony purpose. Blah, sick, feral. Beggars did the bus rounds along with a sadhu who tried to put red tikka dots on&nbsp;our foreheads then sprinkle flowers&nbsp;on the tops of&nbsp;our heads as a protection blessing. The guy was quite forceful and we had to cover our heads with our scarves to protect&nbsp;ourselves from being tikka-ed and flowered. Other passengers weren't so lucky and we entertained ourselves by watching a fresh off the boat German tourist be blessed. The best part of the first bus journey was the presence of a crew of Nepalese tranvestites, their boyfriends and friends who were returning to their small, rural village after attending what they told us was a convention for gay, lesbian and transgenders in Kathmandu City. This crew were flamboyant drama all the way wearing saris, jewellery, handbags, make up in 45degree heat,&nbsp;the works and caused hilarious scenes at all the bus stops, i even had to fight the trannies for the female toilet at one stop. Most of the Nepalese people didn't know what to make of them and were quite shocked and curious at the group who are a definite minority in these parts. I wasn't sure if some of them were men becoming women or women becoming men.We made it to the border in record time and were deposited at Bairawa on the Nepal side. We hired two matchstick-legged cycle rickshaw guys to take us and our bags to the Nepalese immigration post then dished out extra baksheesh because they were sweating like crazy in the scorching sun. Usually this is how it goes with these guys, we bargain for a reasonable fare then as they start riding we start feeling for them and the difficult&nbsp;job they do so we keep adding to the price we had agreed on and end up paying way too much. These guys need the money more than the taxi guys though so we say support it even if it makes us feel a little bit uncomfortable to be cycled around like fat, white, wealthy western queens in chariots. Stamp out, a bit of small talk and we were out&nbsp;easy, my visa expired today so we were out in the nick of time. As we walked towards the gates at Sunauli that say <i>'Welcome To India' a few wild pigs&nbsp;ran squealing&nbsp;across the road in front of the&nbsp;gates to greet us in the most Indian way and the scene beyond them was filled with Indians&nbsp;squatting on the floor, money changers, street food vendors, sacred cows, rickshaw drivers, buses,&nbsp;chickens, bicycles, flashes of saris, fruits and vegetables, veiled women and colour, so much colour. Yes, i was home and felt relieved to be back in the land of chaos and no rules. It was bloody well hot, people's cariacature faces were melting under their turbans. We were keen to hop a bus straight on to&nbsp;Gorakhpur in the hope of catching a train to Varanasi the next morning. Good karma was playing out as we made a good split second decision to be lead by some hustle bustle bus touts to their private bus instead of taking the usual choice of a government bus which costs a little less but makes more stops. The choice turned out to be a potential life saver. We were squished into two of the last remaining seats at the back of the bus and sat for half an hour in the sun with Bollywood music video bollocks screeching out from the TV at the front. The same clip on repeat and nobody cares. We watched and cursed as the government bus took off and left us sitting in the dust but later praised the rig we chose because about twenty minutes down the road after we had departed, there sat the government bus all smashed up at the back, some twisted wreckage, definite injuries to all those at the back and glass all over the road, a terrible crash and we would have been amongst the wounded had we been sitting in the same positions in that bus. Sliding doors. Om namah shivaya! Om mani padme hum! Hare Krishna Hare Rama! thank-you we are alive. The road was again quite crap and we had another incident when overtaking a truck, our driver had to swerve to avoid hitting some muslims on bicycles and scraped the side of the truck with a mighty bang and&nbsp;broke off&nbsp;the truck driver's side mirror as we went by. If the guy on our back seat had any limbs outside the window at the time they would have been gone too. lucky duck duck he was. Nobody reacted, not even the guy who nearly lost his arm, nobody stopped to check if anyone was okay, we just drove on, just another moment in the daily Indian life.We checked into the cess pit Ellora Hotel where faulty towers staff annoyed us every five minutes knocking on our door and i made a bee-line straight for the malai kofta and paratha, Nadia got on the beers. A strange thing happened in the middle of the night, we both woke up at the same time, the fan was on full power and it was like a tornado in our room with the wind churned up from the blades splashing terrifying shadows all over the room. Nadine felt something nibble on her big toe then i did too. we both agreed it was a mouse but couldn't hear it moving around, silent mouse. We lay in the beds awhile