I'll Have a Number 2 wit Basmati

Did I tell you guys that swastikas are everywhere? Well they are. Everywhere. On fabrics, hats, tattoos, painted on cars, and welded on to the sides of buildings. These swastikas were here before the Nazi's(thousands of years before), and Indians aren't too happy about Hitler using the symbol to represent hate. Here it means completely the opposite. Actually, there are many meanings--from a Chinese symbol to indicate 'vegetarian' to a Hindu symbol to indicate stability and groundedness, but all the meanings are positive. It is shocking to see a woman draped in a shawl embroidered with swastikas though....

After the awesome time with Julie Jules (who we already miss) on the houseboats, we headed to a wildlife park a few hundred kilometers north of Fort Cochin. I learned a few more things on the train ride there. One, I now know for sure why it smells like the inside of a Rotor Rooter tank almost everywhere we go. On the train ride up the mountain, I realized I had to squat in the bathroom....yup the ol' numero 2(Something you really try to avoid on a moving train--but I figured if I could do it in that environment, I could do it anywhere-so I thought it'd be good practice). After I finished, I naturally turned around to see how things had gone---and I saw an open hole with railroad tracks zipping by the same speed as the train! I couldn't help but think that there are 1 billion people in India-all who probably ride the rails and most who drink alot of chai tea as they ride. Second, I found out what Paan is. I have been smelling this stuff since the airplane ride here. It smells like a mixture between windex and tobacco. What it is (I think) is betel(spelled correctly I think) nut mostly, but they sell it with tobacco mixed into it. Its also called Paan masala. There are many different ways of eating it--you can buy a whole bunch of it wrapped in a leaf that ends up being half the size of a fist in which people shove into their mouths, or just buy packets of it that go right in that area under your lip like tobacco. Its supposed to be like a nicotine effect but a little smoother. Tons of people chew it and spit the red juice everywhere. Yes it does sound nasty, but after smelling this stuff everywhere and sometimes avoiding a red loogey coming my way I decided to join em instead of fight em. I wanted to see what this stuff was all about.....plus it came with a high to boot, why not?

On the same train on our way to the wildlife reserve, we were all seating on our backpacks in between cars because of the lack of seats--and this cop motioned me over to share a seat with him. Normally, I would offer this seat to Eliza but I wasn't sure if she would want to be seating with this guy -and I am intimidated by these cops (we saw a bunch a cops whip this guy in Goa on New Years--they all carry bamboo sticks)...so I sat down facing him. Once again-the Indian compassion....he was very very nice and interested in where I was from and where I was going. He gave me advice along the way--like where to stay and how much rickshaws would cost when we got to our destination. He then offered me some Paan. I thought that this was great- not only did I get to try Paan but this guy would be able to show me how to chew it. He even showed me how to take it out of the package and grind it with your thumb -and then for some reason when he had a mound of it ground up in his palm he smacked it three times (not sure if that is required). So I put some under my lip as told and then ran into a big problem. Our windows were open, I was facing him with the train going the direction that my back was facing. Where was I supposed to spit? For him it was easy- he just loogeyed over his left shoulder and the wind took it and hid it....you could barely notice him spit he was so good. I on the other hand now had a newby mouthful of red Paan juice with no where to spit except directly out the window that was basically a wind tunnel to his face. While I sized up his bamboo stick for occasional whip sessions, I had no choice but to goober out the window--my mouth was full there was no other option. He politely wiped his neck and arm off with his free hand and didn't say anything. I said I was really sorry and I pretended like it was a suprise to me that I spit on him. He said really genuinely, "No, no, no, do not worry, not a problem."

The wildlife park was cool. It is a totally different experience seeing animals in their natural environment---completely wild. I can't believe elephants just hang out in the forest and live. We went through a number of areas where there were tigers, but we never saw one. Just to be there was fascinating. As the jeep crawled through the bush, I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I was not on the top of the food chain anymore. There were tigers out there that ate large live animals everyday for lunch.

