From Hell to Heaven with a Stolen Umbrella

Well well here we are again. Back with some juicy stories. Sorry I didn't post last time but I simply had nothing to say. Unless you want me to go on about the details of the movie "Bowfinger" or "Beverly Hills Cop 2", I really wasn't doin much. That fever and scratchy thing finally went away and I still wasn't feeling 100 percent, so I just took it easy in Pushkar, checking out some of the city's beauty during the day, eating, and then enjoying the sunrise with HBO. Can't say it was that bad. I love HBO, it was nice to just "lay" as Beau would say. When I did finally get out, I grabbed some amazing food at this place called "3rd Eye". Since Pushkar is 200km from Pakistan, Pushkar had a Middle Eastern feel to it. This cafe was Israeli run and they dished out some amazing falafels, hummus, cold lemonade with mint puree mixed in, and some pretty damn good chocolate cake. We havn't eaten anything that resembled chocolate since New York. It either tastes like brown bread(whatever that means) or it literally tastes like soil. Im not joking here, and that may just be me but I swear some of it tastes like a handful of brown rocky dirt. So this place was heaven. I basically ate here every day because I knew I had a good thing, and why take any chances when you got a weird rash right?

The rash and the fever subsided but it seemed to be replaced with a new disease I like to call "hating everyone in sight". I don't know what it was, the long time spent away from the culture or just time catching up, but I began seeing things in a really angry way. Looking back on that time (now over), I still don't know what it was-maybe a combination of these things. When I would take these short walks to the cafe, people were acting the way they always did: they would honk their horns blowing out your eardrums until someone moved, they would ask us if we wanted to see their shop-"cheap cheap prices, come come", 'fake' priests would try to scam some money out of you and get you to put flowers in the holy lake, women would ask me to come and see pictures of them dancing(never found out what this scam was), shop owners would charge us double because we were foreigners, people would try to sell us drugs, people would walk with us for a while telling us how great their restaurant was and why we should go, people would try to get us to exchange money (for bad rates so they would make out), and kids women and men would beg for money. Since we touched down in Mumbai, we have met less than 5 Indian people that we had a conversation with that did not want something in return. We are hesitate to talk to starngers because they always want money, want you to stay at their hotel, want to scam you, want to take you somewhere down a dark alley to someplace that "you need to see", or want a connection in the U.S. to get a job. The list goes on and on and on and on and on and I started to lose my cool a bit.

Instead of seeing India as a country that was colonized by England and a country that has gotten the short end of the stick due to political racism (the poorest countries in the world are occupied by people with the darkest skin. In fact the rich to poor list seems to go in shades from white to black: Western countries-US, Europe, Australia----East Asian countries- South Korea, Japan(exception), China, Singapore-----South and Central America and the Middle East----India----and finally the poorest and blackest--Africa.) I now started to ask the question a different way (maybe due to a book T-Lo gave me called Freakonomics where this economist tackles the same issues we always have, but just tries to ask the questions differently). I started asking-- how did these people LET this happen? Why did they allow the British to take control and put this country into poverty? If they were simply out-militarized by them, why didn't they have a military? Why haven't they spent every last dollar they have on population control? If Hindus aren't afraid of death are they afraid of life in this pit? Shouldn't someone be held accountable when the train is 8 hrs late-so the train is not 8 hrs late? Maybe a culture that focuses so much on the next life is just not the way to go, don't they suffer more than we do seeing their children starving?

I also started getting sick of the temples...blah blah blah another temple that was beautiful at one time but now is crumbling and no one seems to be trying to stop it. Plus maybe this religion thing is the PROBLEM not the answer.

All this was going on inside me simultaneously with another discovery I have been making about religion. I have been studying the different religions and trying to understand them a little bit better, because I have always had a difficult time taking organized religion seriously at all. I always saw them as made up stories a long time ago to help people cope with their difficult lives and maybe allowing some people to get worshipped who had weak self- esteem. Plus I had a hard time picking one. There are 19 major religions in the world with over 10,000 sects that each have their own interpretation and most telling you that theirs is the "right" one. Well they are all here and some of them are even combined. Like many hindus just added jesus to one of the many gods that they worship. I thought that was pretty cool, they seemed open to changes. And there are many people who search for a higher consciousness as a way to understanding this world--not a higher god. These people I found I could relate to, they (Buddhists/ some gurus) try to find peace inside themselves through meditation and treating other people with respect. They meditate for hours, days, months in complete silence in a room. They attempt to force all thoughts out of their brain--as soon as that realization that the car payment is due next friday comes to thought they try to get it out of there. So eventually your mind is clean and clear and supposedly that is when you can see clearly and maybe see a light. This all may be a little off (Im still learning-not sure about Buddhists belief entirely) but the jist is you find out the meaning of "god" or whatever that is within yourself. I kinda liked that, and i've been experimenting with it.

To top it all off, I have been reading the book "breif history of time" by stephen hawkins where he explains the big bang, the vastness of the universe, and the potential that we have not even come close to understanding about our universe. Scientists like Hawkins cannot discuss the time before the big bang, they just say there is no point. Because there isn't anything to study its just 'your guess is as good as mine". They just say, yeah there was a big bang where there was this collection of pressure, stars, and gases that blew up and is still going, but what was outside that ball of gas and stuff before it blew? Don't know. Black? Someone's crystal ball and a big joke? dont know. So I started coming around on this whole religion thing---maybe they're all right... funny how literally everything comes back to the big bang...