then i felt a definite nibbling feeling on my thumb like a fish would nibble on your flesh. We jumped out of bed in a flash and turned on all the lights, jumped on the beds like crazy women and yelled our heads off whilst trashing the hotel room. We blocked up any holes that could give access to the room then went back to a good, incident free sleep. We never saw a rodent. Phantom&nbsp;rodent ghosts. We were woken the next morning at about 6am by 500 military persons marching and playing trumpets on an oval park behind our hotel so we were up and on the street enjoying a chai at the crack of dawn whilst every man and his dog did the stare bear gawk at us and women rubber-necked as they all watched the riveting entertainment show of two white westerner girls drinking chai. we had forgotten that we were treated like movie stars in this country. The train station entrance was rank and stank of urine as usual. Beggars were huddled up sleeping or squatting in the filth on the ground, ladies picked lice from their children's hair, mutilated street canines&nbsp;scratched at scabs, people were starting little fires on the ground and life was beginning for the day as train travellers moved around with their luggage. Vendors were already at work on the platforms selling newspapers and there were countless chai wallahs hollering and swinging teapots of steaming brew. I watched a group of organised Shiva worshipping pilgrims as they moved around wearing matching orange robes, bandannas and sarongs and carrying wooden staffs with plastic Shivas, nande bulls, brass serpents, bells, plastic flowers, begging bowls, tinsel and red velvet fabric attached. Nadine was in the scrum of the ticket lines pushing and elbowing Indians out of the was as they pushed in as she tried to find out which platform our Varanasi bound &nbsp;train was leaving from. This simple task took 45 minutes and we made it by the skin of our teeth onto our sleeper compartment before the train took off down the tracks.We hauled our packs and ourselves onto the top deck of the three teirs and settled in for the journey. A guy climbed up onto the&nbsp;bunk opposite me and pretended to make a phone call on his mobile phone but was actually taking 'wank shots' (photos) of me. His juvenile mates below were sniggering and laughing and offering him&nbsp;money to do it, i was onto them and moved away. This is what you get for travelling on the cheaper train ticket. I was in and out of sleep but heard an all mighty roar when we stopped at one of the stations and 7000, yes 7000 young, wanna-be Indian&nbsp;army recruits tried to board the train at the same time.&nbsp;We later found out that these guys, all aged between 20 and 25&nbsp;were&nbsp;from three rural villages and were on their way to be&nbsp;screened for recruitment and training in the army.&nbsp;They were well excited, laughing and yelling and fighting each other for every available space on the train. I pretended to be asleep and held my bunk for about an hour whilst they poked my feet and tried to get me up for a chat. There were about 25 of them in a space that usually takes 10. Eventually three of them took over my space and i was up and out to share Nadine's bunk. Well, what a flurry it stirred up when i was spotted by the rest of them. All of a sudden there were a couple of hundred young, innocent boys very interested in us, all flirting, smiling, waving&nbsp;and trying to get up the nerve to speak English with us. Many took photos on their mobile phones and a few came by to meet us by shaking our hands. Of course there was a brave spokesperson of the group who shouted loud questions at us so all the train could hear, what is your occupation and qulaification? do you like cricket? are you married? why not? where are you going? etc etc blah blah blah. It was the perfect time to pull out the old Cher wig, leotard and fishnets and belt out a bit of <i>'if i could turn back time' An older&nbsp;fighter pilot travelling with his body guard?? translated all the questions being fired at us. The body guard wanted to listen to my ipod and then try my set of rudraksha beads on which he forgot to give me back.These are the beads i've dunked in every sacred river, lake and pond&nbsp;and carried around all the holy pilgrimage places so i wasn't too happy to let them go but did and surrendered them to him as a blessing. Why fly when you can take the adventurous path? Say yes to overland buses.We had made it to Varanasi and i was a child returned home to Mother India. Joy.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247493470/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247493470/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/inoursuitcase/freedom_07-08/1247493470/tpod.html Fri, 07 Aug 2009 02:07:49 -0400 You, Me And A Crazy Monkey.....Kate and Nadine´s freedom journey around the world

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Patan, Nepal