From Kalpetta we went to Mysore. A city that is known for its silks, a maharaja palace, and a ton of hassel. We rolled in on the bus the day that the Maharaja Palace was lit up with 97,000 light bulbs. This palace is amazing----also gigantic. We checked in to our hotel and watched the lights all get shut off at 8pm exactly. We shopped and bought beautiful silks--we even saw three women in black head to toe burkas(sp?) looking through piles of gorgeous silk dresses(would anyone ever see them wear these fabrics if they bought them?). We were hasseled by shop owners, rickshaw drivers/ sweet shop owners/ t-shirt venders/ and everyone else trying to get some duckies off the rich westerners....Oh what a pain in my f-ing ass--were our thoughts by the time of our departure.

Maybe thats what fed the fire under the idea of going to Banglore. It was suppose to be everything it was-- Western/modern/ have malls/ have Mickey D's and Pizza Hut/ good coffee(yes!)/ more pollution etc....and we loved it and hated it for what it was.....got damn those were the best fries I ever had. I must admit, I love Indian food - but there isn't much variety....and I'm the last person you'll see at the golden arches but those fries rocked my world in Banglore. I thought it was funny that I was one of those Americans in a Mickey D's in a foreign land. But hey give us a break--its not like we went to one in Belgium, France or Italy ok? And when we went to Pizza Hut, the host tried to tell me what was on the menu...my first thought as I was looking at this 18 year old Indian girl was----Sweety, I know whats on the menu, not only did I have my fifth birthday party here 8 years before you were born--I am American and I own this place. We all died laughing at the many things we could say to the staff (if you know teddy and I you know how long this went on for) ........

Ted and I went out one night to a Banglore club and i have to say that it was truly dope. The club's ambience was straight out of the meat packing district in NYC (think CIELO) and the mnusic was good. T-lo and I danced all night (although he was dancing in sandales with white socks--cuz they allow sneakers but NOT sockless sandales!)

Like Zazzer said we are now in a beautiful french town on the ocean called Pondicherry. We took a bus here after our rickshaw driver crashed into a motorcycle. Was anyone surprised? No. Even the guy who got hit only argued for like a minute and then just passed it off as collateral damage. I just had half a dinner and a few beers with a Bollywood producer because I couldn't wait to eat. He joined my table cuz he was alone. He was refreshing. He moved to LA in 1968 to go to UCLA film school--I guess his dad was big time here before he was. He had a really interesting perspective on everything. He loved India, knew the U.S. and Americans, was wealthy, and was a wise ass. I liked him alot, we made fun of American cheesy comedies and Bollywood cheesy dramas. He also told me that it snowed in LA the other day...what the hell are you guys doin over there?We might go to a Truffaut (sp?) film tomorrow he invited us to if we have time before we catch a plane to Delhi.

North India... I can't wait. The temperature is supposed to be cold, and the villages we want to end up in have mountains that top 20,000 feet and are neighbors to Mt. Everest. We have two friends that we met in Goa that we are staying with in Delhi--Kursten and Ben.

Well, sorry if this was too long, I just want to tell you guys everything even though I didn't include anything. And by the way, i do not spell check these or even look them once over so bare with the bad. I miss everyone......



gg

Pondi with a cherry on top

well here we are in a tiny piece of France. An Indian flavored French crepe. We arrived on a bus via Chennai (Madras) which we saw only from the rickshaw window. I think we were a bit big-city-pollution-drained. At least I was, having developed a cough that I'm sure is dirty air related. Bangalore was a wonderful place to catch up on western culture, remember your love/hate relationship with malls and eat Pizza Hut. But the air is thick with exhaust and burning trash and the smell of different types of excrement and at times I tried not to breath at all. So in contrast, the ocean air of Pondicherry is heaven. We've found an ashram on the beach that is only $1 a night. The view from the front is jutting rocks and endless ocean. Unfortunately we were placed in a room named "politeness" which has a balcony over a gas station. I think its moniker is meant to prevent you from complaining.. since when I asked the man at the front desk if we could switch rooms he looked at me sternly and said they were all full far in advance. I think this meant I haven't gotten to the right level of purity- since the picture of "the mother" and the other guy that stare at me in bed make me feel slightly guilty for some reason...