We reserved a bus from Pushkar to Agra where the Taj Mahal is. One of the seven man-made wonders of the world. The bus--another scam---guy said it was a luxury bus and boy was he a big fat liar. At this point, although I was being frustrated and negative, Eliza and I managed to keep things in perspective and light with humor. Thank god (screw that thank us) that we can do that. She stuck with me through my hatred period by cracking jokes which helped me to crack jokes also instead of spit fire at people. She had her time of frustration weeks ago and she got through it, I guess it was my turn. It felt good too. Some guy selling food on the train for 27 RS didn't want to give me my change from 30 RS because he said "he didn't have it", so I said "alright here's 25 RS thats all your gettin then". I didn't give him the extra 2 RS even when he came back with change I just said "nope too late." Ultimately it didn't make me feel any better in the long run --plus it was an up hill battle.....these people weren't going to change.

I simply can't describe the Taj Mahal in words. It doesn't look real. It looks like a big projection of something a cartoonist did- displayed on the sky as a backdrop. It was inspiring to see this thing, we stayed there for hours. Its no wonder its a world wonder.

We then took a train to Varanassi. I couldn't wait to bash this town with all my might on this blog. A living hell, the filth, the crumbling once beautiful architecture, the men following us for miles to get us to go to their hotel of choice, the real bulls not cows(with balls) that you'd encounter at night in a dark alley, the sewage in the narrow alleys that were their streets, and the ash from burning bodies that were being cremated along the Ganges river--yup no typo there....

Then something got in the way. Time. I have thought about that city more than any Indian city since I left. Hindus take their dead on the Ganges river to be cremated because the Ganges is extremely holy to them, and anyone cremated there will be released from the cycle of reincarnation and finally go to heaven(I think). Many people bathe in the river because of its holy power (I tried not to remind myself that the stretch that they bathe in is septic because of a few very large sewage pipes that empties out right there--meaning there is no oxygen in the water --zero). We stood right there while people were cremated--mothers and fathers. We watched the men that work the cremation ghat weigh the wood that the family had to negotiate over and purchase-just enough wood to completely incinerate a human being to where there was nothing left. These guys were experts, there business was burning humans and they were good at it-down to the last ounce. Death is in the air, literally with ashes landing everywhere, and you don't go an hour without thinking of your own mortality. I still haven't stopped and I am glad I went to Varnassi.

We then took a really long train ride through Calcutta, where we had to stay for a night (whoah-zaz will fill that roach-filled gap in) to Darjeeling. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. I'd like to rename this town "AAAAAAAAHHHHHH". We met a really nice guy on the train who negotiated our jeep ride from the train station to Darjeeling(only accessible by road up the foothills of the tallest mountain range in the world--the Himalayas!). The ride was straight up. And up and down for me emotionally.

It was morning and crystal clear, the driver and the passengers were really sweet, and the music he was playing was peaceful. I was thinking alot about my experiences and coming to grips with my "hating everyone in sight" disease. Maybe Indians will figure it out, they just had some bad luck these past two hundred years--it could be argued that colonialism is the single most debilitating{I know there's an "h" in there somewhere but I can't remember where} thing that can happen to a country) . If I was living in Varanassi and I could get 80 RS just by showing someone where a hotel was--shit maybe I'd do that too. Although, I'd prolly hire out ten guys to do it and make three times the money--but thats just me. These people are poor --and they know that we have more money than they'll ever have in their lifetimes, just from saving for a few months in Los Angeles.

And Darjeeling was a good example of people being financially stable and not relying on foreigners so much--and damn that was nice to experience after all we've been through. As we ascended the mountain, people got less brown and more east-asian looking. Each face and skin color telling a story of where they had originally come from.....India, Tibet, China, Nepal.....wow this ride really told a story. The houses were colorful and well kept up, each one with a view that in the U.S. would have realtors screaming "location, location, location!". On top of feeling alot better emotionally, we got really lucky. We were told by many travelers and natives that this area sometimes experiences bad weather and you may not be able to see the high peaked mountains. Because of the clear weather we saw our first glimpse of the top of a distant massive tall block of ice after coming over several foothills. We were so excited, we were going to see this range in the sunshine. Then finally we went around that last corner that we had been waiting for to get a good look. I just shouted, " BOAAAAAAAAA!" I was looking at rolling green hills that led up to shades of grey then white then ice -that seemed separate because of its distance and massive size. I was looking at Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world at 28,169 ft! Dude that is twice the size of anything I had ever seen before. This is where planes fly at 30,000 ft. The clouds only went 1/3 of the way up the mountain, the Himalayas are unreal! We tried taking pictures of it and it was no use, we laughed every time we saw the photo because it looked nothing like what we were seeing. It was completely covered in snow and ice and took up your entire sightline when you looked north.


We pulled into the cutest little town with big pine trees, wet asphalt, wool sweaters, warm boots, hot soup, and the freshest air i have smelled since Northern california. After we grabbed an amazing hotel with a view of the snow capped mountains and a wood burning stove, we explored. We found that people here don't bother you and they aren't trying to sell/ hawk/ beg/ talk/ stare/ force you at all. They are content, and we are just happy that they let us visit. We had "high tea" with some rich Brits at a really fancy hotel ($200 american a night). It started to rain when we left and I noticed a doorman handing out umbrellas to the guests that were leaving, so I just walked up and put my hand out hoping he wouldn't notice that I had longjohns on under my shorts and two different colored socks. He didn't but when he gave us the once over, I just looked him straight in the eye like "hey doorman-lets get a move on here we're gonna be late for the opera" and it worked. We ended up giving that stolen umbrella to two British friends we met that had been having a rough time without rain gear.

We are all layered up now with wool sweaters, hats, and cut-off wool gloves so we can get a good grip on the soup spoon. Next stop --Sikkim. Even farther into the Himalayas. We are keeping an eye on time though because we want to be on a beach in Thailand by Eliza's Birthday on the 26th. Its just that we love the hot Tibetan noodle soup so much that we might put off the beach paradise for Himilayan happiness.

GGGGGGG-Reg