We had decided it was time to get out&nbsp;and meet&nbsp;the Nepalese city people to see how they live in comparison to the mountain folk. We did a number of walks where we rambled around the streets of Kathmandu to see what we could find and usually ended up in obscure places with no idea of where we were. We walked south of Thamel towards Durbar Square through the alley of Tibetan Buddhism shops selling silk brocades and prayer flags, busy streets with markets, houses with intricate wood-worked balconies and active temples and shrines that blend into the street life alongside shops and businesses. There's pieces of antique stone work and statues lying around everywhere throughout the city with people drying laundry and in one case i saw someone using an old, engraved stone tablet as a parking measure for their scooter. There were lots of doorways and archways&nbsp;that lead into courtyards where there were shrines or temples and architecture that told stories of the past. In the jewellery street we chatted with the glass bangle vendors and watched as men threaded tiny glass beads onto necklaces that they held with their toes and bought some bindis and some of the sparkling metal bangles that the Nepalese ladies wear for parties. We&nbsp;stopped to peer down alleyways and through openings that lead into large spaces where all kinds of&nbsp;traditional work was in action&nbsp;and admired the elaborate&nbsp;art work&nbsp;that seemed to be everywhere you glanced.&nbsp;In small nooks and crannies and on sidewalks there was dried peas and lentils being gambled in games of Ludo, cards and chess being played by men squatting around in circles, oblivious to the world outside their current game. We visited the toothache god which is basically a lump of wood that people make offerings of coins to before they visit the dentist. We met cotton workers and&nbsp;met five children smoking a joint in a cycle rickshaw as well as many other people on the street going about their lives like the motorbike mechanics, the pavement sewing machinists and barbers, the corner chai wallah's shop&nbsp;and the wooden drum artisans.Cartloads of anything and everything were being pushed through the streets and everything else was being carried in rickshaws or on people's backs or their heads. The shopfronts were equally as interesting with all kinds of random business including one shop displaying used dentures. The trading day was in full swing with people haggling over things like veggies, saris, shoes, pots, gold plated jewellery, imported Asian crap, brass, copper&nbsp;and plastic brooms while fresh momos were brewing away in&nbsp;giant steel pots that spread clouds of steam into the street, tempting sweets floated in sticky syrup and a whole myriad of smells like spices,&nbsp;cloves&nbsp;and incense mixed with the pollution to choke the air in a rich Eau de Kathmandu. The pollution is so hardcore that many people wear face masks to protect their lungs from exposure. All in all, a nice sensory experience that can't really be put into words. There was monsoonal yak and yeti rain so we had to haggle with an umbrella vendor for 15 minutes to score two rigs which fell apart 15 minutes after that. Durbar (Palace) Square, the heart of the old city&nbsp;was once the home of Nepal's kings so the traditional&nbsp;architecture is an impressive mix here although some of it has been re-built since the 1934 earthquake. Tourists are supposed to pay a hefty&nbsp;admission fee to walk around here but we managed to dodge it each time we visited by each entering individually from the Freak Street side and doing a we-own-the-place, fast paced walk, swinging our shoulder bags&nbsp;and looking straight ahead as we confidently strided past the ticketing guards and were in with a grin. They collect enough money from the hordes of packaged tour groups who pay enough for all of us. We sat around on the terraced steps of the triple roofed Maju Deval Shiva temple and watched the activity of the square then wandered around admiring the other temples which looked diffirent from every angle before finding a rooftop vantage point. Amongst much terror and screaming from the children themselves, pilgrims pushed their children onto us so we could shake their little trembling hands and give them a '<i>namaste'. Getting your children blessed by a foreigner is all the rage and this happened time after time. Taking sly mobile phone wank shots of us was also popular, we are so very beautiful, you can't blame them. The Jagaannath Temple was interesting with erotic tantric&nbsp;scenes carved into the wooden roof struts, some of them&nbsp;medievil and rather&nbsp;exotic. Taleju Temple was the most magnificent to look at with a gothic looking entrance and standing on a 12 stage plinth, reaching more than 35 metres high, access denied.Another interesting building is the Kumari Bahal which is where Nepal's current living goddess (the <i>kumari) resides. From&nbsp;the beginning of time&nbsp;the practice of worshipping an ordinary pre-pubescent girl as a source of supreme power has been an integral part of both Hinduism and