Pondicherry is known for its delicious French food and leftover culture that has remained since its colonial days. The children all call to you "Bonjour!" and the gentlemen pass a polite "Bonsoir.." on the tiny streets of the French section which is along the ocean. The colors are french blue and yellow everywhere- including some of the rickshaws and the school uniforms of the children. We are off to Auroville today, a holdover from the 60s ashrams- a giant community of people who believe in world unity founded by an Indian man and a French woman called The Mother. They are both dead, but the community still goes on.. We are going to indulge our hippy-ness today and see what it's all about. There are floaty looking white people swathed in Indian prints all over Pondicherry who seem to have found some sort of inner helium, maybe we will too...

Since we last posted so much has happened- somehow we haven't had the time to be juicy and detailed about it so we wanted to wait.

I guess one of the most monumental moments of the last week or so was our trip through Waynard Sanctuary in Kerala. We arrived in Kalpetta by bus from Calicut- a kind of yucky city that was a necessary stop to get to Kalpetta. We skipped the mountain town of Ooty because of the descriptions of the bus ride up there as 36 hairpin turns in what the book calls "rolling wrecks." Every bus ride is a wild rollercoaster ride- actually, any ride is a crazy one. The system of driving here is all about the horn. The driver goes all over the road to avoid the large holes and lazy cows and if anything is in its way it honks loudly. The pecking order is by size- the larger the vehicle, the larger the horn and the more people who have to get out of the way. The worst trip is with a rickshaw driver who has an inflated sense of self and a loud horn. The pedestrians get the least respect. I would love to through a few Santa Monica cops and their jay-walking tickets on one of these streets...

So we chose Kalpetta instead and I sat in the Lady's' section on the bus with every one's chubby babies on my lap sucking on my various limbs. It was sort of lovely, sort of horrifyingly sticky.

We stayed at a veritable compound in Kalpetta- it had three restaurants, a few loud special events and an ayurvedic massage center. In fact, I had my first ayurvedic massage. Whew. I remember Fawni saying she felt molested and so I went in with an idea of what may happen.. But nothing quite prepared me.. If Indian culture frowns on public affection it's because they get enough titillation in the back rooms at the ayurvedic center.. It was the most sensation I've ever felt from a complete stranger- no part of my body was forbidden to her.. I left feeling dizzy and tingling all over. I started to wonder why western massage leaves out all the parts of the body that actually have feeling.. but I also kind of understand why- maybe there is actually some puritan in me.. and it took India to find it!

tea fields

So the elephants. We got in an open back jeep in the early morning for our day long adventure through ancient caves, waterfalls and the sanctuary. Within a few hours I was alone in the back and my carsick brother and boyfriend crammed in the front seat with the driver, the three of them swaying in unison. So I think I have a unique perspective on the dust and dirt and backside of the Indian countryside. Absolutely stunning. We were up in the mountains rounded by tea farms- small round bushes that climb up and down with the peaks, a pattern that is really quite beautiful against the sky and slopes. We entered the park after a day of different explorations- probably the most moving were cave carvings and drawings that were 4000 years old. In the still coolness of the dark cave I felt as though they were trying to convey some complex explanation of their lives.. I tried to read the drawings and in a way I think I understood something deeper about humans need to tell their story..

Ok the elephants! They were a family of about 8. The tiny baby was in front almost comically mimicking their enormous form in such a tiny space. I experienced such a rush seeing them in their forest! I realized they were where they were supposed to be and yet it seemed so strange to me after years of zoos. I was so absolutely euphoric watching them live their lives so giantly gently. I wanted to go join them.

(the elephants weren't the only ones being watched)

But I didn't. Instead we headed to Mysore, on the tail of the Nandi festival. Celebration of bovines everywhere.. The streets were full of garishly painted cows, strolling nonchalantly through the streets, seeking the next delicious banana leaf... One sniffed and almost ate my straw hat. And faced with the bright red horns and fluorescent yellow face, I would have had to let her.

south india and us

out into the world from our little goa haven...

Back into the traffic, the trash and the poverty- but still within the incredible beauty of the south.. we left goa and our friend Fawni after a last candlelit dinner overlooking the entire beach. The cashewnut curry was an incredible experience and we toasted to our time there. I think Teddy and Gregg were itching to move on, as was I- Although I did feel a small ache for the sound of the waves, the soft brush of the mosquito net in the wind blowing through the cracks in our beach mat shack, our breakfast spot on the beach with juice that was safe to drink (the cafe- High Fidelity- was owned by a lovely Austrian woman who promised that everything, including the ice cubes, was made with mineral water), and the simplicity of life. Also the infrequent stares. A blond woman hardly matters when there were hardcore Eurogirls going topless on the beach.