Buddhism, a tradition which continues even to this day virtually in every household. They call this girl Kumari Devi and worship her on all the religious occasions. The young kumari gets a fairly raw deal in life though. The selection of the living goddess is quite an interesting one, it's a highly elaborate tantric ritual. Eligible girls are Buddhists from the Newar Shakya caste of silver and goldsmiths and aged between 4 and 7 years. She must be in excellent health, never have shed blood or been afflicted by any diseases, be without blemish and must not have yet lost any teeth. Her hair and eyes should be very black, she should have dainty hands and feet, small and well-recessed sexual organs and a soft voice. The girl is also observed for signs of serenity and fearlessness (after all, she is to be the vessel of the fierce goddess Durga) and her horoscope is examined to see if it compliments the Kings.Once chosen, she must undergo yet more rigorous tests to ensure that she indeed possesses the qualities necessary to be the living vessel of Durga. Her greatest test is the barbaric night when&nbsp;108 buffaloes and goats are sacrificed to the fierce goddess Kali. The young candidate is taken into the Taleju temple and released into the courtyard, where the severed heads of the animals are illuminated by candlelight and masked men are dancing about making scary noises. The boogymen? If the candidate truly possesses the qualities of Taleju, she shows no fear during this experience. If she does, another candidate is brought in to attempt the same thing. As a final test, the living goddess must spend a night alone in a room among the heads of ritually slaughtered goats and buffaloes without showing fear. After passing all other tests, the final test is that she must be able to pick out the personal belongings of the previous Kumari from an assortment of things laid out before her. If she is able to do so, there is no remaining doubt that she is the chosen one. Having passed all the tests, the child will stay in almost complete isolation at the temple for years and paraded through the streets of the city once a year on a three tiered chariot.&nbsp;The girl&nbsp;will be allowed to return to her family only at the onset of menstruation or if she accidentally injures herself and bleeds and&nbsp; a new goddess will be named to replace her. The old one is tossed out of the castle as&nbsp;a normal mortal with one gold coin and a piece of red cloth. Harsh and a little bit sad.We met a crew of three&nbsp;fake orange clad sadhus who were eleborately decorated with the usual face paint, peacock feathers and&nbsp;rudraksha and who were on the prowl for baksheesh. One of them forced a marigold flower onto my head. We snapped off a couple of funny photos with them, tried on their dreadlocks&nbsp;and had a hilariously funny conversation before they tried to steal our new umbrellas and my shoes and asked us for 200 rupees. We gave them 10.&nbsp;It seems that the&nbsp;longer the dreadlocks, the more baksheesh they ask for. I love these guys. Then, i ran into a huge flock of resting pigeons that took flight and attacked a group of tourists causing the fancy dress party sadhus to fall off their perches with laughter. That, or they had just smoked another chillum. Om Namah shivaya me off! My newly acquired Spiderman umbrella seemed to be the cause of us attracting more hassle and tout leeches than ever before.We were keen to get our freak on so ventured down Jochne St which was given the name Freak Street in the late 60's early 70's when it was the hub of hippy activity and the gathering place for all the weird and wonderful travelling freaks, those in search of spiritual enlightenment and cheap dope, a bit like Haight Ashbury Street in San Francisco. We were on the hunt for signs of the former days there and found the area to still have a bit of a funky vibe, it still has&nbsp;a bit of an edge.&nbsp;Looking for&nbsp;a Freak St experience, we ate at the old Kumari Restaurant which has some of the mellowness from the former days and is like a little crooked house, the roof there has kind of caved in. We ate soybean and mushroom curd and&nbsp;drank Teem soda water from glass bottles while listening to the Beatles on an old stereo, it wasn't all that freaky but a surreal experience none the less. Say yes to flying your freak flag!We went looking for some antique firetrucks so we could get a snap of them for Jodie &amp; Wicks but ended up walking past them many times before the armed with shotgun fire man lads let us into their den so we could roam around trying on the old helmets and checking out the rigs. Classic.We made friends with a tiger balm seller and made a ghee candle offering to a statue beofre taking off in a cycle rickshaw to&nbsp;buy some of the beautiful&nbsp;copper and gold&nbsp;statues of the Buddha in Patan (Lalitpur-The City Of Beauty). The cycle driver ripped us off by taking us to the wrong place so we had to catch a mini bus to get there which was quite good because