We were off to Kerala to meet Jules and have an adventure with her.. This has been so great to have people we love show up in different spots on our journey- I hope more of you get over here..

We arrived in Ernaculum so early in the morning that the sun hadn't risen- sort of strange time to arrive in any train station. It seems that in India the train stations are used as homes so that if you arrive in the early morning it is as if you are visiting a family a little too early. People are still sleeping in curled bundles of cloth and while others are brushing their teeth, washing their bodies or simply looking dazed. There is an uncomfortable feeling that you are intruding as you try to step over their bodies. We were able to get a rickshaw to the hotel for a good price and the driver turned out to be very helpful since the first place we went was boarded and silent, so he took us to Homestay Geo Maria- a little pricey but super clean, nice after a night train. Fort Cochin was where we landed- a pretty little island connected by bridge and ferry to the more standard & busy Ernaculum. Fort Cochin is slightly European, small winding streets and lots of churches & temples and even a Synagogue in "Jew Town." In fact, as we rode in on the rickshaw in the dark through the twisting streets, we would suddenly come upon a glowing temple blaring music and packed with people already. A surreal vision in a strange city.

We found a small cafe with an East Village vibe- packed with tourists but serving the first cafe au lait that I've found and a breakfast that wasn't gooey and spicy. Not that I don't love gooey and spicy, but I've been craving some of the simpler foods like omlettes and toast. Sometimes I look at a menu of complete mystery foods and wish I knew what I was ordering, and after I've ordered, what I was eating. Everything is such a rich delicious novelty, but I find myself excited over the simple naan that goes with the meal. Just bread. This must sound strange- but after a month of 3 mystery meals a day, one craves the familiar.

We met Jules before a Kathakali show to which Bala, Bina's sweet father, treated us. I was very excited about seeing this since I studied the dancing, gesturing form theatre in Paris for a while. Bala said it was a simpler, less spectacular show than the ones he was used to- but I was entranced by the complexity of the eye movements and gestures that are put together to tell the story. Also the makeup is an intricate performance-like preshow. The performers are covered with bright symbolic colors and I felt badly about complaining about my constant silver paint in my last show.. Imagine a lifetime of being green, red and black!

That night we dined at a fancy restaurant with Bina, Jules, Bala and Doug. Gregg and I both agreed that we felt dizzy and strange- we think it was because we were unused to being normal. Or having to use a fork. Or making conversation. Whatever it was I think we tasted a little bit of what a shock it might be to go back into the real world, even after only 3 weeks.

Having Jules with us was such a treat. We kidnapped her from the high life and showed her our gritty ways.. not sure if she preferred them, but we had a wonderful time together. We continued south into Kerala and rented a boat for the night- if we could get it together and post some pictures you could see what they look like.. but they are these really cool looking creations out of bamboo that have an open end with a table and a lying area at the bow and then 2 or 3 bedrooms. We stayed the night before in the hotel of a burgeoning rock star who forced our exhausted bodies to dance to several of his songs repeatedly- in fact we still have them in our head. He was charming though- sunglasses on at night, explaining all of the lyrics and the instruments in detail. It was a wild night at the Wild Orchid.

The boat was a lazy day and night on a stunning backwater maze. We passed people washing and doing laundry, fishing and just going about their lives. The boat guide took us on a tour of his village and we met his entire extended family. They all live on one little island among many little islands of families. It seems a sort of idyllic life. They were very happy to chat and gesture with us for a while before we returned to the boat to eat little piles of food off banana leaves. Delicious but slightly worrisome since we couldn't really tell what was cooked- we are still being super careful to avoid Delhi belly... We did all feel a little ill the next day, but nothing substantial- maybe just all that roughage.. The only terrifying part of the night was the very large sounding creature that seemed to be trying to get in through our ceiling.. Gregg went back to snoring, but I kept my headlamp pointed at the potential point of arrival for whatever it could be... It never arrived, but I was very tired the next day.. We sadly saw Jules off and headed back north toward the mountains..

We are very behind, but I'll post this now (and get to the elephants from today later)- I can't seem to get on my email at the moment, so sorry to anyone I am leaving unanswered..

Back in The Sludge.....but it smells better this time

We left paradise--reluctantly- it was time to get gritty again. We had to meet the famed Jules (our friend from New York) in a little fishing village 12 hours south of Goa. She was visiting another friend of ours from New York(Beena) who has family in India. We said our good-bye's to Fawni who was heading back to Bombay to fly home. Teddy, Zaz and I hopped in a van cab to get to the train station. What a wild ride that was....in fact every ride we have been in besides the train has been absolutely insane. You really have to see it to believe it. Whether its because only %10 of police out there actually have the authority to write a ticket, or because Hindus are not afraid of death like we are. I was talking to this Indian in Goa and he was telling me that life and death are much different in India compared to the West. He said for one, they aren't afraid of death--they embrace it. Also, he said, Americans are never happy and Indians are always happy. I asked what he meant and he said that Americans are always trying to have more than what they have, be more succussful than they are, have more money than they currently have, and just generally wishing that they were better off than they are. He said Indians, on the other hand, are happy to be better of than the guy below them. They think that they're lives are pretty good as long as they can find someone else who has it worse. Its funny cause I just read a similiar explanation in a book I'm reading--so maybe its true. I couldn't help thinking about how I always think that exact same way. Then I was wondering if it was bad to always want something better--maybe that's why our country is so much better off in so many ways. Who's happier? good question...

Anyway the ride to the train station was a series of windy hills where the driver was going way too fast and frequently passing buses/ cars / 18 wheelers in the oncoming lane with inches left to screech into our lane before hitting another bus head on coming the opposite direction. I can't say that I've gotten comfortable with this, but during that ride (a little over an hour of this the entire way) I noticed that it does have a rythym and people do follow a set of rules--even though they are death defying at moments. The people in the cars that you pass slow down, motorcycles move into the shoulder so two cars can fit on the two lane road, and everyone keeps everyone in check with horns. Horns are used here as blinkers, break lights, and caution.

The train was awesome. We found out that there are many different classes and we could afford a little bit of a nicer class--so we booked one. This ride had real AC (not just fans--its screaming hot here right now), blankets, sheets, no crowds, and even a guy to freshen up the sheets and make sure we had everything we needed. Score. We got a room in Fort Cochin for 11 dollars to split between three. Sweet. This little town was packed with little cute shops and great seafood restaurants. We met Jules the next day at a traditional Kerala dance performance that Beena's dad treated us to. We showed up early to watch them apply the make-up...the costumes and make-up were over the top....

We had dinner with the whole crowd that night and Beena's dad was a trip. He was hilarious. He was ordering for everyone, making sure we had our money and passports tucked in the proper safe locations on the body, telling us what not to eat, and showing teddy how to wear this fancy sarong type thing that he just bought. They were all staying at the fanciest hotel in Kerala--"The Taj"($250 a night american $), so Jules had an entirely different experience with her old friends from New York that now knew how to shit in a hole and wipe with a handful of water.

We took another bouncy ride to a town where these house boats left from. I'll let zaz talk about the house boats....and where we are now.

Tonight we catch a train to a wild life preserve....on our way to Banglore--supposed to be a really modern city. Hope everyone is rockin out!

gg

2007 on a beach at the end of the world

I was going to start by saying wow, but gregg took it..

Goa is like paradise, but without the boredom. I guess whenever people described paradise to me it sounded a little bit boring. Beaches, warm weather, people sitting around doing nothing.. Yawn. But here it is a paradise with spice. Indian spice. There is an edge to everything. You are not sure that your hut on stilts made out of beach mats and rope will really withstand the 3 snoring occupants through the night, there is that slight misgiving when you wrap your mouth around the fork holding something you've never heard of before, people want to take your picture because they are your sweetest new friends or because they want to get a squeeze of your ass... an interesting paradise is how Teddy and I decided to describe it..