i had a drive of it and a hilarious woman got on board with a giant pile of coloured wool. Once there we did a walking tour and spent quite alot of time at the Hiranya Varna Mahaa Vihar, a&nbsp;Buddhist temple known locally as Golden Temple, a beautiful place with a statue of Sakyamuni inside it's main shrine. The temple is richly decorated with a golden roof and ornate bell-shaped top. There were little surprises of artwork and carvings everywhere to be found and i was most fond of the elephant maharaja statues guarding ther entrance and the four monkeys in the courtyard.Patan's Durbar Square had a large cluster of&nbsp; unique temples&nbsp;that&nbsp;were&nbsp;extremely beautiful to walk amongst. Nadine did business with a metalworker&nbsp;and purchased two&nbsp;exquisite Buddha statues of the highest quality being hand cast by the artisan himself using a&nbsp;unique technique called "Lost Wax Method". As the name suggests, the principal rule of this method of casting is: preparing a wax model, covering it with varieties of clay, heating the piece so that the wax melts, extracting the liquid wax so that cavity is created, pouring melted metal into the cavity, and letting it to cool so that the original wax model is translated into the metal image of Compassion Buddha. But, unlike the simplicity of the rule, getting a perfect cast is a very complicated job. A lot of care is needed for preparing raw wax to the final stage of gilding. Roughly, the whole process of making the metal statues&nbsp;is described below:

INITIAL WAX CASTING The bee wax is melted in a pot and shale powder is mixed with the bee wax so as to make it more tensile. The wax is molded into a rough shape of Compassion Buddha by hand and all the parts of a body, ornaments, etc. are gradually added. Thus, finally a wax model of the image is ready.

COVER THE WAX MOLD WITH MUDThe wax mold of Compassion Buddha so created is first dipped into a mixture of fine clay, rice bran and cow dung. Then the piece is dried in some airy space where there is no direct sunlight. The same process is repeated again. Then a paste of another type of fine clay, rice bran and cow dung is pasted onto the mold. Depending upon the size of the image, this process is repeated (after dried) two to three times.THE LOST WAX PROCESSThe mold, covered with layers of mud, is heated under weak heat so that the wax inside melts. The melted wax is extracted through a hole. Thus a hollow space is formed inside.POURING OF MELTED COPPERMelted copper metal is poured into the cavity created by the lost wax process and when it is cooled off, a metal of Compassion Buddha image is created.ENGRAVINGThe metal image of Compassion Buddha created out of the casting is very rough. The surface has to be made smooth; chiseling is to be done to bring precision. This complicated job requires an artistic conception, proper technology, an engineer's perfection and the skillful hands of a craftsman. The art and skills is transferred hereditary and artisans follow the age-old designs and production technology.GILDINGWhen the image is ready, gold or silver is gilded onto it. Mercury and pieces of gold/silver are mixed in such a proportion that the gold or silver is ready for gilding.The contribution of the Newar metal sculptors of the Kathmandu valley to the Himalayan art traditions has been long-lasting and profound. For centuries these artists have been the acknowledged masters of their trade, and even today they create many of the images used in worship by Buddhist communities throughout the world.&nbsp;&nbsp;A statue of a Buddha is called in Sanskrit a "Buddharupa," meaning 'the form of an Enlightened One'. Buddhists have used such images for thousands of years to show how the Truth can be found within oneself through the practice of meditation and spiritual training. Thus, a statue of Shakyamuni does more than commemorate an historical figure, it is a reminder of the spiritual potential inherent within all of us to awaken to the Truth as He, a fellow human being, did. Buddhists usually place figures of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas on their altars. Bowing and offering incense at these altars expresses both the recognition of the sublime spiritual qualities shown by these statues and the aspiration to manifest these same qualities within ourselves. The ones Nadine&nbsp;purchased&nbsp;were&nbsp;a Shakyamuni conveying the warmth and character of Siddhartha Gautama and a Medicine Buddha. The Medicine Buddha or healing Buddha statue is said to dipense spiritual medicine when properly worshipped. It is even believed that a cure for an illness may be accomplished by merely touching the image. He wears a monastic robe, is seated with the legs crossed. His left hand lying in his lap in meditation mudra,&nbsp;is holding the medicine bowl, while the right hand in charity mudra bolds a branch with fruit of the myrobalan, a medicinal plant found in India.We nursed the precious statues all the way back to Kathmandu on the bus. &nbsp;
]]>