After the bus ride I was ready for a few days of calm. I know Gregg mentioned bugs, but to really understand my sudden panicked leap from the top bunk, you would have to be on an airless swerving bus with your face about four inches from the ceiling and have roaches start crawling at you from all directions in unison, as if a battle cry had been shouted. The ride from that point on was a tickly affair- i sweated and froze and felt bugs all over me.. ugh. when we finally stepped onto the tiny road that is Palolem's main street, I felt an enormous relief. I have been ok with the strangely discolored sheets, the orange spit stains on the walls and sidewalk, the toilets that are holes and mud(maybeihope) with hoses, and the smell of death and betel nuts- but the roaches sort of did me in...

But Goa with my two favorite boys and our new friend Fawni has let me feel more peaceful than I ever have in years.. The waves are our night music and morning alarm and I swim to wake and sleep. We've met such great fellow travelers and locals, danced wildly with a family of 6 surrounded by thousands to bring in the New Year. And last night we dined sitting on cushions beneath a banyan tree under tiny lamps and a roof of leaves. It feels like a paradise for the poor since we can afford everything.. we even took our own wooden boat with guides to watch the dolphins yesterday. They wouldn't let me pet them, but they were amazing nonetheless.

We brought 2007 in first for everyone and toasted to our friends everywhere. We do wish that you were all here with us- that would be a dream, but instead we have you here in our sandy footsteps and our afternoon naps, on the disappearing horizon you are all present.

happy new year dear friends and family..

PS just want to tell you of one of the funniest images.. the men here all hold hands and put their arms around each other like couples- the real couples show no affection- but when we made a new Indian friend he tried several times to hold Gregg's hand. I was walking behind them (affectionless) and almost dying laughing. Everytime he got a good grasp Gregg would gently unwind his fingers again and our friend would look confused and hurt. For the goodbye, he clasped Gregg's hand passionately and Gregg sweetly relented, it was such a lovely picture- but when I went in for a hug he leapt back and the group gasped in horror... Lessons on love & affection in foreign lands

(not him-->)

Somethin' Else

Wow. We are in Palolem in South Goa. Zaz and I met Teddy in Bombay, took a roach-infested coffin bus for 12 hrs(or more--lost track) to Goa where we met up with our friend Fawni.....the state that many people have told us to visit because of its beauty. Once again the chaos with the trains/ bus/ traveling situation--including almost buying fake tickets, bribing a station manager, trying to bribe everyone at the train station, failing at bribing, unexpected bus transfers, not knowing who worked for the bus company and who was just bullshitting, the bus being 6 hours late, the local bus to the town packed with enough people to fill three buses without AC, and a walk down the beach with our backpacks into a hut right on the ocean for 3 bucks each/ per night.

Well, its all been worth it and we have gotten quite comfortable here. The three of us are having an amazing time. Who wouldn't? We have a thatch hut with a porch where we watch the sun set over the ocean every night. Then we walk around and choose from one-of many- amazing restaurants right on the beach. I haven't worn shoes or sandales in 2 days--there's no need. Last night as we were having dinner by candlelight, the ocean tide gently rushed over our feet before returning back into the blackness. The water is clean (its not textbook paradise turqoise--more like a green), so I get up every morning- walk out our door the short trip to the water with bed eye gook in my eyes and go for a swim. It's been nice -not only to have a ton of westerners around- but to have a new crew of four(Fawni, Teddy, Zaz, and I). Although we are making friends, we don't really need anyone else.

Every other place is a restaurant with candles and bean bag seating or lawn chairs stretched out in front with a few huddled candle-lit tables. The place we are at is owned by a bunch of mid- 30 Brits. It's a bar/ restaurant with bent funky worn slanted wood everywhere. It also has a pool table right in the sand. On New Years, we popped some bubbly with 3-4 british friends we made on the bus ride down. We walked barefoot from club to bar dancing to some pretty dope electronic euro funk the whole night. Zaz and Fawni unfortunately had some really horrible experiences with indian men grabbing them. Once you make a scene though, these men are embarrassed--and its not the majority. Zaz turned around and punched one right in the neck--he was stunned and other men shoed him away.

I don't know when we'll leave here--the topic hasn't been brought up once. It's just such a nice change from what we've been going through. Although this morning at breakfast I was thinking about what would be next. I'm not ready to strap the backpack on yet, but I felt the urge under there somewhere. Maybe a few more swims in the ocean will bring it to the surface.

gg